Wilda's Outlaw (35 page)

They left the children with Rachel’s friend Margaret, who was a middle-aged friendly woman with round cheeks and a merry smile. Would she smile like that if she knew what her friend was up to? Wilda doubted it. Leaving the horses and wagon in the wagon yard at the edge of town, she and Rachel headed for the jail. Since Rachel had conceived the plan, Wilda let her take the lead.

In front of the confectionary store, Rachel stopped and gazed in the window for a moment. Pointed at some chocolate drops.

“I think those will do fine.”

“We don’t have any money.”

“Oh, yes, we do.” Rachel fingered the pouch tied around her wrist. “Mr. Smith has paid for his own freedom, I think. I won’t need all of this. We will make out fine.”

Inside, the confectioner wrapped half a dozen chocolate drops in brown paper and tied it with a piece of twine. He gave Rachel four bits in change from the two-dollar piece she handed him.

Outside, she paused and turned to Wilda. “Now, you know what you’re to do while I distract the deputy?”

“What if Sheriff Calumet is there?”

“We’ll wait until he leaves. He might not be dumb enough to fall for our trick.”

Wilda nodded eagerly. Calder was only minutes away. Soon she would see him again, and even if he denied his love, she would tell him what Rachel had said. Surely he couldn’t deny the truth then. Especially when they broke him out of jail and he had his freedom.

“You stay here until I check it out, then I’ll signal you to come ahead.” Rachel headed along the boardwalk, the heels of her shoes thunking in time with the beating of Wilda’s heart.

A woman holding on to the hand of a little blonde haired girl moved past her, turned and smiled. Wilda nodded, then darted her gaze back to Rachel, who stepped through the door of the jail at that moment. Time dragged. A couple of riders passed by, a wagon rattled along in the opposite direction. Wind whirled dust out of the street.

Still no Rachel.

Thunder grumbled in the distance and the clouds that had threatened all day blotted out the sun. The air grew damp and smelled fresh. Just as Rachel stepped out the door and waved at her, large drops splatted in the dusty street. A jag of lightning cracked the sky wide-open and let loose torrents of rain. Wilda ran the half block and ducked inside the door. Rachel had no extra bonnet, so she was bare headed and her hair was drenched in the brief exposure to the storm.

“This kind deputy has said you may visit your brother for just a moment, but you must hurry.” Rachel pointed her gaze deliberately toward a hook on the wall where a ring of keys hung.

Then she turned to the deputy, positioning herself so he had to look away from Wilda to pay attention to her. And he definitely wanted to pay attention to her. His expression and body language proved that.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest thing. Here, have another candy. Let me.” Rachel held a chocolate drop daintily to his lips and smiled up into his face.

Trembling so hard she feared knocking the keys to the floor, Wilda managed to finger them from the hook. He surely must hear her heart hammering in her chest, but the deputy paid her no mind. Clearly, he was enjoying being flirted with.

The door creaked when Wilda pushed it open and she cringed, but kept going. The only way this would work would be to hurry, and get her part done while Rachel all but offered her body to the flummoxed deputy.

The cell was gloomy, and for a moment she could only see shadows. Quickly, she found the padlock and tried three keys before one worked. By the time the lock snapped open, she was perspiring and biting at her lips.

“What—” Calder stared at her.

“Hush, now. Come on, hurry.”

“Wilda? What are you doing? No.”

“You come on out of there now before Rachel gets found out. Both of you.”

Though they whispered, she was terrified that at any moment the deputy would come up behind her and snap on the cuffs. The storm, now a constant rumbling, covered any sound they might have made.

“You don’t understand,” Calder said.

“I know. You don’t love me. We’ll talk about it later. Will you come on?”

Smith was the one who finally got Calder to moving. While Rachel wiped a bit of chocolate from the deputy’s lips and offered it to him on the end of her finger, they tiptoed behind his back and slipped out the door.

Into the pouring rain they ran.

“The wagon is up there.” Wilda pointed.

“I’ll get it.” Smith took off at a run, his figure soon disappearing into the heavy downpour.

“What about Rachel?” Calder asked, refusing to meet Wilda’s gaze.

About that time a woman screamed. Shots were fired. Then all was quiet.

“Rachel. My God, did he shoot her?”

“I don’t think so. That wasn’t in her plan, anyway.”

