The Outlaw Takes a Bride (26 page)

“Sorry,” Johnny said. “We’re friends. I’m not really your boss.”

“Yeah, you are. That’s the only way it can be now.”

Johnny thought about that for a moment. “Are you just saying that so that I’ll pay you?”

Cam laughed. “No. I’m saying it because it’s true. Whatever you tell Sally now is true, and you’ve told her you hired me. Therefore, I work for you, and you’re my boss.”

Johnny didn’t like it, but it made sense. If he intended to stay married to Sally, then Cam was no longer just a friend trying to help him avoid injustice. “Fine. Collect your pay on the last day of the month.”

“I’ll do that,” Cam said. “Now, take care of Reckless. We’d better go in.”

“Yeah.” Johnny squared his shoulders. Going into that cabin was getting harder every time.

T
he silence between them on the ride to church almost crackled in the hot, stagnant air. They had driven more than halfway to the little church when Sally said, “My pa says there’s an electrical storm coming when the air’s all breathless like this.”

“Some folks can feel it comin’ on,” Mark said.

He didn’t offer another word on the rest of the ride, and neither did Sally. She was too tired to turn the weather comments into a discussion, or to bring up another topic. If only she could sleep through the night, she wouldn’t feel so dull in the morning. But Mark was still bedding down on the floor, and she was still tossing and turning and crying out to God half the night.

The sermon might as well have been made of India rubber. It bounced off her and veered away. She was sure it completely missed Mark, judging by his stony expression. He barely moved a muscle during the hour Pastor Lewis spoke.

When it was over, they joined the line in the aisle to shake the minister’s hand. Liz Merton squeezed between two people to ask Sally, “Are you going to the ladies’ group Wednesday?”

Sally hesitated and glanced toward Mark, but he had stepped forward with the line, apparently unaware of Liz’s question.

“I’ll have to see if my husband can let me have the wagon that day,” Sally said.

Liz nodded and patted her arm then disappeared into the throng.

Sally caught up with Mark just before he reached the reverend on the top step. She stepped through the doorway and braced herself against the sun.

“Hello, Mrs. Paynter.” The pastor smiled and shook her hand. “Another hot one today.”

“That’s the truth,” Sally said.

Mark managed a civil reply to the pastor’s comment as they shook hands.

At the bottom of the steps, Sheriff Jackson walked over and greeted Mark. He was smiling, so Sally didn’t think he had anything to say about Mark’s brother, and she hung back a little.

The two Mary Hoods, whom Sally had learned were known as “Mary Bill” and “Mary Pete,” found her and launched into a discussion of baby names.

“Bill doesn’t want to name him William, because he’s Bill Junior already, and it’s too confusing,” Mary Bill explained, one hand protectively resting on the mound of her abdomen.

“Yes,” said Mary Pete. “My Pete says we can’t have any more Bills or Marys in this family, or we’ll all go loco. I suggested John, after General Hood, but Bill doesn’t like it.”

“Too plain, he says,” Mary Bill chimed in, “and besides, his sister’s got a John already.”

“I see,” Sally said. “But what if it’s a girl?”

Mary Bill’s face beamed. “Lucinda. We’re agreed on that, at least.”

“Yes, and I think it’s lovely,” Mary Pete said, “but as sure as you settle on a girl’s name, it will turn out to be a boy.”

Sally glanced toward Mark and found he was looking at her, too. Apparently the sheriff had moved on.

“Excuse me, ladies,” she said, smiling at the sisters-in-law. “Seems Mr. Paynter’s ready to go. I hope to see you both on Wednesday.”

Sally joined Mark, and they walked to the horse shed together. Mark harnessed Reckless to the wagon. When he’d climbed to the seat and started them rolling out the lane, he said, “What’s on Wednesday?”

Sally was so relieved that he’d spoken, she laughed aloud. “The monthly ladies’ group. We hope to finish the quilt this time. We’re meeting at Mrs. Bill Senior’s—that would be the young ladies’ mother-in-law’s house. Do you think I’ll be able to use the wagon? I know you’ve needed Reckless a lot lately.”

Mark frowned, and she feared he would say no. She didn’t mind so much missing the group, but it would mean he was still planning to be gone on these all-day odysseys he’d taken to, ever since she’d asked him about the cross. Last month, he’d driven her into town for the meeting at Liz’s, but he probably wouldn’t want to spend that much time alone with her again this week.

“We should buy a driving horse,” he said.

She stared at him. “Really? That would be wonderful, but can we afford it?”

“I think so. Maybe.”

She half expected him to say he would see what Cam thought, but he didn’t, and she was glad.

“If we do,” she ventured, “we ought to get one that rides or drives well. Then you could give Reckless some rest now and then.”

“That’s sound thinking. On most ranches, the punchers have at least three horses each. And in this heat, we’ll need them. Don’t want to overwork Reckless and Paint.”

“They’re good horses.”

He nodded and kept on driving, looking straight ahead. Sally didn’t want the conversation to end.

“What happened to that horse you had that you called Ranger?” she asked.

He flicked her a glance. “Oh, I…” He hesitated and then said, “He was stolen.”

“What? When?”

“Shortly before you came.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He winced, and Sally regretted speaking the way she had.

“Sorry. I was just surprised. You mentioned him in your letters, and…” A sudden thought occurred to her. “Was it those outlaws?”

“I’m not sure.”

She eyed him carefully. “You didn’t want to worry me, I suppose.”

