The Outlaw's Return (9 page)

J.T. had promised to mind his manners, but the sparks between them had always been obvious. If Gertie sensed more than an old friendship, Mary would have some explaining to do. She hoped J.T. would be on his best behavior. As for herself, she'd play the role of “old friend” perfectly. It would be the performance of her life, but she
had to protect her brother and sister from any threat of the old scandal, and that meant protecting her reputation.

 

Four hours later, Mary and Gus were walking down Sixteenth Street with a handcart full of sandwiches and cobbler for the workers at the church. The sun couldn't have been brighter, but she couldn't stop worrying about what she'd see on the posters. To build her confidence, she'd worn the blue suit and lace jabot she saved for special occasions. Her best hat was pinned at a fashionable angle, but she felt none of its boldness.

When she and Gus reached the front of the theater, she indicated a spot of shade. “Wait here,” she said to him. “I'll be right back.”

“S-sure.”

She walked alone to a glass case displaying the poster for the current show. Five performers were listed, and she didn't recognize a single name. Allowing Gertie to take a small part, if Roy agreed and she used a stage name, seemed like a reasonable compromise. Turning, she spotted the poster for
The Bohemian Girl.
The drawing of Arline shot her back to the day she'd left Frog's Landing with a satchel full of dreams.

In St. Louis she'd met Maude and joined a traveling theater troupe. While touring the West by train, Mary had done everything from selling tickets to mending costumes. The shows ranged from burlesque to Shakespeare, and she'd loved every minute. Her big break had come on a humid night in Dodge City. When the star of the show fell ill, she'd filled in. In a theater full of cowhands and ruffians, she'd closed the show with “Home Sweet Home.” There had been no applause, not even the squeak of a chair, and she'd thought she had flopped.

Then a man sniffed.

Someone murmured, “Amen.”

A cowpoke jumped to his feet and broke into applause. The crowd rose in a wave, clapping and stamping their feet until she thought the walls would tumble to the ground.

She'd loved every minute of the applause.

She'd basked in the compliments.

When a reviewer called her a sensation, she'd read the newspaper story a hundred times. She'd gained a name for herself that day, and later she'd signed a contract to star at the Abilene Theater. There she'd met J.T., and there her career had ended.

Feeling melancholy, she walked back to Gus. The boy was standing by the cart, nervously looking up and down the street. After speaking with him, she was certain Todd Roman was among the boys who'd bullied him. Yesterday she'd visited Deputy Beau Morgan. He'd promised to keep an eye on the streets near the café, but as J.T. had predicted, the law couldn't do much else. She walked to Gus's side. “How are you doing?”

“G-good.”

“I'm glad.” She tousled his head. “You should lie down after lunch.”

“I d-don't
want
to l-l-lie down.”

Mary liked her brother's spunk, but she worried about his tone. He needed to be strong, but she didn't want to lose the sweet boy he'd always been. “Just don't overdo it,” she said mildly.

Frowning, he shoved the handcart down the boardwalk. As they passed the corner of the theater, he pointed to the top of the unfinished church. “L-l-look!”

Near the peak of the roof she saw a man darkened by shadow, balanced on scaffolding as he hammered wooden planks onto the rafters. He had long legs, broad
shoulders and a fringe of brown hair sticking out from his hat. Lean and muscular, he looked as comfortable as a mountain lion lazing on a tree branch. When he reached into the nail bucket, the light shifted and she recognized J.T.

She forgot about the sandwiches in the cart.

She forgot about the jugs of tea and the cobbler she'd brought.

She forgot everything except the man on the scaffolding thirty feet above the ground, out of reach but in the middle of her life. How had someone like J.T. ended up on the roof of a church with a hammer in his hand? It made no sense…none at all. What had he told Josh? If he'd revealed any of the details from the past, she'd be furious.

She turned to Gus. “Set up the cart. I have to speak with Pastor Josh.”

As her brother headed for a patch of shade, Mary went into the unfinished building. She spotted Josh standing at a table, making notes on the building plans with a stubby pencil. Sunlight filtered through the rafters, then turned to full shadow as she stepped under the planking. Aware of J.T. working above them, she walked quietly to Josh's side. He looked up and smiled. “Must be time for lunch.”

“It is.”

“Good, I'm starved.”

She wanted to ask him about J.T., but the hammering would force her to shout. Frustrated, she glanced up. J.T. had moved a few steps, giving her a view of his legs through the rafters as he pounded nails in a steady rhythm. Before she could look away, he shifted his feet to the right where the boards had yet to be placed. His
upper body came fully into her view. So did the gun belt hanging from his trim waist.

