Outlaw for Christmas (9781101573020) (16 page)

“Well, hell, John. I don't recall. That was a long time ago.”

Banyon frowned as Noah spoke with an exaggerated country twang. “How many, then?”

“They all run together for me. Guess I'd have to count the notches in my gun belt. But old Leon took it away; 'fraid I'd cheat the hangman of his job and Leon of his pleasure.”

“Noah, you're not helping yourself this way.”

“And how
would
I help myself, John? What's done is done. I am who they say I am. Will I die any better if I tell you all about it? I don't think so.”

“I could ask Ruth my questions.”

Noah stilled. Across the room, so did Harker.

“Ruth doesn't know anything about me. She thought she did.” Noah sighed. “But she doesn't.”

He glanced at the sheriff again, and this time they shared a silent communication that should have amazed Noah but didn't.

“Leave her be, John,” Harker ordered.

Banyon continued to contemplate Noah. “I can just make it up, you know.”

“John! Do you mean to tell me that all those penny dreadfuls are made up?”

Noah's sarcasm surprised a laugh from Banyon. “I'd rather you told me the truth.”

“I don't think I know the truth anymore.”

The newspaperman gave Noah a slow nod, then stood. “I guess I don't really need to talk to you, Leon, since I'm making this up.”

“Fine.” Harker opened the door. “Good night, John.”

Banyon left, and Harker slammed the door behind him.

“Don't you want to tell him the exciting story of your daring apprehension of the most dangerous criminal in the history of the West?”

Harker rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Kansas.”

Noah lay on his rickety bed and tipped his hat down over his face. He doubted he'd sleep, but he'd rather try than spar words with Banyon or Harker.

The door burst open with a thud, and Noah came to his feet, hand grasping for a gun that was no longer there. He needn't have worried. Harker was already pointing his weapon at Robert Kelly.

At least their newest visitor wasn't a lynch mob—not that one rope was much different from another once it was around a man's neck.

Kelly looked wild, face flushed, hair askew. He wore no coat despite the cold night, and his usually neat suit was wrinkled and blotched with dark spots of damp from melting snow.

His frantic gaze searched the room, coming to rest on Noah. “What's going on here, Walker?”

“I'm in jail, sir.”

“I can see that. And I've heard why. It's all over town.” He began to curse, pacing back and forth in front of Noah's cage. Harker shrugged and holstered his gun.

“I didn't steal from you.”

Kelly stopped pacing and pressed his face between the bars. “Damn right. I checked your drawer every day after you left. You were always clear to the penny.”

“But you didn't know who he was,” Harker put in, puzzled.

“I don't trust anyone, Leon. Not even you.”

The shocked expression on the sheriff's face would have made Noah laugh if he hadn't been so mad. “You trusted me with your daughter but not your money?”

Kelly appeared confused as to why this was such a problem. Noah wanted to bang the man's head against the bars until he understood what a bastard he was, but Noah doubted he had enough time left in his life to get that message through.

Kelly paced some more. “You've wrecked everything now. You'd have been so damned perfect if you'd just been Walker and not Kansas. I can smooth over a lot in this town, but I can't smooth over a murdering outlaw. I'll have a hard enough time smoothing over the fact that I let a thief loose in my bank.”

He paced and mumbled, mumbled and paced. Noah glanced at Harker, who shrugged again. Kelly was behaving irrationally—or more so than usual.

“I look like a fool,” he muttered, “and I don't take that kindly.”

Noah growled in disgust. “You
are
a fool, Kelly.”

The man stopped pacing, “I'm not the one in jail.”

Noah smirked. “No? You're in jail out there as much as I am in here. You're possessed by things—money, this town, your reputation.”

“That's my legacy.”

“A legacy should be a person, not things.”

“Ruth.” Kelly's face lit up. He whirled about and pointed at the sheriff. “You're in, Harker. He's out. You can have Ruth.” He rubbed his hands together. “Everything can go back to the way it was before he showed up. It'll be like he was never even here.”

Harker contemplated Noah with an odd expression on his face. “Somehow I doubt that, Robert.”

Kelly ignored them both. “In fact, let's get you two married tonight. That should help put some of the gossips to bed.”

Though Noah knew Ruth would be better off with Harker than her father—Harker cared for Ruth; her father didn't—he still had an objection to her being married off against her will—and before he was too dead to care.

“Don't you think Ruth should have something to say about this?”

“Fine, where is she?”

The room went silent. Noah looked at the sheriff. The sheriff looked at Noah. They both looked at Kelly.

“What do you mean ‘Where is she'?” Harker asked.

Kelly scowled. “When they didn't come back by dark, I came to town. That's how I heard what happened. Figured Ruth would be here mooning over him still. Maybe she's found some sense, after all, though I doubt it. She was always enamored of love. Where did you say she was?”

