The Outlaw Bride (6 page)

“That’s what I thought you had in mind,” Will said. He turned to Josie. “Just so you know, I’m not going to let that happen. Arresting him may be as necessary to save his life as your doctoring.”

Josie could only nod.

When Wash was firmly posted outside the door to Josie’s room, Will finally left, taking his posse with him.

Josie walked back to her room, opened the door, and leaned against it. “All right, Mr. Callahan, I know you didn’t pass out. You can open your eyes now.”

He did. “Why’d you make up that cock-and-bull story about prosecuting them for murder if I died? I didn’t ask for your help.”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s the lawyer in me—anything to save a client.”

“You really are an attorney?”

“I am. But saving you will cost you, and I could use a big fat fee.”

“I’m broke, remember. And now we’re going to lose the ranch and what few cows we have left. We’re pretty well wiped out.”

“What happened to your herd?”

“Our cows caught some kind of fever from a Mexican herd passing through last spring. Ben had read about some cows being bred in England to resist the fever. He thought if we brought in some new, stronger stock, we’d be better off.”

“Go on,” Josie said.

“A group of us pooled together all our money, jewels, and anything else we could come up with to pay for them.”

“But you didn’t coerce the others into making the deal, did you?”

“Ben and I didn’t talk them into anything. I’ll admit that I was worried about the risk, but the rest of the ranchers didn’t think twice. Too bad. Now it’s all gone. We’ve lost the chance to buy new cattle and we’ll probably lose our ranches. And Ben’s missing.”

“Callahan, who shot you?”

“Never saw a face. They ambushed us. I was too busy turning my back on trouble to get a good look.”

She let out a deep breath. “And what did you intend to do when you reached Laramie?”

“Pay for the cattle and drive them back to Sharpsburg.”

“And then what?”

“What do you mean? Each rancher got his share and we’d eventually breed cattle that resisted the fever.”

“So everyone stood to lose if the money disappeared?”

“
Lose
is putting it mildly. Even with the cattle, we lose. Rebuilding our herds will take a year. We all have mortgages due in the fall.”

One of the ranchers had mentioned it earlier. Now Callahan had just given Ben a motive for riding off with the money. “What do you think happened to your brother?”

Callahan let out a ragged sigh. “I don’t know. I thought I held them off long enough for Ben to get away. But he should have made it back to Laramie by now. Damn it to hell, Ben doesn’t know how to look after himself.” Callahan was becoming irate. “I swear, if Ben’s hurt, I’m going to find and kill the bastard who did it.”

Josie shivered. This man was serious. He could kill a man—and would.

“Still want to be my lawyer, Miss Miller?”

The shadows around Callahan had deepened, casting a smear of darkness across his face. His jet-black eyes seemed to penetrate that darkness, pinning her to this moment of truth. Josie’s heart raced. She could send Wash to catch Will. No, something told her not to. She was intrigued by this man. She needed to find out the truth herself.

In the silence, the kitchen door opened and slammed
closed. Lubina’s voice called out, “Miss Josie! I just saw the sheriff go. Where are you, Miss Josie?”

“I’m in here, Lubina.”

The housekeeper dashed into Josie’s bedroom, took one look at the naked man in her bed and fell to her knees. “Mother Mary, when I asked you to help Miss Josie be a woman, this es not what I prayed for.”

5
 

Later, as Josie was sitting with Callahan, he said, “You know, if the sheriff is right, you’re taking a big chance bringing me into your bedroom.”

“No, I’m not—you’re forgetting Lubina.”

“No, I haven’t forgotten.”

“Besides, I have a gun.”

“Well, between a gun and ‘the bulldog,’ I’m scared to death.” Callahan’s eyes flared in mock fear.

Josie gave him a hesitant smile. “Your fainting episode was very believable.”

“You’re the only thing between me and jail. I thought I’d make it easier on you.” There was a softness about his response that didn’t match the piercing cut of his eyes.