Look away,
she told herself.

But she couldn't do it. Seeing J.T. on the roof of a church left her stunned and gaping. Instead of his usual dark clothing, he was dressed in dungarees and a blue shirt that matched the sky. He didn't look anything like the gunslinger who'd left her in Abilene, nor did he appear to have gambled all night while indulging in liquor. He looked rested, healthy and sober.

He glanced down, maybe to speak to Josh, and saw her startled expression. Even with the height of the church between them, she saw a twinkle in his eyes. He'd surprised her, and he'd enjoyed doing it. Mary didn't know what to make of the feelings rushing through her. J. T. Quinn was a handsome man, and she'd once loved him. Her feelings had died, but she couldn't deny the leap in her belly at the sight of him. She quickly squelched her feelings. This man had broken her trust. She didn't want to feel anything for him. Not anger. Not love. She wanted to feel…nothing.

She gave a courteous nod. “Good afternoon, Mr. Quinn.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Larue.”

When a smile lifted his lips, she felt as if they were meeting for the first time.
Nothing
suddenly turned into
everything.
She recalled seeing him for the first time in Abilene and how he'd looked at her. He had that same recklessness now, and it took her back to their first kiss…their first everything.

Josh shouted up to J.T. “Come on down. Mary makes the best cobbler in town.”

“I know.”

And he did. In Kansas they'd taken a buggy ride to
nowhere. She'd brought a picnic lunch with cobbler made from the recipe she'd used this morning. They'd traded stories, and he'd kissed her for the first time. She hoped the memory didn't show in her eyes, but she saw it plainly in his. In the past they'd traded secrets with just a look, and she'd enjoyed the closeness. Today she feared it.

She lowered her eyes as if she hadn't seen him at all, but she heard every creak as he climbed down the scaffolding. When the noise stopped, she turned to Josh. “You hired J.T.?”

“I met him at Brick's last night.” He told her about offering J.T. the job and how he'd been willing to work on the roof. “I was glad to hire him. Is there a problem?”

“No,” she said. “I'm just surprised.”

“Surprised I hired him, or surprised he said yes?”

“Both, I guess.” She wanted to know what J.T. had said to Josh, but she couldn't pry without looking anxious. She settled for the obvious. “He's not exactly a churchgoer.”

“Maybe that'll change.”

“There's more.” Did Josh realize he'd hired a gunfighter? J.T. had killed fourteen men. “He's done things, bad things. As far as I know, he's not sorry.”

Josh considered her words, then spoke in a hush. “I don't know what's in J.T.'s heart, Mary. I
do
know God brought him here. I also know J.T. carries a gun, and I'm sure he's used it.”

“He has.”

He swatted a fly away from the drawings. “Every man has regrets. It's how he deals with them that matters. It seems to me J.T.'s in the right place.”

“He is. It's just—” she shrugged. “I don't know.”

“You're afraid,” Josh said simply.

Mary's cheeks burned. No one knew exactly what had
happened with J.T., but she wondered if Josh and Adie suspected. Their adopted son had been conceived out of wedlock by Josh's sister. Josh had judged the woman harshly, and he'd paid a terrible price for his lack of compassion. He and Adie wouldn't hold Mary's mistake against her, but other people would. She didn't know what to say to Josh, so she said nothing.

He lowered his voice. “Stay strong, Mary. If you're confused about J.T., talk to Adie.”

“I'll think about it.” But she already knew her decision. If she told her secret to anyone at all, she'd lose control over it.

Josh indicated the doorway. “Let's get lunch before it's all gone.”

They left the building with Mary leading the way. The workers had helped themselves to the meal, so she searched for J.T. and Gus. She found them leaning against the wall of the opera house, holding sandwiches and grinning as Fancy Girl did tricks at J.T.'s command. She'd never seen her brother so happy, and she couldn't help but be touched when J.T. gave the dog half his sandwich. The man she'd known in Abilene wouldn't even pet a dog. She could have been indifferent to the old J.T., but the new one inspired other feelings altogether. If she'd met him today for the first time, she would have welcomed him to Denver. She'd have smiled and even flirted a little.

No way would she go down that road. She'd forgiven J.T., but she'd never forget the pain of his betrayal. She knew how Josh had met him, but she still didn't know why J.T. had taken the job. Was he trying to impress her? Did he need the money? She didn't know, but the facts couldn't be denied. Instead of gambling and drinking, he was sharing his lunch with a hungry dog.

