The Outlaw Takes a Bride (33 page)

She came out of the bedroom, and the black dress was gone. She was dressed in her new calico.

“You changed.” Immediately, he felt stupid for saying it.

“That was for Mark,” she said. “But it’s our wedding day. Our true wedding day. I’ll mourn Mark, but I don’t think I’ll wear that dress for him.” She went to the stove. “It’ll be a minute before this is hot. Could you get the leftover corn bread?”

He got it and set the table while Sally puttered around the stove.

“I want to have a headstone made for Mark,” he said.

She nodded soberly. “That would be nice.”

He filled their cups with fresh water and sat down. Sally brought over the stew kettle.

“I’ll fry up some chicken tonight, if you want to bring me one.”

“Sure.” Sort of a celebration dinner, he guessed, but neither of them said that. As they ate, they talked of unimportant things. The livestock, the garden. “Remember I said I ought to have a will?” Johnny said.

“Yes.”

“Now that I’m sure we’re legal, I think I’ll do it. Just in case.”

“Don’t talk about that.”

He took a few more bites and then laid down his spoon. “I think we should. They could hang me, Sally.”

Her lower lip began to tremble, and she put her hand to her mouth. “Do you have to bring it up now? I was doing pretty well.”

He let out a big sigh. “I need to think about taking care of you. What’ll you do if Sheriff Jackson locks me up?”

“I guess I’ll stay here and run this ranch.”

“I don’t know as you could do it by yourself.”

“Don’t start, John Paynter.”

She sounded angry, and he wasn’t sure he ought to pursue the topic. He only wanted what was best for her if the worst happened.

“I want you to be safe,” he said.

“If you’re going to be…gone…for a while…” She glared at him fiercely, and he kept his mouth shut. “Then I guess I’ll go and stay with my folks.”

“In Abilene,” he said.

“That’s right. Near there. If they lock you up, you go there when you get out and ask for Jeremiah Vane. Everyone knows my father there. Or you could send him a telegram. I’d come back.”

Johnny nodded, easier in his heart. “That sounds like a good plan. Because if I was gone long, you’d need to hire a couple of hands. It would probably be better if you sold off the stock.”

“All right, but that won’t happen.”

“Talk to Eph Caxton if it does, and tell him you need to sell the cattle. Him or Hector Gluck.”

“I will, but can we please stop talking about it?”

“Sure.”

She reached across the table and took his hand. “I love you, Johnny. No matter what, I’m going to stick with you, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure they treat you fair.”

“Thanks.” He understood why she hated talking about these things. Even thinking about it took away his appetite.

“I have an uncle,” Sally said more urgently, and he focused on her face. “He used to be a Texas Ranger.”

“So?”

“I wondered if it would do any good to contact him.”

“What could he do?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Probably nothing. It was just a thought. If there’s anything I can do to help, I want to do it. But…” She looked into his eyes intently. “Mostly I just want to be Mrs. John Paynter while I have the chance. Johnny, I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

He stared at her, mildly shocked that she would say it, but glad. He squeezed her hand. “I reckon you won’t, unless maybe the sheriff comes out here before sundown.”

Sally awoke before dawn, at the rooster’s first crow. She was glad Fred Jackson hadn’t shown his face but felt slightly wicked for thinking that way. If the truth were told, she would be relieved when everything was settled, one way or another.

She sat up and looked at her husband. Johnny still slept, with that tousled little-boy look, and she smiled. She reached toward him, but before she could brush his hair back off his forehead, the rooster crowed again, and Johnny stirred. He opened one eye and looked at her. Slowly, he smiled and rolled onto his back.

“Good morning,” Sally said.

“I hope the sheriff stays away a long time.”

“I kind of hope that, too, but it’s too stressful. We need to know.”

“I guess you’re right.” He sighed and shoved the quilt back. “Thad Bollinger will tell Jackson I want to see him as soon as he gets back.”

Johnny went out to milk the cow while Sally fixed breakfast. Afterward, he shaved off his beard. She went about her housework, trying not to make a fuss about it, but she kept stealing glances while he worked in front of her small mirror.

At last he turned to face her, his face bare. “Well, Mrs. Paynter?”

She couldn’t help grinning as she walked toward him. “I married a very handsome man, sir. And you managed not to cut yourself.”

He wiped the last of the soap off and kissed her, and she ran her fingers through his hair. He squeezed her so hard she could barely breathe.

“Maybe you’ll let me trim your hair later,” Sally said.

“I might confuse the sheriff if I look too respectable.”

She tried not to think about the future too closely as she sewed and cooked that afternoon, alternately fretting and wanting to sing. Johnny stayed close to the home place, going from one small chore to another all day. At suppertime, they had heard nothing.

“I’d best ride into town tomorrow and see if the sheriff’s come back,” Johnny said that evening.

“Take me with you. Otherwise if he arrests you, I’ll be stuck here with no horse.”

“Guess it’s time to buy another. I wouldn’t want you stranded six miles from town.”

“What if the sheriff’s still not back?” Sally asked.

“I’ll leave a note to make sure he knows first thing I want to talk to him.”

Sally sighed. She had a few more days with Johnny at best. Something would change when Fred Jackson heard his story. It was bound to, and they were fooling themselves to pretend it wouldn’t. She would do her best cooking while she had Johnny, and keep the house spotless. She had washed her hair that afternoon. If her husband went to prison, she wanted him to remember her at her best.

