Outlaw for Christmas (9781101573020) (17 page)

But her glance revealed that there was nowhere to go. All around the house the brush was as thick as the grasshoppers had been atop the garden in 1874.

The insects had arrived in the morning, the sun catching their wings and making the horde appear like a glistening cloud. They'd dropped from the sky like enormous snowflakes, blanketing everything in their path and eating until the land was sparse and dead.

Trees, grass, gardens—no living plant escaped. Then they'd turned their voracious appetites to cloth and wood and leather. Folks in Kansas had taken to calling 1874 the Grasshopper Year, and no one who had seen that year would ever forget the horror of it.

Ruth shivered at the memory. If she ran off into the brush, there'd be nothing left of her, just as there'd been nothing left of the garden, or much else, after the grasshoppers flew away.

Suddenly, Dooley hauled her upright, tugging on her arm with such force, she gasped. “Come on,” he muttered. “I don't know how far behind us he is.”

His gaze skittered around the clearing, as if he expected Noah to emerge at any second. Ruth found herself holding her breath, waiting, too, even hoping, which was just plain silly.

Right now she wasn't sure if she still loved Noah or would hate him forever. But one thing she was certain of: Noah wasn't getting out of the Kelly Creek jail. Leon would see to that.

She allowed Dooley to half-lead, half-drag, her over the frozen ground to the cabin. The inside was as cold as the outside—rough but homey. The kind of place Ruth had imagined living with Noah someday.

Dooley continued to tug her across the floor. Ruth dug in her heels. He might have said he wouldn't touch her, but she didn't fully believe him. She'd learned one thing today: Never trust an outlaw.

“Come on,” he urged. “We need to get inside.”

“We
are
inside.”

“No,
inside.
”

With a grin that revealed his oh, so attractive teeth, Dooley went to the back door.

Ruth frowned. There was something about that door that just wasn't right. Not only was it larger than most doors, but where would a back door go when the cabin was flush against a rock face? And where was the horse?

Curious, she hurried forward, so that when Dooley flung open the door, a burst of warmth from the darkness stirred her hair. She leaned forward, trying to see what lay beyond.

Dooley put his arm out. “Careful. You'll fall in.”

“Where?”

“Inside,” he repeated like the half-wit he was.

“Inside what?”

He pulled a lantern from the blackness and fiddled with lighting it. As the dim glow spread across his pale face, Dooley lifted the light and beckoned. “I'll show you.”

Then he disappeared inside.

***

Leon wanted to get out of town before anyone figured out what he was up to. He was doing the only thing that he could to save Ruth, and Ruth was what was important. But taking a notorious outlaw leader from the jail and wandering about the prairie with him, even if he was handcuffed, wasn't the brightest thing a lawman had ever done.

Not that he owed anyone an explanation. He was the sheriff, for crying out loud. Still, he sneaked out before the sun rose, not even telling Barnett where he was going. If the boy didn't know, he couldn't tell.

The way tempers were running, Leon wouldn't put it past the men of the town to organize a vigilante committee and come after them. Folks were mighty angry at being duped by an outlaw. They felt foolish for liking Noah, for trusting him, for welcoming him into their community, and when people felt foolish, they got snake mean.

“Where's the posse?” Noah's voice sounded loud in the still, icy darkness that preceded dawn.

This time always made Leon lonely. Death loomed near at that darkest hour, when it was colder than cold and even when you weren't alone, you were.

“They're meeting us at dusk, near the abandoned trading post on the border.”

“You don't trust anyone from town?”

Leon looked at Noah, eyebrows raised. “Do you?”

“Good point.”

“How far to the money?”

Noah's pale blue eyes scanned the horizon. “Few miles.”

Silence descended. Neither of them spoke until a ramshackle farmhouse appeared beneath the blue-gray sky. Walker headed right for it.

“You hid the money on someone's farm?”

“Nope.”

Leon squinted. There was a horse in the corral and smoke puffed from the chimney. The place wasn't deserted.

He drew his gun. The sound of the hammer pulling back cracked across the open prairie like a shot. “Walker, don't make me kill you.”