The changes in J.T. counted as the second biggest
surprise of her life, the first being the changes she'd experienced for herself. Who'd have thought an actress with a scandalous past would sing in church and love it? If she could change, so could J.T. If he'd changed as much as it seemed, where did that leave the rebellious leap of her heart? Mary didn't know, and she didn't want to find out. J.T. had ruined her life once and he could do it again.

She couldn't love this man because he'd betrayed her, and she couldn't hate him because of her faith. That left being his friend. She fetched another sandwich from the cart and headed in his direction. The gesture didn't mean a thing. Neither did the blush on her cheeks or the eager thrum of her pulse.

J.T.
saw Mary and nudged Gus. “Looks like your sister found us.”

“Yeah.”

The boy didn't sound happy about it, but J.T. was. He'd been looking forward to seeing her from the moment Josh mentioned she'd be bringing lunch. Watching her now, he saw a sparkle in her pretty brown eyes and the tilt of a smile. He'd also seen her hesitate at the handcart. He'd have to watch carefully to read her feelings, but he didn't mind. She looked beautiful in a blue suit that nipped in at her waist, and her golden hair was up in fancy twist.

He wanted to think she'd dressed up for him, but of course she hadn't. Earlier he'd surprised her and he'd enjoyed doing it. Looking at her now, he wondered why she'd dressed so formally to serve lunch to a work crew. He considered quizzing Gus, but the boy couldn't answer fast. By the time he managed the words, Mary would be at their side.

She approached with a smile and a paper-wrapped sandwich. “If I'd known Fancy was going to be here, I'd
have brought her a bone.” She offered J.T. the sandwich. “This is for you.”

“I had one.”

“You gave the entire thing to Fancy,” she said, scolding him but not really.

“Thanks,” he said as he took the food. “I'm half-starved.”

Mary shifted her weight. “I have to admit I'm surprised to see you. How did you end up working on the roof?”

He'd just taken a bite. Chewing, he decided to tell her the bald truth. “I'm so bored I can't stand myself. Pounding nails gives me something to do.”

“Is that all?” She looked baffled.

“More or less.” He decided against mentioning Roy. Explaining his concern required a lengthy conversation, and he didn't want to talk in front of Gus. He planned to speak to Mary tonight.

She looked at him thoughtfully. “Are you enjoying the work?”

“Yeah, I am.” He indicated the peak of the roof. “I like being high up.”

Not only could he keep an eye on Roy, also he enjoyed being away from danger and temptation. Watching the clouds wander across the sky, changing shape and moving at the whim of an invisible wind, he felt a yearning to put down his guns. What would it be like to live without that burden? J.T. didn't know, and he'd never find out. A man had to protect himself, because no one else would. He also intended to protect Mary and her family.

Standing in the sun, Mary reached into her drawstring bag, took out a hankie and dabbed at her forehead. “It's warm today, isn't it?”

J.T. agreed, but it wasn't the heat that had his attention.
He recognized Mary's bag from Abilene. She'd used it for special occasions—like auditions. His gaze went to the fluttering hankie, then to the white lace gloves covering her hands, and the delicate ribbons tied at her wrists. The pieces of the puzzle slammed together. They were standing in the shadow of Roy's opera house, and he'd seen her studying the poster for
Bohemian Girl.
Did Mary have plans to meet with the theater manager? It seemed likely.

Gus smiled at his sister. “F-F-Fancy does tricks. W-w-ant to see?”

“Sure,” she answered.

J.T. wanted to question her, but not with Gus there. Showing off Fancy Girl would give the boy what he needed, then J.T. could speak with Mary. “We'll start off easy.” He focused on Fancy. “Okay, girl. Sit.”

The dog sat.

“Roll over.”

The dog rolled in a full circle and popped to her feet. Gus laughed and so did Mary. J.T. had never heard such a lovely sound. He wanted to hear it again, and Fancy had plenty of tricks. With nothing to do at night, he'd spent hours teaching her, both to amuse himself and to keep her safe. If someone came after him, he wanted the dog to take orders. Not only did she respond to his voice, she followed hand commands.

“Sh-she's smart,” Gus said.

“There's more.” At J.T.'s command, Fancy sat up, shook hands, played dead and woofed. Last, he dropped to a crouch and said, “Kiss goodnight.” The dog enthusiastically licked his face.

