The Outlaws: Sam (2 page)

Lacey had nearly reached the henhouse when
she caught sight of a man washing up at the pump. His back was to
her, but she would have sworn no hired hand on the B&G matched
his description. He was magnificent, like no other cowhand she'd
seen. His hips were narrow, his back broad and his shoulders wide.
When he bent over to dunk his head beneath the pump, her gaze
lingered on the taut mounds of his buttocks.

Her breath hitched.

Even though she couldn't see his face,
something about the man was familiar. Too familiar for comfort. A
shiver slid down her spine as memories assailed her. Her thoughts
were so painful she forced them away. Then she realized she was
staring at the man's backside and deliberately looked elsewhere.
What would he think of her if he caught her watching him?

Shaking inappropriate thoughts and unwelcome
memories from her mind, she proceeded to the henhouse. But Lacey's
wayward thoughts still lingered on the man she had once loved. The
dark-haired stranger reminded her of the him, and the war, and how
her life had changed because it. A Rebel had walked into her life
and left her a little wiser, a little older, a little bruised. But
she had Andy, and she couldn't regret a moment of the
experience.

Sam slept the entire and day and through the
night. The following morning Rusty took him in hand, introducing
him to Luke, the B&G cook, and the ten hands who worked the
ranch. Most were young men ranging in age from seventeen to just
under thirty. Sam fell somewhere in the middle.

After a satisfying breakfast, Rusty took Sam
to meet Miz Lacey.

"She's usually in her office going over
accounts at this time of day. I'm sure she won't have any
objections about me hiring you on for that's my jurisdiction, but
you need to meet her anyway."

Sam squared his shoulders. "So let's go meet
your Miz Lacey. By the way, what does this paragon look like?"

"Like an angel. Small and blond with unusual
greenish gold eyes and a smile that could light up the world. The
boys would do anything for her, but they don't think much of her
intended husband."

Sam fell silent. Small and blond with
greenish gold eyes could describe the Lacey he had fallen in love
with during the hellish war between the states. But that Lacey was
a Yankee and to his knowledge was still living in Pennsylvania.

Rita, the cook/housekeeper, let them in the
back door. She smiled at Rusty. "The Senora is in her office. You
know the way."

The house, Sam noted as he passed through the
kitchen and parlor and down the hallway, was neat, clean, and well
kept up. The furniture was functional, not fancy, apparently built
for hard wear. Rag throw rugs were scattered over polished hardwood
floors, and the curtains were drawn back to allow the breeze to
pass through the open windows.

"This is Miz Lacey's office," Rusty said,
pausing before a closed door.

Rusty rapped lightly, and moments later a
feminine voice bid them enter. Rusty opened the door and walked
inside. Sam followed close on his heels.

"Howdy, Miz Lacey," Rusty greeted. "I hired
on a new hand. Thought you'd like to meet him. Say howdy to Miz
Lacey, Sam."

Sam stepped forward, and found himself
entangled in his worst nightmare. Miz Lacey was Lacey Peters! The
one woman he had every reason to hate. The woman who evoked
memories he'd fought hard to bury all these years. Now here she
was, his nemesis, his nightmare, looking more beautiful than he
remembered. Fate had dealt him a devastating blow.

Lacey stared at Sam Gentry as if he were a
ghost come back to haunt her. Her face papaled and her hands shook
as she clutched the edge of the desk. Sam Gentry! Alive! Not dead
and buried all those years ago like she'd been led to believe. He
stood before her larger than life, a bit older but more handsome
than she remembered. She couldn't believe it. Alive! And he was
staring at her with more venom than she deserved.

Why hadn't he gotten in touch with her after
the war? Her heart sank. She knew why, but he was wrong. She'd had
nothing to do with her father's decision to trade him to the
Yankees for her brother.

"Are you all right, Miz Lacey?" Rusty asked.
"You look kind of peaked all of a sudden."

Lacey heard Rusty's voice as if it were
coming from a great distance. She knew she had to answer but
couldn't seem to make her mouth work. She realized her face was
white as a sheet but she had just received the greatest shock of
her life. She collected her tattered nerves, swallowed hard, and
said, "Anyone you hire on is fine with me, Rusty. You're the expert
here. But if you don't mind, I'd like a few words alone with
Sam."