Their drive into town was fruitless, so far as the sheriff was concerned. He wasn’t at his office, and Thad Bollinger hadn’t heard from him.

“What if he never comes back?” Sally asked when they got back to their wagon.

“He’s got to come back,” Johnny said.

“Not if those outlaws get him.”

Johnny frowned. “Fred Jackson’s a smart man, and he took half-a-dozen men with him. We’ll hear something soon.”

“Has that man got a family?”

“I don’t know.”

Sally looked around at the busy main street. “Someone ought to be caring whether he’s all right.”

“I’m sure there’s someone. Come on.” Johnny brightened. “Let’s stop at the livery and see if Mr. Benner’s got any likely horses for you.”

Johnny took a liking to a dainty black mare that stepped high and looked like she had some hackney in her.

“She could take you around in a buggy, pretty as you please,” the liveryman said.

Sally frowned at her husband. “We don’t have a buggy, just an old farm wagon. Don’t get me a fancy horse. I may be needing a cow pony. Get me a horse that will work when I need him to.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Johnny said.

Benner led out a short-coupled, ten-year-old bay mare. “She’s a good cow horse.”

Johnny got on the mare and rode her out to the street and back.

“You want to try her, Sal?”

“I’ve got a sidesaddle you can use,” Benner said.

“Yes, please.” Sally stroked the mare’s nose and waited while Benner switched the saddles.

The mare had a smooth trot, and she seemed energetic and willing. When they got back to where Johnny stood, Sally slid to the ground.

“I like her.”

“Does she drive?” Johnny asked Benner.

“She does. In fact, I rented her out to a gentleman Saturday with a buggy. Got no complaints.”

“How much?” Johnny asked.

“Sixty dollars.”

Johnny scratched his head. He surely did look handsome with his new haircut and shave. “You know, we might get a better deal from one of the ranchers. I think Bill Hood might have a mare he’d sell.”

“Fifty,” Benner said.

Sally stayed out of it and watched. She had to admit her husband was a good bargainer, at least when it came to horses. When Benner got down to forty-two dollars, Johnny led the mare to their wagon and tied her to the back.

Then came the bargaining for the sidesaddle, and Sally started to feel a bit uneasy. She pulled Johnny aside while the liveryman was dusting off the second one of two he had available.

“Why don’t you just get me a stock saddle? He wants too much for those.”

“No, I can’t have you riding astride. Folks would be scandalized.”

Sally laughed mirthlessly. “As if we won’t give them any scandal as it is.”

Johnny winced. “Let me do this. Please? For my bride.”

“All right, but is this the best place to get a saddle?”

“It would be more at a saddle maker’s,” Johnny said.

“What about a catalog? Or my pa might be able to send me one. My old one’s probably still hanging in his barn.”

“All right, we’ll hold off on the saddle.”

And so they went home without one. Sally had ridden bareback half the time anyway as a child. No reason she couldn’t do it around the ranch until she was properly outfitted.

Johnny held Sally’s hand all the way home. Every little while, she looked over her shoulder at the new horse.

“I’m going to name her Lady.”

“Suits her,” Johnny said. He bent to kiss her, for about the tenth time since they’d left town.

Sally smiled up at him afterward. “What if those outlaws came along now, and you weren’t paying any attention?”

“Guess we’d die happy.” But he straightened after that and paid more mind to the road ahead.

Sally cuddled against his side and squeezed his hand. She would make sure he got plenty of kisses after they got home.

N
early a week had passed since their visit to the minister when Sheriff Jackson finally rode out to the Paynter ranch. Johnny was outside working on the brick oven he was building for Sally as the sheriff’s red roan jogged into the barnyard.

“Howdy, Mark.” Jackson dismounted and let his horse’s reins trail. “Working hard in spite of the heat, I see.”

“That’s partly why I’m doing it.” Johnny reached for the shirt he had discarded an hour earlier. “Making Sally an oven, so she can cook out here and not heat up the house.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that. I heard you wanted to see me.”

“Yeah.” Now that he was here, Johnny wasn’t sure how to start.

“Does it have something to do with that ranch hand of yours?” Jackson asked.

“You mean Cam? No.”

“Oh.” Jackson frowned. “I got some news from Denver while I was gone. Thought it might interest you.”

Johnny’s mouth went dry.

“Is Combes here?” Jackson looked around the barnyard.

“No. Come in and have some lemonade? Sally manages to keep it halfway cool.”

“Sounds good.”

They walked to the cabin. The door was wide open. Johnny yelled, “Sally! The sheriff’s here.” He mounted the steps and entered the dim main room.

“Hello, Sheriff.” Sally came from the kitchen area, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Howdy, Miz Paynter.”

“Did you catch those outlaws?” she asked.

“I’m sorry to say we didn’t. Tracked Flynn and his gang a long ways, and then we lost ’em.” He smiled apologetically. “I need to talk to your husband, though.”

Sally gazed at Jackson then back at Johnny.

“You got any lemonade left?” Johnny asked, though he knew she did. She’d kept a batch mixed up and down the well since his last trip to town.

“I’ll get it. Sit right down, Sheriff.”

When she was outside, Johnny pulled out a chair for the sheriff and plopped down across the table from him. “You said you heard from Denver?”

“That’s right.” Jackson took a folded sheet of paper from the pocket of his vest and opened it. He laid it in front of Johnny. “This telegram. I’d sent to the marshal up there, you see, just checking up on that brother of yours.”