Here she came, appearing out of the thick rain, drenched and laughing. The wagon arrived and they all piled in.

“Go the other direction,” she shouted above the tumult of the storm.

Smith obeyed, hauling the reins around so that Jeb headed back the way they’d come.

“Who got shot? Who screamed?” Wilda cried above the commotion.

“I screamed, sent the deputy the other way. I think he shot at his own imagination.”

Wilda collapsed in nervous laughter, arms around Rachel. “I can’t believe it worked. It was so easy, except I thought I was going to have an attack of the palsy or something.”

“You? I was shaking so hard feeding him that candy I almost threw up on him.”

“I oughta have your hide, the both of you,” Calder grumbled.

Again, they hugged each other and laughed.

“Where are we going?” Smith hollered. “I can’t see a damn thing.”

“There’s an old abandoned homestead a few miles out of town, and back off the road a ways. We left the horses there.”

Finally, she spotted the dilapidated house and the few trees clustered around it, and then the old well curb. “This is it.”

“We can’t stay here long,” Smith said.

“You get the horses and we’ll go to Margaret’s and pick up the children.”

Smith hopped down and Calder moved into his place, taking up the reins. Wilda climbed over the seat and sat next to him. Rain drizzled down the back of her dress, plastering it to her body, leaving nothing to his imagination. In the cold and wet, her nipples stood out like pearls against the thin cloth of the dress.

He swallowed any further comment, licked water from his lips, and smacked the reins on Jeb’s hips. “Come on, girl. Giddup.” Wilda and Rachel had guts enough for him and Smith both.

What was she going to say when she learned that Governor Osborn had issued amnesty for all outlaws? He wasn’t about to tell her yet. It was more fun running to freedom as if the hounds of hell pursued them. Making love to her would likely be as wild as the flight itself, if she ever spoke to him again.

Chapter Twenty

In the small, cozy kitchen, Rachel’s friend Margaret passed around towels to the sodden group. Everyone chattered like it was a party. No one mentioned the wagon and horses hidden in the nearby livery stable, nor the stealthy return to Margaret’s under the cover of the dark storm.

“These are friends of mine,” Rachel had announced, and Margaret opened her door with no question.

Gaze on Wilda, Calder rubbed at his wet hair. The tilt of her head as she tended to her own locks reminded him of a painting he’d once seen over a bar in a saloon in Kansas City. Drenched fabric caressed the sensual curve of her breasts when she raised her arms and fingered a long pin from her loosening bun. Red hair tumbled down her back like a waterfall. His imagination soared. Lying with her, removing the wet dress, kissing away the rain. Oops, better be careful or his own wet clothes would reveal his desires.

She caught him watching and smiled so sweetly his gut lurched. He felt like a blamed fool. With what was going on, still all he could think of was bedding her then and there. In front of Smith and Margaret and Rachel and the kids, who were having a grand time dodging their mother’s attempts to dry their waterlogged clothes. To focus his mind elsewhere, he grabbed John Mark and toweled him down while tickling him till he squealed with delight.

Soon he’d attempt to explain to Wilda why he’d said all those hurtful things to her back at the jail. It was only because of her and Rachel that he was no longer in that terrible place. Either she hadn’t believed him or did it for Rachel’s sake. The only two women who meant a thing to him were here in this room, both beautiful beyond words. He wanted to hug and kiss them both, but for different reasons. Wanted to promise them he would not fail them again. That his old life was behind him forever. Margaret’s chatter brought him back to the present.

“Whenever you’re dry, let’s all go into the parlor where it’s more comfortable. I’ll make us some coffee.”

“Miss Wilda, what became of your young friend?” Smith asked.

“She returned to Fairhaven. Seems she has some ties there.”

He nodded, then glanced at Calder. “I’m going down to the livery. Looks as if we could use another packhorse. I’ll get what I can for your wagon, Missus.” He glanced quickly at Rachel, then away. Casting another glance toward Wilda, he slipped out the door without waiting for a reply.

Calder watched him disappear into the darkness of the storm. Clearly, Smith expected that the three of them would be on the run together, and soon.

Rachel herded the children into the other room, Wilda just behind them, followed by Calder, who touched her shoulder. The contact sent a jolt through him.

“Thank you for what you did,” he said.