If Rusty found anything unusual about Lacey's
request, he made no mention of it. "Sure thing, Miz Lacey. Meet me
at the corral when you're finished here, Sam."

Sam and Lacey continued to stare at one
another long after Rusty left. Lacey was the first to break the
weighted silence. "You let me go on thinking you were dead all
these years! Why!"

Sam searched for his tongue and finally found
it, along with his anger. "You damn well know why! Did you think I
would return to you after you betrayed me?"

"I had nothing to do with that."

Bitterness colored his words. "Tell it to
someone who will believe you."

"I begged Captain Wiltshire to tell me what
happened to you. All he'd say was that you'd been taken to a ship
to be transported north to prison. I wrote to Washington but they
had no record of you ever being in one of their prisons. I was told
that you had probably died before you arrived at the prison, given
the condition of the prison ships. I didn't want to believe you
were dead but everything I'd been told pointed in that
direction."

"Captain Wiltshire!" Sam spat. "Wasn't he
that blond Yankee who came for me after you betrayed me? Did you
take up with him after he carted me away?" He gave a bark of
laughter. "You didn't really think he would trade me for your
brother, did you?"

A pained look crossed Lacey's face. "I didn't
know it then, but my brother had already died at Andersonville.
Something Captain Wiltshire neglected to tell us."

His voice held a biting edge. "So your
betrayal was for nothing. Well, you needn't have worried. I never
made reached the prison. It's true that I a Yankee patrol escorted
me to the prison ship, but they were set upon by Rebel forces and I
was set free. I survived the rest of the war without a
scratch."

"Why didn't you tell me you were alive? I'm
your
wife
! I had a right to know."

"You had no rights where I was concerned. You
lost them the day the Yankees came for me."

"Why are you here? How did you find me?"

"I'm here by accident; I had no idea I'd find
you here. In fact, I never even think about you. It's like you
never existed."

Lacey looked stricken, but she immediately
recovered. "Did you end our marriage? Have you taken another
wife?"

"I saw no reason to end our marriage since I
had no desire to remarry...ever. You taught me that women were
untrustworthy. I was young and foolish when we met. The war, the
threat of sudden death, does strange things to men. Our marriage
should have never happened. Over the years I managed to forget I
had a wife. I understand you're to be married soon, so I suspect
I'm not the only one who forgot our marriage."

Lacey's chin quivered but she wouldn't give
in to her anger. "I thought you were dead. I waited six years for
you to return to me. What else was I to think?"

"Nice try, Lacey, but it won't work. How many
lovers have you taken since that day we paparted? I understand you
have a son."

"Leave Andy out of this. He has nothing to do
with you and me."

"Who's the boy's father? Is it Wiltshire? Why
wouldn't he marry you? Oh, that's right, you were already married.
Whose name does the boy carry?"

"Mama, Mama! Rita made sugar cookies. Can I
have one?"

The lad who burst into the room was the image
of Lacey. Right down to his blond ringlets and pert nose. Only his
eyes were different. They were a clear, guileless blue. Sam knew
immediately the boy wasn't his for the Gentry men were all
dark-haired and dark-eyed. Obviously the lad belonged to the blond
Captain Wiltshire, just like he'd suspected.

Sam watched dispassionately as Lacey held out
her arms and Andy ran into them.

"Can I, Mama? I promise to eat all my
lunch."

"Of course, Andy, run along now. Tell Rita
you can have a cookie. But only one."

Andy beamed at her. Then he noticed Sam for
the first time. "You're new here, aren't you, mister?"

The boy was so appealing Sam couldn't stop
the smile that sprang to his lips. "I just hired on. My name's Sam.
What's your name?"

"Andy."

"Andy what? You have a last name, don't
you?"

"Sam..." The warning came from Lacey, but was
promptly ignored.

"Andy Gentry," the boy said. My papa's dead.
He died in the war. Mama said he was a hero."

Sam stared at Lacey, his expression fierce.
"She did, did she? How old are you?"