Kelly glanced at Harker, then Noah, then back again. He didn't seem to feel the tension in the room, didn't connect what they'd said with the situation at hand. Why was Noah surprised? The man had proved time and again that all he cared about was his thrice-damned legacy.

“I
didn't
say.” The sheriff's eyebrows drew together in the middle. “I thought she was with you.”

Noah went cold. He had a very bad feeling about this. Why? He couldn't say. She was most likely at a friend's house or the hotel or the store.

But she'd never mentioned a friend, what possible business could she have at the hotel, and she'd already gone to the store. Besides, Noah didn't think Ruth would have stayed in town and listened to the gossip that she was so much a part of.

“If she was with me,” Kelly pointed out, “then why would I be asking where she was?”

Harker ignored the question. “Where would she go if she was upset?”

To Noah. To Leon. To Tildy. Three people she had not gone to.

When Harker glanced at him, Noah saw that the sheriff had had the very same thought.

“I'll check the hotel. If she was at my parents', they'd have let me know.”

Helpless, Noah gripped the iron bars that kept him from running into the street and shouting her name. “Check the livery,” he suggested. “What happened to her horse and wagon?”

The door opened, and the deputy came in, holding a piece of paper in his hand.

“Barnett, go to the livery—”

“I was just there.”

“See if Miss Ruth—”

“Here.” He shoved the paper into Leon's hand. “Her horse came back to town. They found this in the wagon.”

Before the sheriff could read the note, Kelly snatched it away. “Ransom?” he asked, scanning the contents.

Noah held his breath. Would Kelly pay for the return of a daughter he didn't love with the things he valued so much? If he wouldn't, what was Noah going to do about it, locked in here for the rest of his life?

Kelly raised his head, confusion spreading over his face. “I don't understand.”

Leon curled his lip and took the paper back. He scanned the contents, then crossed the room and held the note out to Noah.

“It's for you.”

Chapter Thirteen

Billy Jo. I been watchin'. Got yer woman. I want the muney. You no where I'll be. D.

“Who the hell is
D?
” Harker demanded.

“Dooley.” Noah raised his gaze from the note to the sheriff. “One of my men. If he saw me with Ruth, he must have been in town with Hoxie.”

“Then he saw you get arrested. Why would he think you could bring him the money?”

“In Dooley's mind, that's my problem. I'm sure he doesn't care who brings the money as long as it's brought. But if someone he doesn't know comes along, I wouldn't give a bit for their chances of living past the exchange. Dooley's always been a little too fast on the draw.”

“I still don't understand,” Kelly interjected. “This Dooley kidnapped the daughter of one of the richest men in the state. Why would he ask for some piddling outlaw haul when he can demand ransom from me?”

Kelly's never-ending arrogance finally snapped Noah's control. “Because he has no idea
who
he's taken. To Dooley, she's mine. Even if he heard the name Kelly, he wouldn't know who she was.”

“Why?”

“Because I made sure my gang was full of followers, not leaders. That way they listened only to me, because they knew nothing else. I told them Kelly Creek was a hick town with nothing to recommend it.”

“What?” Kelly practically frothed at the mouth to hear his glorious legacy so described. “Kelly Creek is the best little town in Kansas.”

“Maybe it is. But I didn't want to rob it.”

“Why the hell not? My money's good enough to count but not to take?”

“Would you listen to yourself? Think, man! I didn't want to hold up your bank and discover Ruth behind a desk. She'd have known me with a bandanna over my face. Hell, she'd have known me with a sheet over my head.” Noah rubbed his eyes. “Just like I'd know her.”

“So I owe you for leaving my bank off your map, and here I thought we'd just been lucky.”

“Lucky?” Noah snorted. “There isn't any such thing.”

Kelly contemplated him for a long moment, then turned on his heel. “Sheriff, what do you plan to do about this?”

“Get her back, of course.”

Kelly nodded, “You do and she's yours.”

“I thought she was mine already,” Leon muttered, but Kelly had strode out the door.

The sheriff glanced at his deputy. “Follow him,” he said. “Make sure be goes home and doesn't stir up any more trouble.”

The deputy nodded and left.

“What kind of trouble would he stir up?”

“Knowing Robert, he'd stand in the middle of town and get up a posse of his own. Offer a reward to the man who brought Ruth back. Or offer Ruth to the man who brought her back.”

“But he just told you to get her back and gave her to you.”

“He doesn't trust anyone, remember? He'll do whatever he has to do to have his way. First I was the perfect son, then you, now me. I'm dizzy from trying to keep up. If he didn't own most of this town . . .” The sheriff shook his head.

“What?”