“I sure hope you’re a good attorney.”

“I am. Unfortunately, the people of Laramie aren’t as certain. The last woman attorney came into town to defend a horse thief. She walked up and down the street
with a bullwhip, looking for her client, but he took one look at her and hid. Nobody in town wanted to point him out to her, so she finally packed up and left.”

Callahan grimaced and cleared his throat. “Do you have a bullwhip?”

“No, but I know how to use one. You don’t have to worry, Mr. Callahan. I know the law and I rely on it. I don’t need a bullwhip to prove a point. The problem is, even after all this time, no one thinks that a woman can be a good lawyer.”

He let a few minutes of silence pass, mulling over what she’d just said. “There’s something I should tell you. I spent some time in a Kansas jail. During the war I rode with Quantrill’s Raiders for a time. When I left, they blamed me for holding up a bank. The money wasn’t found that time either, but I spent three years in prison for something I didn’t do.”

Josie’s heart sank. What kind of defense could she offer to a man who had already been convicted of stealing money?

“I’m thinking that you believe you can save everyone, Miss Josie. The more blackhearted, the better.”

“Blackhearted? No. Down and out with no place to turn, yes. Those are the ones I
want
to help,” she said.

“If being down and out is a requirement, you’ve got your work cut out for you. But,” he said softly, “don’t fool yourself, Josie Miller. You’ll just get hurt. I’m not worth it.”

“All my clients deserve help, Callahan.”

“Spoken like a true stubborn woman. Always right, even if she’s wrong.”

“Lubina was right,” Josie said. “You’re a devil, beyond saving. I don’t know why I didn’t let you die.”

“Because you don’t give up, Miss Josie. And neither
do I. But I am sorry if I offended you. I’m used to dealing with lower-class women.”

Josie stood and started for the door.

“
Please
don’t run out of here screaming,” Callahan said. “I don’t want that bulldog you call a housekeeper accusing me of having my way with you.”

“Let’s get this straight, Callahan.” She turned back. “Lower-class women don’t always choose to be lower class. I don’t scream, and you can be sure I don’t allow men to have their way with me.”

He gave her what was almost a smile and held his hands palms out. “Okay. But maybe a good man might take some of the starch out of your petticoats.”

“I don’t have any starch in my petticoats, and I made up my mind a long time ago that I’d eat sagebrush and prairie dogs before I’d let a man take care of me.”

“Can’t say I’ve eaten sagebrush and prairie dogs,” Callahan said, “but there’ve been times when either one would have been welcome.”

A moment hung between them, a connection that asked for more than either could promise. Finally he looked down at the new bedsheets beneath him.

“I can smell you on the pillow.”

She looked startled.

“You smell like flowers.”

“It’s soap and sunshine,” she said, backing away, her words echoing from one wall to another.

Callahan knew she was thinking about his head on her pillow. Josie did smell like soap and sunshine, and every time he drew in a breath, he was reminded of her.

“For whatever it’s worth, Josie, thank you. Not many people in my life have stood up for me. And I appreciate it.”

“It’s my job.”

“No, it’s your way.”

Josie felt his eyes on her. In spite of the connection between them, she’d tried to keep their relationship on a professional basis, but her patient wasn’t fooled.

She pursed her lips and walked back toward the window overlooking the mountains beyond their valley. It wouldn’t be long before he could move himself. She closed that thought out. “You don’t like my room?”

He took a long look around, studying the whitewashed adobe room with its round white fireplace in the corner and the Indian rugs on the floor. “Saw some adobe houses like this in New Mexico, built out of sand. Not many up here. Folks in Wyoming usually prefer wood.”

“There’s very little wood now. The trees were cut when they were building the Union Pacific Railroad. Then the farmers came in and now the sheep herders. Besides, Dr. Annie and Dan tend to use what’s plentiful and we have plenty of dirt out here.”

