The Outlaw's Return (13 page)

S
he needed a handkerchief, but she doubted J.T. had one. She tried to lift her head to say so, but he held her close, smoothing her hair with the touch she'd enjoyed in Abilene. How could a man capable of such violence be so tender? Through her tears, she saw Fancy Girl drop down in a beam of sunlight and stretch, a reminder that J.T. had changed from the hard man who'd left her.

As her tears dampened his shirt, she smelled bay rum and cotton made warm from his skin. When he'd held her in Abilene, she'd inhaled deeply and enjoyed the scent of him. Today it sobered her and she pulled back, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. She couldn't let him hold her like this. She trusted him with Gus, but her feelings were another matter. If she lost her heart to him, she'd have more heartache than she did right now, which was plenty in light of Gertie's letter. The two-page missive was on the table.

J.T. reached inside his vest and pulled out a bandanna. “Here you go, honey.”

She took it and dabbed at her eyes, the endearment echoing in her mind. “You shouldn't call me that.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “It just slipped out.”

She couldn't hold it against him, not when she'd enjoyed hearing it. Deep down, she wanted to hear the sweet name again. It was a foolish notion considering the past, but she couldn't deny the pleasure of being in his arms. They fit well together. They always had.

As he gauged her reaction, she felt the dampness of her tears. Gertie's letter had filled her with guilt, and every regret had come out in a flood. She wished she'd never been with J.T.… She wished she'd told Gertie everything he'd revealed about Roy. But the cost…Gertie would demand to know why Mary believed him, and she'd have to tell her sister everything. She'd have done it in an instant to protect Gertie, but the shame had silenced her. So did the fear that she'd lose Gertie's respect and what little influence she had. She also had to worry about Gus. If Mary told Gertie the truth and Gertie shared the secret with Katrina or anyone else, the gossip would burn like wildfire. Mary's good name would be ruined in Denver, and Gus would be the brother of a scarlet woman.

J.T. studied her as if she'd been injured. “You don't cry easily. What happened?”

“It's Gertie.” She handed him the letter.

He took it and shifted forward, holding the pages with both hands. As he read, she recalled walking into her apartment. She'd felt the stillness, gone to the bedroom and flung open the wardrobe. Her own dresses had been untouched, but Gertie's side had been empty. Mary had found the letter on her pillow and read it. Seated next to J.T., she skimmed it again.

Mary finished reading and looked away. J.T. set the letter on the table. “Roy's using her to get to you.”

A shiver rippled down her spine. “I can't sit here and do nothing. Maybe I should take the role.” The scandal was likely to find her, but she could keep an eye on Gertie.

“Don't do it,” J.T. said, bossing her.

She didn't like his tone. “You don't have the right to give me orders.”

“Maybe not, but I'm going to anyway.”

“That's ridiculous!”

“It's smart. If you give Roy what he wants, he'll want more. Don't think for a minute he'll leave Gertie alone. He'll use her to manipulate you. Mark my words.”

He'd spoken like the cold, calculating man who hired out his gun for money. “I don't want to be around Roy, but I have to find a way to protect Gertie.”

“I'll talk to her.”

“You can't.” Gertie would ask questions. “I don't want her to know about us. She'll tell Katrina everything.” And Katrina would tell her customers.

“That's a fact.” He looked into Mary's eyes. “I failed you in Abilene. I won't do it again. We'll deal with this together.”

She felt protected, but J.T.'s presence would throw kerosene on even a hint of the old rumors. Neither could she risk J.T. learning about the baby and the miscarriage. “I appreciate the thought, but I know Gertie better than you do.”

“And I know Roy,” he countered. “I won't leave you, Mary. Not with your sister acting crazy. Roy's going to use her as bait. I'm sorry to disappoint Gus, but we won't be going on that camping trip. I need to stay in town.”

“That's not necessary.” She hated to let her brother down, but mostly she wanted J.T. to be out of the way in case she changed her mind about confiding in Gertie. “Gus is excited.”

“He'll understand.”

“Yes, but it's not fair.” How did she balance Gus's needs with Gertie's? And what about J.T.? She suspected the camping trip meant as much to him as it did to her brother.

Mary faced him. “Do you think Gertie's in danger right now?”

“Not yet.” He sounded businesslike. “As long as she's useful, he won't harm her.”

“That's not much of a comfort, but I want you to go with Gus.”

He thought for a minute. “All right, I'll take him. I don't like Gertie being around Roy, but she might grow up a little. Maybe she'll decide going to New York is best.”

“That would be wonderful, but I don't have enough money to send her yet.”

“How much do you need?”

“Fifteen hundred dollars.” The amount would cover train fare, several months of living expenses, fashionable clothing for Gertie and something for Maude. Mary had some money saved, but it wasn't nearly enough.

J.T. lifted her hand in his and squeezed. “I've got five hundred dollars. It's not enough, but it's yours.”

The gesture touched her to the core. “I can't take your money.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wouldn't be right.”

Suddenly tense, he loosened his grip on her hand, paced to the window and stood with his back to her and his arms crossed as he looked out the glass. When he turned around, his eyes were like blue stones. “So my money's not good enough for you. It's tainted, and so am I. Is that it?”

“Tainted?”

“Yeah.” He smirked. “We both know how I earned it.”

Mary finally understood. By rejecting J.T.'s money, in his mind she was rejecting
him.
“That's not it.” She stood and went to his side. “If I worried about how my customers earned a living, I'd have to quiz each one at the door. If you feel bad about the gambling, give the money to charity.”

“I do feel bad,” he said quietly. “I want to give it to
you.
”

Her heart stretched with each beat, making room for this man who failed her but wanted to make things right. She couldn't change the past, but she could respect his effort to be a good man. “Do you mean it?”