“I don't know. The man's a pain in my behind,” Harker picked up a piece of paper and a pencil from his desk and handed them to Noah.

“What's this for?” Noah asked.

“The note said you'd know where he was. Draw me a map.”

“Can't do that.” Noah handed the paper back.

“Do you want her to die?” Harker exploded. “Or do you think she's dead already? Dead or worse.”

Noah peered at the sheriff. His face was white, his mouth tight and strained. Harker looked out-and-out terrified that something had happened to Ruth. Since Noah felt the same, he took pity on the man.

“She's fine because Dooley thinks she's mine. He won't touch her or hurt her as long as he thinks I'm coming.”

Harker narrowed his eyes. “But if we hang you, he'll kill her because you're no longer a threat.”

“Hadn't thought of that.”

“Oh, no? Maybe you had this planned all along. Maybe this has always been your way out.”

“I'd never use Ruth to save my life.”

“So you say.”

“So I know.”

“If you want to save her, tell me where she is.”

“I can tell you, but you'll only wind up dead, and Ruth along with you.”

The certainty in Noah's eyes, in his voice, must have reached the sheriff, because he paused and considered. “Explain.”

“Did you ever wonder why the Kansas Gang has lasted this long?”

“What lawman hasn't?”

Noah smiled. “Part of it is me. I don't take any shit. Toe the line, follow my orders—”

“Or die?”

Noah's smile faded to a scowl. “Or get out. Why would I take such pains to
keep
regular folks alive, then shoot my own men if they made me mad?”

“I don't know. Why?”

Noah really wished he wasn't behind bars. He'd like to throttle the sarcasm out of the sheriff, right before he rode off to rescue Ruth.

“I
wouldn't.
I ran a tight ship. I knew what I was doing. Part of my job was having the ultimate hideaway. That's why no one ever found us.”

“And if they had, you'd have killed 'em.”

“Do you ever think about anything else other than killing people?”

Harker rolled his eyes. “Go on.”

“If you go into the hideout, Dooley
will
shoot you.”

“What if I shout you sent me? What if I say I have the money?”

“He's been watching. He knows you're the sheriff.”

“I'll send someone else.”

“Do you trust anyone else with Ruth's life? I don't.”

Harker cursed and kicked his desk chair. “Well, hell, what am I going to do, then?”

“Let me go in.”

The sheriff's eyes flicked to Noah, considering for several ticks of the clock. “I don't think so. You take me for a fool? You'll grab her and be gone.”

“Think about that. I didn't let her know, Christmas after Christmas, that I was alive and in Kelly Creek because I didn't want to subject her to the life I had to lead. If I didn't take her with me when I could still move about unrecognized, why would I take her now to share a life on the run?”

“Because you want her whatever the cost?”

“No. I want her safe, just as you do.”

Noah held the sheriff's gaze until the man dipped his head in acknowledgment of the truth. They might be on opposite ends of the law, opposite sides of the bars, but they had the most important thing in common, their love of Ruth.

“I'll go in, make the exchange, bring her out. You, me, and Ruth come back to Kelly Creek, and the posse can take care of Dooley.”

The sheriff scowled. “I thought one of the first rules of being an outlaw was never betray a pal.”

“No, the first rule is never kidnap the leader's woman.”

Harker's lips twitched. “He's in trouble now.”

The hope that had burned to ash in Noah's heart the moment he'd seen Hoxie rekindled at the sheriff's words. “Why's that?”

“Because the first rule of being a lawman is exactly the same thing.” The sheriff held out his hand. “Let's go get Ruth.”

Noah took it. “I'm right behind you, as soon as you unlock the door.”

***

Ruth had never considered herself a weak woman. By the time night fell all around them, she'd reconsidered that opinion.

She might have ridden Annabelle for hours, but riding for pleasure was not the same as riding hell-bent for the Missouri border. And riding your own horse, alone, was certainly a lot more comfortable than sharing one.

Ruth ached in places she'd never known she had. She was bone-tired, cold, and hungry. But Dooley showed no sign of stopping.

She didn't want to ask him to. Because as long as they were riding, that was all they were doing. She'd been sitting in the curve of his legs long enough to know that Dooley kind of liked her, and she didn't want to make camp and discover just how much.

Her fury had given way to fear, which contributed to her exhaustion. She was stronger than she looked? Ha! It was easy to be strong when you didn't have to prove it with your life on the line.

Dooley reined in his horse. Ruth tensed, the movement sending shards of pain through her shoulders, back, and legs. She moaned, then bit off the sound. Best not to show weakness around an animal. While Dooley hadn't hurt her—yet—Ruth had seen the animal lurking in his eyes.

“W-what's the matter,” she managed.

“Almost there.”

“Where?”