Noah kept riding. “Relax, Leon. This will only take a minute.”

Panic lit in Leon's belly. What if this was a trap and he'd walked right into it? He'd believed Walker was intent on saving Ruth, but the man had duped the entire town into thinking him harmless; maybe he'd been lying about love, too.

“Where's Ruth?” Leon demanded. “If something happens to you, I need to find her.”

“You'll never find her without me.” Noah threw a glance over his shoulder. “Trust me.”

“Not today.”

Noah snorted, a sound resembling a laugh, and Leon discovered he was smiling, too. Then the door to the cabin creaked open, and the barrel of a rifle poked out.

“Son of a—” Leon moved the aim of his pistol from the center of Noah's back toward the door.

“No!” Noah shifted his horse between Leon and the house. “It's me, Jonah!”

“Billy Jo?”

The rifle disappeared, and a man near the same age as the two of them limped onto the porch. How Leon came to that conclusion about Jonah's age, he later couldn't say, since the man's hair was silver and gold, his face severely lined, and his movements slow and pained.

“Where have you been?” he demanded. “Carol thought you were dead. You scared her half to death last time with all the blood.”

“Blood?” Leon asked.

Jonah flicked a glance Leon's way. The expression in his eyes was old, too. The only thing about the man that spoke of youth was his voice, deep and sure, and his hands, equally sure, upon the rifle.

“Who's he?”

“Harker,” Noah said shortly. “I need the money, Jonah.”

“Right where you left it. Come on in.” He disappeared inside the cabin, and Leon heard him murmuring to someone, a woman from the sound of the answer. Leon and Noah dismounted.

“You can put up your gun,” Noah said. “There's just Jonah, his wife, and their kids.”

Leon shrugged and holstered his pistol. The man would have shot him already if he meant to. “Who is he?”

“A friend.”

Noah entered the cabin, with Leon right behind him. Jonah waited just inside the doorway. He took one look at the handcuffs on Noah's wrists and pressed his rifle to Leon's neck. Leon froze.

“Let him go, lawman.”

Noah sighed. “Let it be, Jonah.”

“You know I'd kill to save you, Billy Jo, just like you did for me.”

Noah reached out with his bound hands and gently removed the barrel of the rifle from Leon's neck. Leon started breathing again, “I know you would. But I'm okay. I need the money, and then we'll be going.”

“Jonah, do what he says.” A large-boned, dark-haired woman, whom Leon had not noticed while his life was on the line, strode forward with a saddlebag. She handed it to Noah.

“Thanks, Carol. I'm afraid I need to take it all with me.”

Her gaze flicked to Leon, then away. “I kind of thought that you might. We'll be all right. The crops were good this year. No grasshoppers or hail, no drought.” She patted Noah's beard-roughened cheek. “You okay?”

“I'll be fine.” Noah held out the bags, and Leon took them.

The woman caught at Noah's hands when they were free. “I meant the bullet wound.”

“I'm alive, aren't I?” He pulled free.

“I didn't think you would be for long.”

“Neither did I.”

“So someone helped you?”

Noah grunted, shrugged, and turned to leave. Leon stepped in his way. “You were wounded in the robbery?”

“What of it?”

“Who helped you?”

Their eyes met. “Who do you think?”

Leon cursed. “Idiot! You went to Ruth?”

“I didn't mean to.”

“They why did you?”

“Do we have to talk about this now?”

“Yes. Where were you while you healed? Not at Kelly's, I'm sure.”

“The farmhouse across the river.”

“She lied for you? Hid you? How could you have put her in danger like that? You said that you loved her.”

Noah's shoulders slumped. “It was Christmas Eve. I thought I was dying. I wanted to see her. I wasn't going to let her see me.”

“Then what happened?”

“I don't know.” Noah lifted his bound hands, then let them fall again. “I plead delirium.”

“Fool.”

“You'll get no argument from me.”

Jonah and his wife stood silently by, glancing back and forth between the two of them. From the bedroom drifted the cry of a baby, and Carol disappeared. Jonah and his rifle stayed right where they were. Leon ignored him. He was on the trail of the truth, and he wasn't going to stop now.