“It was Rachel’s idea.”

“Well, all the same, I appreciate it. You could’ve been hurt.” He bit his lip so as not to mention the amnesty. She would be upset if she learned that her and Rachel’s effort to break him out might have been unnecessary. Though, when it came right down to it, he didn’t believe Sheriff Calumet would honor the amnesty as far as he was concerned. The man had a real burr up his butt when it came to Baron, Deke and himself. He didn’t much blame him, the gang had wreaked havoc with law enforcement in the county for a long while.

“Would the children like a cookie?” Margaret asked, bustling in with a tray loaded with cups and saucers, sugar and cream, a plate of cookies and a pot of coffee.

“Yay!” Mary Louise shouted. Then, seeing her mother’s gaze, bobbed her head and said, “Yes, thank you.”

Elizabeth Ann, ever the shyest, hung back, one finger in her mouth, until Margaret gave two more to Mary Louise and told her to give the younger children each one.

Elizabeth took hers, murmured, “Thank you.” John Mark grabbed the cookie in a pudgy hand and stuck it in his mouth, bringing laughter from everyone.

A sadness filled Calder’s heart. He’d likely never see Rachel and these wonderful kids again.

“Did you all hear the commotion earlier today?” Margaret asked, pouring coffee.

When she brought up the subject, they all stared, mesmerized into silence. She seemed not to notice and continued with her tale.

“First two outlaws tried to rob the bank and got themselves killed for their trouble, then it wasn’t any time till two men they were holding in jail waiting for a trial, just walked out right under the eyes of a deputy.”

Calder’s gruff reply covered Rachel’s and Wilda’s flurry of exclamations.

“Does anyone know who they were? The ones who got killed robbing the bank?” No need to ask. He knew. But the question turned the talk from his and Smith’s escape.

Wilda took his arm. “Let’s sit down first. I’m afraid it’s bad news.”

He let her lead him to the divan where she sank beside him. He caught her glance and shook his head no. If she told him here in front of Margaret, then that would put the woman at risk for taking an outlaw under her roof. His being here threatened the safety of everyone in the room. He tensed, as if to stand.

Wilda’s grip held him back. She glanced at Margaret, hesitated. “You mean they walked right out of the jail?” She squeezed Calder’s hand and nodded in understanding. Her avoiding the subject of the bank robbers told him what he’d not wanted to hear. Baron and Deke were dead. Something they dare not discuss in front of Margaret.

Too bad. Baron just never did have good sense. And he’d miss the quiet Deke. They’d chosen their path, one he’d almost taken himself. But all the same, their death’s saddened him.

“Yep, walked right out,” Margaret said. “Deputy claimed they somehow busted the lock and overpowered him. Took off into the storm. Sheriff Calumet was fit to be tied. He got up a few men who’d helped out earlier on the bank robbery. Someone claimed they saw the two outlaws riding out of town headed southwest. That posse rode hell bent for leather after them.”

Rachel lifted wide, innocent eyes. “I’ll bet the sheriff is gonna have that deputy’s hide, letting prisoners go that way. I wonder how it happened.”

Margaret laughed. “Poor Jake never had the mettle to be a lawman. He’s a nephew to Calumet is all the reason he’s there. Calumet will have a fit, but he won’t do anything to the boy. Heaven only knows when this is going to end, but this town has always been an exciting and dangerous place to live. Now a bank robbery and a jail break, all in one day. I reckon such nonsense will come to an end soon though, what with Governor Osborn’s issuing his amnesty and all.”

“Amnesty?” Wilda asked, fingers loosening on Calder’s arm.

“Oh, yes. It’s all over town.”

“Just what does it mean?” Wilda and Rachel asked in unison, staring at Calder.

He lifted his shoulders, tried to act like he knew nothing about any of this. Women always knew when a man was lying, though, and there’d be hell to pay later.

Unaware of the undercurrent, Margaret offered him more coffee and he took it, gulping the black liquid down quickly. A fortification of sorts. But he would keep his mouth shut and let Margaret explain.

When all the cups were refilled, she did just that. “Any outlaws who come in and sign an agreement to leave the state and never return will be allowed to go free, with a few exceptions, of course. Like mad-dog killers.”

“When did the sheriff learn of this?” Wilda’s fingers tightened around Calder’s until he grimaced.