“Wouldn't you like to know? But you can't. Because then I'd have to kill you.”

He laughed his annoying laugh, and Ruth shuddered, not only from the chill wind that iced her face but from his easy way with the word kill. Without warning, Dooley blindfolded her, cuffing her along the side of the head when she struggled against the darkness.

“Stop that or you'll fall and hurt yourself. Then I'll be in hot water. You don't have to be afraid. I won't touch you. I'm not a fool. You're Billy Jo's, which means no nothin' for me with you.”

Whenever he called Noah Billy Jo, she wanted to scream for him to stop. The name only reminded her of all that she'd dreamed of and all that had been a lie. But screaming would change nothing. Because what was important could not be changed.

Noah wasn't who she thought he was—not in name or in truth. She was the fool, and now she would pay for it. If not with her innocence, perhaps with her life, certainly with any chance of happiness.

“You can't see where the hideout is,” Dooley continued as the horse moved forward. “One of Billy Jo's rules, and it's a good one. Most of his are. He's clever, is Billy Jo. Every one of our robberies was his plan.”

“Wonderful,” Ruth muttered.

Noah couldn't use his intelligence for worthwhile pursuits; he had to steal. She could understand stealing to eat. But year upon year of thieving, killing, running, and hiding? That was beyond her understanding—or her forgiveness.

A branch slapped her knee; another smacked her cheek—a sharp sting; then a trickle of warmth oozed down her face before the blood froze to her skin.

Nevertheless, the air felt warmer here, as if they were surrounded by trees and shrubs. No longer in Kansas now, she was sure, but the Missouri bush. No wonder no one had ever discovered the hideout of the Kansas Gang.

Ruth had heard tales of the border wars both from Leon and others. The Civil War had been fought as bitterly between Kansas and Missouri as between the North and the South. Kansas had earned the highest military death rate of any state in the Union. The hatreds of decades were not laid to rest at the time of Appomattox but fostered until they festered like a feud between families.

Once the war ended and the legal killing was over, a lot of bushwhackers went to Texas, where troublemakers seemed to go, but some stayed and joined up with Jesse, Frank, and Cole, then stirred up trouble all over the Midwest. They said it was to keep the Confederacy alive, to take back what was taken from them, but twelve years after the war had ended, that excuse was wearing thin.

The James boys were still on the loose, even though most of the Youngers had run afoul of the citizenry and the law in Northfield, Minnesota, just as the Kansas Gang had been shot up in Danville.

Despite what she'd heard and seen, Ruth still had a hard time equating Noah with Jesse. Maybe if she started to think of Noah as Billy Jo, she'd have more luck. What she really needed to do was stop thinking of Noah with any sort of fondness. He was not the man she loved. The man she loved did not exist except in her silly, girlish heart.

Had he ever cared about her? Or had he only cared about her father's legacy? She remembered his touch, her passion, his need. He
had
wanted her body. But wanting that was a far cry from wanting her. Ruth knew that much.

Noah was not her hero; never had been, never would be. Because an outlaw wasn't a good man. That's why they were called outlaws.

The night pressed upon her, almost a physical weight, since she could see nothing past the blindfold. Animals rustled across the snow, amid the brush. Birds started up as Dooley's horse plodded along. Then all went silent.

Finally, Ruth could bear the silence no more. “Do you think Noah will come?”

“You'd best hope so.”

“You'll kill me if he doesn't?”

“I'm not sure what I'll do. Can't take you with me. Can't let you go.”

“Why can't you let me go?”

“If I don't do what I say, no one will ever believe any threat I make.”

“I won't tell.”

“No, you won't.”

Desperate, Ruth cried, “But if you kill me, you'll be a murderer.”

“Already am. They can't hang me twice, now, can they?”

“Wonderful,” Ruth repeated. “Noah's in jail. You did see that much.”

“No jail ever held Billy Jo.”

“He's been in jail?”

“Not that I know of.”

Ruth stopped questioning Dooley. His answers made her head ache. How could Noah surround himself with such half-wits and get anything done? Maybe because he was clever. Clever like a fox in a henhouse. He'd certainly had her fooled.

The horse stopped. Dooley yanked the blindfold from Ruth's eyes. She blinked as the moon, full and shining silver, illuminated a clearing. The sweetest little cabin she'd ever seen was tucked against a towering hill of stone.

“Nice place.”

“You haven't seen the best part yet.”

Dooley jumped down and dragged her with him. Ruth's legs wouldn't support her after a day in the saddle, and she sank all the way to the ground when Dooley let her go. He strode toward the house. His horse followed him right inside. Now that was taking friendship a little bit too far.

Ruth's gaze spanned the clearing. Should she run? Could she run? Her legs weren't what they used to be.