Both Mary and Gus applauded, but Mary spoke for them both. “She's wonderful, J.T. You're a good teacher.”

He'd never thought of himself in that light. “She's a smart dog.”

Gus sighed. “I—I—I wish I c-could m-make her s-s-sit.”

“You can,” J.T. replied. “Watch this.”

He pointed to the ground and Fancy sat. He flattened his hand and made a cutting sign. She dropped down and played dead. Last, he gave the dog a thumbs-up. She jumped to her feet, watching diligently for his next command. Gus's eyes were as wide as saucers.

“You try,” J.T. said. “Start with pointing to the ground.”

When Gus pointed, Fancy hesitated, but only slightly, then she sat. Gus's face lit up. He still had a whopper of a black eye, but his grin was even bigger. For the next few minutes, J.T. taught Gus the hand signals, with Fancy Girl obeying perfectly. J.T. felt proud, and the boy and dog looked even happier.

He clapped the kid on the back. “You did a good job.”

“It—it worked!”

“Sure it did,” J.T. replied. “You gave Fancy the right signs, and you did it like you meant it.”

Gus beamed at his sister. “I—I want a dog!”

“We'll see,” she said, smiling.

For the first time in years, J.T. felt genuinely good. The feeling was on the inside, not because of whiskey or winning at cards, and he didn't want it to leave. How did a man hold on to such goodness? He didn't know, but he wanted to try.

He broke off a bite of the second sandwich for Fancy Girl. As she licked his fingers, Mary gave him a stern look. “I brought that for you.”

“I figured I'd fill up on cobbler.”

Her cheeks turned pink, a sign she remembered that picnic in Kansas as plainly as he did. Their eyes stayed locked—his daring her to remember, and hers filled with something akin to fear—until she turned to Gus. “Would you get cobbler for J.T.?”

“Sure.”

As the boy left, Mary turned to him. “Thank you for helping Gus.”

He considered mentioning the camping trip he had in mind, but he wanted to speak to her out of Gus's earshot. “I haven't done much.”

“You've done more than you know.” She patted his dog. “So has Fancy Girl. She's amazing.”

They chatted about the dog, an easy subject for them both, until Gus came back with two bowls of cobbler. He gave one to J.T. and offered the second to Mary. She refused it, so he happily claimed it for himself. She touched the boy's shoulder. “Collect all the dishes when you're done eating, then wait with Pastor Josh until I get back, okay?”

Gus's brow wrinkled. “I—I—I don't want to wait with P-P-Pastor Josh. I—I'm not a baby!”

“I know, sweetie.”

J.T. would have given his left thumb to hear Mary call him sweetie, but he wasn't a twelve-year-old boy with something to prove. He punched Gus playfully on the shoulder. “Hey, kid. How about you get the dishes and then work with me?”

“Really?”

“Sure.” He indicated the scaffolding. “Do you mind heights?”

Gus's eyes lit up, but Mary frowned. “It's too dangerous.”

J.T. understood her concern, but Gus needed to do
something manly. Climbing high would give him a reason to brag. “I'll keep an eye out for him. It's high, but the scaffolding's wide.”

Gus looked at his sister with a silent plea. She must have felt the urgency, because she smiled at him. “Are you sure you want to climb that high?”

“Y-yes.”

“All right. But do what J.T. says.”

“I will.”

He had to speak with Mary alone about Roy, so he gave Gus a job. “See that bucket over there?” He pointed to the bottom of the scaffolding. “It's for nails and it's empty. Ask Josh where you can fill it.”

As Gus ran off, J.T. turned to Mary. “You look pretty,” he said, meaning it and hoping to disarm her at the same time.

“Thank you.”

“Are you going somewhere?” He tried to sound matter-of-fact, but worry sharpened his tone.

She arched her brows. “I don't think that's any of your concern.”

Oh, yes, it was! She'd dressed up for something—or someone. He pushed back a surge of jealousy, but it leaked into his voice. “It sounds like you're visiting a secret admirer.”

She glared at him.

Eye to eye, they each waited for the other to crack. J.T. vowed it wouldn't be him, but looking at Mary and standing close, seeing the curve of her lips and the tilt of her chin, he felt the hammer of the past. This woman made him feel tender inside. He had to work to sound tough. “You're not going to tell me, are you?”

“No, I'm not.” She took the longest breath he'd ever
seen her take, then she lifted her chin. “My life is
none
of your business.”

“It used to be,” he said quietly.