“No, I didn’t. I’m sorry. I should have told you. And folks are right about being careful when you’re home alone.”

“All right.” Her troubled thoughts churned. Why had Mark not mentioned this when they had discussed the outlaw gang with the Lewises and Sheriff Jackson? Maybe he had reported the theft earlier and not seen a need to bring it up again.

He was frowning again, and she decided it was best to speak of something else.

“Do you mind if I take the day and go on Wednesday?”

“Maybe Cam could drop you off and get supplies while you’re quilting.”

“Cam?” Tears sprang into her eyes, and she blinked them back. She didn’t want Cam squiring her around the county while Mark rode herd or whatever it was he did out there. “I’d rather stay home,” she said softly.

He still didn’t move, and she wasn’t sure he’d heard. After a long moment, he pulled in a deep breath. “You got something against Cam? Tell me if you do.”

“Not really. I’d just rather drive myself—or have you beside me.”

“Well…we’ll see.”

It was something, and she seized on it. “Oh, please, Mark. I plan to do up all the laundry tomorrow, and I’ll bake on Tuesday, even if it’s sweltering. Please, can’t you go along with me? I’d like it ever so much.”

His lips twitched. “What’s so great about having me take you?”

She smiled and sneaked her hand inside his elbow. “The girls will all see you bringing me, that’s what. I’d like for them to see that, the same as I liked writing to my mother about how you fixed the new room for me, and I liked having people at the store see you buying me yard goods.”

He glanced down at her. “That meant something to you?”

“It meant a lot. It meant my husband’s taking care of me, and the handsomest man in Beaumont wants me to have nice things.”

His lips twitched. “I do, Sally. I want you to be happy. Seeing you smile is just about the prettiest sight I ever saw.”

Sally began to hope that he would drive her on Wednesday and that she might be able to make slow progress in other directions.

That afternoon Mark built a fire ring on the dry earth at the edge of the garden behind the cabin. He piled enough of their precious stock of firewood to keep a fire going all day. Next he built a frame to suspend the big wash kettle from and got out the kettle and filled it with water. He also filled the copper boiler and four extra pails of water.

Sally watched with satisfaction at first, but as the afternoon wore on, she became uneasy. By suppertime, she knew he was preparing everything she would need so that he wouldn’t have to come home all day. What drove him so? Was he really doing anything, out there in the grazing land?

She rose before dawn on Monday, before she heard him stir. By the time she had her dress on and had opened the door, he was folding up his blankets.

They gazed at each other across the room.

“I’ll fix your breakfast,” she said.

“No need.”

“I want to. Let me do this.”

He nodded and set the blanket down. When she turned around again, he was out the door.

She stirred up pancake batter and fried some eggs and sausage. If he rode out without eating, she would give up.

Mark had told her once that he didn’t like coffee, but he seemed to drink it fairly often. Cam couldn’t get enough. She filled the pot and set it on the stove. The kitchen was already uncomfortably hot. At least Mark had readied things so she could do the wash outside.

She had a platter of pancakes ready when he and Cam came in. They both sat at the table, and she took over the sausage, sorghum, eggs, coffee, butter, and a dish of applesauce.

“Fine breakfast,” Cam said.

“Thank you.” Sally sat down beside them and bowed her head.

After a moment’s silence, Mark said quietly, “Lord, we thank You for this food. Amen.”

“Amen.” Sally opened her eyes and smiled. “What are you boys up to today?”

Mark said nothing. Cam glanced at him and then said, “Well, Mark’s going to clean out the spring. We’re concerned the water’s starting to slack off. And I’ll be working around here, so if you need more water or anything like that, I’ll be handy.”

She couldn’t bring herself to say thank you.

All morning she worked at the fire, first struggling to heat the water and then washing the clothes. She had quite a pile of towels and table linens, too. By noontime, she wished she hadn’t undertaken so much. In spite of all the water Mark had drawn, her multiple rinses required more. She finally sat down for a few minutes to rest before getting dinner. She still had one load left of the men’s grimy work clothes.

The kitchen wasn’t any cooler, but at least she was out of the sun. She put her arms on the table and laid her head down. Her skin felt leathery, and her eyes ached. Maybe she’d gotten too much sun, despite her bonnet. She could hear Cam sawing in the barn and wondered what he was making. Surely she could rest a couple of minutes before she started cooking.

“You all right?”

She sat bolt upright. Cam stood beside her, by the table, his hand on her shoulder.

“I must have dozed off.” She glanced toward the window, trying to judge the position of the sun. “It is noontime?”

“Yup, but if dinner’s not ready, it’s not a problem.”

She was very aware of his hand still resting solicitously on her shoulder. “No, no, I’ll get you something.” She jumped up, shoving the chair back and a little toward him, forcing him to let go. “I’m sorry, Cam. It will just take me a minute. There’s a bit of ham left from last night, and I’ve got a little bread left. Would you like a sandwich? Or I can make gravy in about five minutes.” She shot a guilty glance toward the stove. She hadn’t replenished the fire inside. “Or ten.”

“A sandwich is fine. I can make it myself. You oughta just sit there and relax, young lady. I could see you’ve been working hard all mornin’.”

“Oh, well, that’s Monday for you. Washing always takes awhile.”

“Whyn’t you sit right down again,” Cam said, walking toward her. “Let me bring you something for a change.”

“No, that’s all right. I’ll get it.” Sally reached for the tin box on the shelf where she kept bread. The half loaf was in her hand when she felt him touch her again. This time, his fingers found her bare skin at the back of her neck.