“I do.”

“In that case,” she said. “I accept.”

He took her hand again and kissed her knuckles. “I'll find a way to get Gertie to New York before Roy does any real damage. I just need some time.”

She knew how J.T. made a living. Worry wrinkled her brow. “Time for what?”

“To earn the rest of that fifteen hundred dollars.”

She held his hand tight. “Promise me something.”

“What?”

“That you won't go gambling for any more of it. That's money I won't take.”

He squeezed her hand in reply, but he didn't make the promise. Did she trust him, or should she pressure him to give his word? She couldn't do either, and she wouldn't breathe a hint of his gift to Gertie. J.T. had made a rash promise, and she didn't want her sister to be disappointed if he failed to keep it. The possibility—even the likelihood—of J.T. going back to his old ways had to be considered. Bristling, she went to the divan and sat. Gertie's letter lay neatly on the table, a testament to her sister's naiveté and her own back in Abilene. “I wish Gertie could see what Roy's doing.”

“So do I.”

She barely heard him. “She's going to make the same mistakes I did. She'll wear costumes that reveal too much, and then she'll wear costumes that reveal more. Men will look at her, and she'll feel beautiful. She'll think she's in love, and then she'll—she'll—” She shook her head to chase away the shame.

“Mary, don't.”

Silhouetted by harsh light, he stood tall and bossy and as handsome as ever. “Don't what?” she cried. “Don't remember what
I
did?”

“Don't blame yourself for Gertie's choices.” He paused. “Or for what
I
took from you. You were innocent. I wasn't.”

She couldn't hear this, not now. “It's over, J.T.
Over.
I'm forgiven. I forgive you. That's enough.”

“Not for me.”

“It should be,” she said angrily. “We sinned. I regret it. Apparently so do you.”

“I do.” He paced across the room and stood in front of her. “I pressured you. It was gentle, but it was still wrong.”

She'd given herself to him freely, but he was right. She'd been naive. She hadn't expected to conceive, and she wondered now what he'd say if she told him about the miscarriage. She didn't know, and she was afraid to find out. Hurting for them both, she reached for his hand. “We can't change the past, but we can put it behind us.”

He looked at their fingers laced in a pledge of sorts. “Do you really believe that?”

“I do.”

He shook his head. “I wish I could.”

“You can,” she said gently. “It's a choice.”

“What is?”

“Starting over.”

“Not for me.” He looked into her eyes with a bleakness she'd hadn't seen in Abilene, then he released her hand. “Do you really think I can hang up my guns? That I can just
decide
to be someone new?”

“I did,” she said. “You're situation is more complicated, but no one knows what tomorrow holds.”

“That's a fact.” He looked around the room, taking in the trinkets of her life both past and present. His eyes lingered on a vase she'd brought from Abilene, then he studied the animals Gus had carved and an embroidered sampler of a Bible verse. It had been a gift from Josh and Adie. Without her faith, her family and her friends, her apartment would have been a very different place, and J.T. knew it.

She'd given him all she had, so she held out her hand. “Let's go to Swan's Nest.”

He hesitated, then clasped her fingers. “I was going to skip supper, but I'm feeling hungry after all.”

As he helped her off the divan, Mary noticed Fancy Girl lying on her side in the sun. Her belly was round and firm, and…moving.

J.T. looked at the dog with affection. “I've been in town too long. She's getting fat and lazy.”

Mary touched his arm. “I don't think that's it.”

He watched Fancy Girl, scowling until her tummy did a little roll. He looked closer, then his eyes widened. “Well, I'll be. She's having puppies.” He walked to the dog's side, dropped to a crouch and put his hand on her belly. Mary stood watching, feeling the warmth along with him, then the beginning of new life when a puppy moved and a smile spread across his face. She'd seen J.T. smile before, but it had been nothing like the one she saw now. It came from the inside, some place hidden but full of life.

He pushed to his feet, then looked at her with awe. “I've never felt anything like that.”

“It's amazing, isn't it.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “I wonder when it'll happen.”

“I'd guess a week or two.” She'd grown up around farm animals.

J.T. rubbed his neck. “Will she be all right with Gus and me on this trip?”

“I think so.”

He blew out a breath. “If that doesn't beat all. My dog having puppies… Can Gus keep one?”

She felt rosy inside. “We'd both like that.”

J.T. clicked his tongue to the dog. Fancy lumbered to her feet, and the three of them left the apartment. Mary saw his horse in front of the café. “I don't want Gus or Adie to worry. Why don't you ride ahead?”

He gave her a look that bordered on scathing. “There's no way I'm leaving without you. We'll both walk.”

“That's silly.”

His eyes flared with a spark she knew well. “Are you feeling a tad bit bold?”

“Why are you asking?”

“You can ride with me. We'll take a back street so no one sees your petticoats.”

She hoisted her lilac skirt above her ankles, put her foot in the stirrup and pulled herself into the saddle. “Hurry up,” she teased.

He untied the reins, climbed up behind her and reached around her waist. “How fast do you want to go?”

In Abilene she'd trusted him to lead, and they'd galloped down long and twisting trails to nowhere. Today the path would lead to Swan's Nest, but they could take the long way or a slower one. “You decide,” she said, feeling wistful.

He kept the buckskin at a walk until they turned the corner that led to the railroad tracks and a back way to the mansion. With the road empty, he eased the horse
into a lope that wouldn't strain Fancy Girl. When they arrived at Swan's Nest, he slid off the buckskin and lifted her out of the saddle. She landed facing him with her hands on his shoulders. The scent of bay rum tickled her nose, and laughter from the garden filled her ears. Rising to her toes, she kissed his cheek.