Callahan gave her a curious look. “Not many women would furnish a room this simply.”

“I like things simple and free. No restrictions. That’s why I like Wyoming,” Josie said, softly this time.

“Have you always lived here?”

“No, until I was ten, I lived … back east.”

“So did I,” he said. “Why’d you leave?”

“It’s complicated,” she admitted, wondering what he’d say if she told him how much they had in common. They’d accused him of being a thief. She’d
been
one. “Out here in this open land, I can think clearly.”

“I like Wyoming, too,” he agreed. “And you’re like this land, open and honest.”

“And plain.”

A silence ensued.

“I’ll leave you now. I’m going to make a new poultice, something to take care of your soreness,” Josie said, closing the door behind her.

There was nothing simple or plain about Josie Miller. Though she tried to hide her beauty behind her severe hairstyle and simple clothing, Josie Miller had a lot more to offer. He’d like to know just what that was.

It had been a long time since anyone had intrigued Sims Callahan. Too bad he wouldn’t be able to stick around. If he wanted to find Ben, he’d better concentrate on getting his strength back. He smiled. On the other hand, teaching Miss Josie Miller to be a woman might be just what the doctor ordered.

The lost man stumbled forward.

“Have to keep moving,” he mumbled over and over, his mouth so dry that the words felt like gravel. “Got to get back to—”

To what? To who? He didn’t know.

The sun overhead was as hot as the night before had been cold. The heat clung to his injured body like grasping hands. He fell to one knee, then pulled himself up and glanced around in confusion. His vision was blurred, but by squinting he could see shapes and colors. Nothing looked familiar. Where was he? What had happened to him?

The only thing that stayed with him was the constant ache in his head, a rolling pain that stole his thoughts and filled those spaces with darkness.

He thought that three days had passed since he’d opened his eyes only to look straight into the face of a lean, beaked bird that squawked in protest at his waking.

At one point he’d followed the trail of a small animal to find water, but that was at least a day ago. He’d stopped being hungry, driven by some invisible force that he couldn’t identify. He couldn’t remember what had happened, only that he was running. There was someone he had to find.

Over and over he stumbled, until he finally reached the low flat plains of the prairie. In his confusion he imagined he heard something—a thudding sound and a woman’s voice.

“Damn you! Damn you for dying on me!”

More sounds, then, “Well, this won’t stop me. I’ll get there by myself.”

He moved toward the voice. One painful breath after another. One step after the other. Then his foot came down on uneven ground, a rut. He stumbled and fell.

The next time he opened his eyes a woman was leaning over him. “Jacob?” she said softly. “Welcome back.”

In the clinic, Josie ground up seeds from the packet marked
wounds
and added it to the vinegar Lubina had supplied, turning the mixture into a dirty brown paste that smelled rotten. She didn’t know what it was. She didn’t even know for certain that it would help, but it was all she could find in her mother’s notebook that might work on Callahan’s injuries.

After she’d changed Callahan’s bandages, she’d find him something to wear. She seemed to remember that Dan’s mother sent him a fancy nightshirt last Christmas. It might be simpler to treat him nude, but she couldn’t do that anymore. There was no point in pretending that he was just another patient.

Josie gathered her other supplies—bandages, sulfur
powder, and her wound medication—and headed for her bedroom. She met Lubina on the way out.

“Did he eat?” Josie asked.

“Not much,” Lubina admitted. “He’s asleep now. He’s still not a well man. If it had been up to him, he would have eaten nothing. I told him that if he didn’t open his mouth, I’d stuff them beans somewhere he wouldn’t like.”

“Lubina!”

The housekeeper grinned. “I wouldn’t have, but he didn’t know that. I think
you’d
better not trust him. He’s a charmer, that devil.”

Josie shook her head and moved past the older woman. Lubina might call Callahan a devil, but it was clear that he was getting to her. Josie had best get done with her doctoring before he won her over completely.