Andy puffed out his chest. "Five. Almost a
man. Man enough to take care of Mama, anyway."

"Run along, love," Lacey said.
"Mister...er...Sam and I need to talk."

"I'll see you around, Sam," Andy called over
his shoulder as he flew out the door.

"You gave him my last name!" Sam hissed.
"He's the picture of Wiltshire. Why does your bastard bear my
name?"

"I don't owe you any explanations," Lacey
blasted. "What do you intend to do about our marriage? Will you
apply for a divorce or shall I?"

The stubborn streak in Sam spoke before his
saner self thought his answer through. "I'm not going to do a damn
thing."

Anger made him want to hurt Lacey. If
throwing a monkey wrench into her wedding plans hurt her, then so
be it. Let her suffer as he had suffered. He had married her
because he'd loved her. She had found him in a field littered with
bodies after a battle in Pennsylvania. His leg had been broken by a
minnie ball and she'd taken him in and healed him, hiding him from
the Yankees.

They had fallen in love...or rather he had
fallen in love. Her father had caught them making love one night
and dragged the preacher out of bed to marry them. He was nearly
recovered when the Yankees came for him. Tom Peters, Lacey's
father, led him to believe that Lacey had betrayed him, and Sam had
no reason to doubt him. He was told she had done it to save her
brother. Captain Wiltshire had informed them that Ron Peters was
being held in a Southern prison and so ill he might die. It was
Sam's belief that Lacey had offered Sam as a trade for her
brother.

Lacey paled. "What did you say?"

"You're not getting out of this marriage that
easily. Does your intended know your son is a bastard? Have you
told him anything about your background?"

"Damn you," Lacey hissed. "Taylor Cramer
knows I'm a widow. Andy's birth was legal in every way."

"But you're not a widow, are you? And Andy
isn't mine." He paused, suddenly appalled by what Lacey had done.
"How dare you give your son my last name!"

"What other choice did I have? I was your
wife, I bear your name."

"Wife, bah! Do you know how betrayed I felt
when the Yankees came for me? Do you have any idea the anguish you
put me through? I loved you, dammit! It sickens me to think how
young and foolish I was back then."

"I wasn't even there when Captain Wiltshire
came for you. It wasn't my doing. Do you know how I felt when you
showed up alive and well today? My first reaction was shock. Then
anger took over when I remembered all the years you let me think
you were dead."

"You were dead to me, why shouldn't I be dead
to you?"

A frisson of guilt passed through Sam, but he
pushed it aside. What Lacey had done to him was unforgivable. He
shouldn't feel any remorse for letting her believe he was dead.
Obviously she hadn't grieved too long. Her son Andy was proof that
she hadn't waited to take a lover.

"Surely you don't intend to stay here," Lacey
said. "I'm to be married in a few weeks."

Sam sent her a mocking smile. "I don't think
so."

"Sam, please. If you ever cared for me
you'd..."

His dark eyes narrowed and his face hardened.
"The young man who loved you no longer exists. Sorry, Lacey, there
will be no marriage. Do you want to tell Cramer or shall I?"

Lacey gulped back a cutting reply. She didn't
know this Sam and had no idea what he was capable of. The Sam she'd
once loved was kind and loving and sweet. This Sam was hard and
cold and unfeeling. Why did he have to return from the dead?

"I'll tell him, in my own good time. But he
won't take this lying down. He wants to marry me and...and...I want
to marry him."

Dark, glittering eyes searched her face. "You
don't sound all that convinced. This ought to prove interesting.
It's your turn to hurt for awhile."

Sam didn't know what hurting was, Lacey
thought. She'd been devastated to learn her father had betrayed
Sam. When no one could tell her what had happened to Sam, and she
thought that he had died in a prison camp, she'd felt as if her
life had ended. Knowing that Sam went to his death believing she
had betrayed him had nearly killed her. Then she learned that she
was pregnant and her son had given her a reason to go on.

Now Sam had turned up in her life again, but
it wasn't the Sam she had loved. She knew intuitively that this
vindictive man wouldn't listen to her explanation so she didn't
give him one. She wanted him gone, before painful memories made her
recall all the things she had loved about Sam Gentry.