The look she gave him was scathing. No matter what she wanted to believe, or what she wanted
him
to believe, J.T. knew she wasn't indifferent to him. She cared far more than she wanted to admit to herself or to him.

“Mary!” Someone shouted from the street.

He turned and saw the girl with cinnamon hair. Flushed and nervous, she was wearing a fancy getup and walking in their direction.

Mary sighed. “That's my sister.”

The girl called out again. “Hurry! We're going to be late.”

Not bothering to hide his upset, J.T. squared off with Mary. “Are you meeting with Roy Desmond?”

“What if I am?”

He wished he'd told her about Roy sooner. “You have to trust me. He's not who you think he is.”

Before she could react, Gertie reached her side. “It's two o'clock. We have to go
now.
”

Mary turned to her sister. “Mr. Desmond won't mind if we're a bit late.”

“
I
mind!” Gertie declared. “I'm so nervous I can hardly think!”

“Take a deep breath,” Mary instructed. “It'll calm you.”

J.T. needed calming, too. But breathing wouldn't do the trick. Nothing short of throwing Mary over his shoulder and carrying her away from Roy and his opera house would take away the burning in his gut. He gave her a hard look. “I know Roy. He's dangerous.”

She arched a brow. “I don't believe you.”

He deserved the jab, but he cared about her and Roy didn't. “Mary, you have to listen—”

“This is none of your business,” she insisted.

Gertie studied him, pulling back as if he were a toad. “Who are you?”

He looked her dead in the eye. “I'm J. T. Quinn, and you're too young to be going to the theater without your sister.”

“I beg your pardon!”

“I saw you last night.” He didn't want Mary siding with Gertie, so he calmed his voice. “Mr. Desmond spoke to you for quite some time.”

“Yes, but—”

“Don't trust him, Miss Larue.” He was old enough to call her Gertie, but he wanted her to feel the weight of being a grown woman. “I know Mr. Desmond better than you do.”

“You have no business—”

Mary broke in. “Gertie, don't be rude. I'll handle Mr. Quinn.”

The girl didn't argue, but she shot him a look of pure contempt. J.T. turned to Mary. “What's this meeting about?”

She hesitated. “He wants me to star in
Bohemian Girl.
There's a part for Gertie, too.”

J.T. smelled twice the trouble he'd sensed earlier. Roy had upped the ante by involving Mary's sister. Unless J.T. found a way to influence Mary, he'd lose her to Roy and the theater. He needed more time. “Have that meeting, Mary. But I want you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“Don't give him an answer today. We were friends once. Give me a chance to prove I'm right.”

“I don't owe you anything.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I'm asking a favor.” J.T. rarely asked for anything. He usually took what he wanted, but Mary's trust had to be given freely.

“All right,” she finally said. “We'll talk tonight.”

“That's all I'm asking.”

She said goodbye to Gus, took Gertie by the arm and headed for the theater. No harm would come to them today. The danger lay in Roy convincing Mary to trust him and then taking advantage. J.T. worried about her, but he worried about Gertie even more. The girl had all the sense of a child playing dress-up. Tonight he'd speak his mind, and he wouldn't give up until Mary cut all ties with Desmond.

 

As Mary and Gertie approached the theater, Roy opened the door with a sweep of his arm. “Good afternoon, ladies! Welcome to the Newcastle.”

“Hello, Roy,” Mary replied.

Gertie nodded a bit too graciously. “Good afternoon, Mr. Desmond.”

Mary stepped into the foyer with seeming calm, but the quarrel with J.T. had unnerved her. She'd seen honest worry in his eyes, but she also knew J.T. to be overly cautious. She felt certain he was overreacting to Roy's interest in Gertie, but she'd agreed to his request because she'd once respected his judgment. For all his faults, J.T. was a good judge of character. Today she'd gauge Roy's conduct for herself. Tonight she'd weigh the risks and make a decision.

Roy gave her a warm smile. “This is your first time in the Newcastle, isn't it, Mary?”

“Yes.”

“Let's start with a tour.” He raised his arm to indicate
the foyer. “As you can see, my investors have spared no expense.”

Mary had been in dozens of theaters, but none of them had been draped in velvet and gilded with gold. The burgundy carpet squished beneath her best shoes, and she smelled traces of the expensive perfume worn by the women at last night's show. On the sides of the foyer, staircases swept up to the balcony that held a mix of plush boxes and less expensive stalls.

She felt Roy's eyes on her face and instantly schooled her features. “It's lovely.”