“How did you explain a bullet wound to Ruth?”

“I told her the truth. I had no idea who shot me.

“And she believed that?”

“She's not as suspicious or as nosy as you are, Sheriff.”

“That's because she hasn't been around men like you. Now, because of you, she's kidnapped and dragged God knows where.”

“You don't have to remind me. I know this is my fault.”

The despair in Noah's voice struck a cord within Leon, and he didn't like feeling sorry for an outlaw. “Well, just so you know,” he said, even though it was petty.

“Who's Ruth?” Jonah asked.

“I don't have time to explain right now,” Noah said.

“You aren't going to have time to explain later, either.”

Noah shot Leon a dirty look. Jonah started stroking his blasted rifle. Leon wanted to smack himself in the head. Why was he being such a bastard?

He loved Ruth. He was the man she should marry. She deserved a safe life in her hometown. Leon had all these things in his grasp. He should be happy. But he wasn't, and he didn't know why, which only made him mean.

“Let's go,” he snapped. “We got places to be.”

“I don't like how you talk to him, mister.” Jonah struggled forward to put himself between Leon and Noah. The man's leg was so twisted, he could barely walk. Leon wondered idly how he managed to farm.

“It's okay, Jonah.”

“No, it ain't.” He poked the barrel of his rifle against Leon's chest. “This man saved my life. I owe him. I'd do anything for him.”

“Jonah—”

“He should know he's taking a good man off this earth, not a bad one, as I'm sure he thinks.”

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does to me. He's gonna learn how a boy becomes an outlaw. Then maybe he won't be so holier-than-thou.” Jonah glared at Leon with all the ferocity of a mama bear protecting her cub.

“I'm listening,” Leon said. “You don't have to poke me with your gun anymore.”

Jonah lowered the rifle, but he didn't put it away. Instead, he leaned on it like a crutch and limped to the kitchen table, where he fell into a chair with a groan.

“As you can see, my leg's a mess. But I'd be a lot worse off if it wasn't for Billy Jo.”

“Were you in the Kansas Gang?”

Jonah scowled. “You want to hear this or not?”

“Oh, I do.”

“Then shut up. I'm not
your
prisoner.” Jonah rubbed his hip and stared at the tip of his boot as if he were peering into the past. “We were both slaves for Simon Lane.”

Leon glanced at Noah. Appearing extremely uncomfortable, he shrugged and contemplated his boot as well.

Jonah continued. “The man was mean as a stuck boar. But meaner still was his brother. The two of them would fight whenever they saw each other, and one day Simon wound up dead at the end of their visit.”

“Lane's brother shot him?”

Jonah lifted his gaze. “Isn't that what I said?”

Leon looked to Noah again. If that was true, Noah hadn't killed Lane. What Leon had accused him of in front of Ruth was untrue. Again he felt that niggling sense of unease but pushed it away. If Walker hadn't killed Lane, he
had
killed others. Leon had no reason to feel bad for accusing him of murder, albeit of the wrong man.

“Why didn't you two come forward and say what happened to Lane? You just left him dead in the yard and took off?”

“He was past minding, and we didn't take off Lane's brother took us along with him.” Jonah raised his eyebrows. “He was the man who started the Kansas Gang.”

“The man Walker killed.”

Jonah scowled and started stroking his precious rifle again. “You have a problem keeping your trap shut, don't ya, Billy Jo?”

“I told him I killed the outlaw leader.” Noah moved to the window and peered out. “That isn't news.”

“I'm sure it's news as to why.”

“He killed the man to be the boss,” Leon said.

No. He killed him to save my life.” Jonah rubbed his hip again. “Simon Lane was mean. Charlie Lane was vicious. He crippled me. Would have killed me if it hadn't been for Billy Jo. Now most men would say I'd have been better off dead, since I can barely get about. But Billy Jo wouldn't let me feel sorry for myself. He hired me to cook for the men. Then when I met Carol, he bought us this place.”

“Why?”

Jonah caught and held Leon's gaze. “Because he understood how it was to be alone in this world with no choices. Men like you think men like us choose this life we lead. But most times it chooses us.”