The Outlaw (18 page)

* * * *

She watched him disappear between the
buildings and the ache in her chest increased until she thought it
would choke her. More tears burned behind her eyes and she refused
to let them come. She was through crying over that man. Tired of
thinking he wanted her for more than a roll in the hay. She gave
him credit for realizing something was upsetting her but she’d die
before she told him what it was. How could she look him in the face
and tell him she was upset because he didn’t want her forever? That
she’d fallen in love with him and was upset because he didn’t love
her back. That it tore her heart out to think she was leaving and
he wasn’t even going to try to stop her.

That never hearing him call her sweetheart
again, or hearing her name uttered past his lips, would be an agony
she’d never be able to live with.

The pain in her chest grew until her entire
body felt weak with it. Her stomach revolted, her gut twisting
until she thought she’d be sick and almost gave into the tears
threatening to fall when a sound alerted her she wasn’t alone. She
looked up and saw a woman enter the clearing.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize someone was
here.”

Sarah gave her best impersonation of a smile
and stood. “I was just leaving.

The woman stared at her, a warm sympathetic
smile on her face. “Is everything all right? You look a bit…
unwell.”

If she only knew. Sarah smiled and nodded.
“I’m fine. It’s been a very tiring day.”

“Oh, then by all means, stay.” She pointed at
the bench, indicating her to sit back down. “My husband made the
bench for me but I don’t mind sharing it. Everyone uses it.” She
glanced at the trees, smiling as a few leaves tumbled to the
ground. “It’s quite peaceful here, don’t you think?”

Sarah didn’t answer but sat back down. The
woman was petite and from the looks of her, and her rounded belly,
expecting.

The woman crossed the distance between them
and motioned to the bench. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” Sarah said, sliding down the
bench.

She sat, sighing once situated. “My husband
and I were married here.” She pointed in the direction of the trees
and Sarah smiled to be polite. “Seems like only yesterday but too
much has happened for it to have been.” She laughed and shook her
head, her eyes getting a far off look as if she were remembering.
“That has to be the most ornery man god put on this earth.”

Sarah laughed. “I doubt it. The man with that
distinction just left.”

“Oh, so I was right to assume your troubles
were related to a man.” She gave a small chuckle. “Of course, when
a woman has a problem, nine times out of ten, its a man’s fault,
isn’t it?”

“Yes. Always.”

They sat in comfortable silence for long
moments before the woman turned to look at her. “I’m Abigail, by
the way.”

“Oh,” Sarah laughed. “Sarah.”

“It’s nice to meet you Sarah. I don’t think
I’ve seen you around town before.”

Sarah shook her head. “You haven’t and I’m
not staying. I’ll be leaving on the stagecoach tomorrow.”

Abigail’s smile dimmed. “What a shame.
There’s so few women here I can talk to. Well, that I want to talk
to.” She laughed and looked over her shoulder as if someone would
overhear her. “The town is small, as you’ve noticed, and only a few
women live within walking distance. Where are you from?”

Sarah told Abigail of her hometown but was
hesitant about telling her how she ended up here. As much as Colt
hurt her she didn’t want him arrested. He lived here and she had no
idea of his reputation amongst the townsfolk. If they weren’t aware
he was an outlaw, she certainly didn’t want to be the one who clue
them in.

Thinking of outlaws, Sarah remembered the
others, Virgil and his gang who were, as far as she knew, still
after them. She wondered if they’d make it this far and a new fear
bloomed. What if they did and they found Colt? He was home and
probably hadn’t thought a thing about them. Most people felt safe
in their own backyard. He probably would to.

She stood, looking back down at Abigail. “I
remembered something I need to do. If you’ll excuse me?”

“Oh, most certainly. It was very nice to meet
you, Sarah.”

“You too.” She gave the woman one last look
before starting back toward the buildings.

When she reached the street, she looked for
Colt. Not seeing him, she searched the buildings until she found
the one she was looking for and hurried toward it, ducking inside
the door before shutting it behind her.

The marshal appeared to be in his
mid-thirties, handsome in a rugged way, and smiled at her as he
lowered his feet from the corner of his desk. “Afternoon. What can
I do for you?”

Sarah tried not to grimace at the stench
inside the building and smiled, giving him a slight nod of her
head. “I wanted to let you know there is a gang of outlaws probably
headed this way. Eight of them, to be exact.”

That earned
her a raised eyebrow before he nodded his head to the vacant chair
in front of his desk. “Have a seat, Ms.

?”

“Hartford,” Sarah said. “Sarah Hartford.”

“All right, Ms. Hartford. Tell me what you
know about these outlaws and why you think they’re coming this
way?”

She told him everything she could remember
about the bank robbery, being kidnapped and then rescued, being
chased over two territories to end up here, but left Colt’s name
out of it. When her tale was finished, he reached into a drawer in
his desk, pulling out a stack of papers.

“Have a look at these and tell me if you
recognize any of the men you say are after you.”

The wanted papers were old, some brittle
around the edges and falling apart. To her disappointment, not one
of the outlaws she remembered resembled anyone on the posters. She
sighed and laid them back on his desk. “No, no one looks
familiar.”

“All right.” He took the papers, tucking them
back into his desk before turning to face her. “Do you know any of
their names, perhaps? Hear anything that might help me identify
them?

“I only know that one of them is named
Virgil. I never got names on the others but I think US Marshals
were about to apprehend them but something went wrong.”

A peculiar look crossed his face but vanished
too quickly for her to be sure. He smiled at her and stood. “I’ll
send a wire over to sheriff Bowers in Missoula and see if he’s
heard anything.” He rounded the desk and stopped. “Where can I find
you if I have more questions?”

Sarah stood and started for the door. “I’ll
be at the hotel until tomorrow. I’m leaving on the stagecoach once
it comes in.”

The marshal nodded and told her to have a
safe trip and Sarah left feeling a little better. At least if those
outlaws did show up, Colt may actually have a chance to come out of
the meeting alive. She wasn’t fool enough to believe they didn’t
want him dead and as much as her heart ached to think of him,
knowing he was still alive, annoying the hell out of someone, she
could rest easy knowing she’d done all she could.

* * * *

Colt saw her enter the hotel and stepped out
from his hiding place. He rounded the corner, opening the door to
the building and waited for his eyes to adjust.

When Morgan saw him, his brother walked
around his desk and sat down. “Funny. When I heard outlaw, I
automatically thought of you, and here you are. Is that a
coincidence or not, Colt?”

“What? No welcome home, brother? No, I missed
you?”

Morgan laughed and folded his hands behind
his head. “Just had a lady in here claiming to be kidnapped by
outlaws. Any idea what she’s talking about?”

Colt grinned and grabbed the vacant chair,
turning it to straddle the seat. “Of course I know. I’m the one who
took her from them.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Morgan laughed and
gave him an amused look. “Wouldn’t be the fact that she was young,
blonde and quite fetching to look at that prompted you to take her
from outlaws, would it?”

“No, although if I’m honest, the thought of
kidnapping her myself from that bank did cross my mind. Whereas I
had sense enough not to, Virgil didn’t.”

“So her stories true, then?”

“Probably. What exactly did she say?”

Colt listened to Morgan with half an ear. He
knew what Sarah’s story would be but was a bit shocked she left his
name out of it. When he saw her walk toward the jail and enter, he
was almost positive she’d gone to turn him in, just like she’d said
she was going to do. Knowing she hadn’t and had even gone to the
trouble of not mentioning his name, made him rethink the
possibility that she hated him.

After getting her a hotel room and buying a
few provisions at the mercantile he was ready to put Willow Creek
behind him. A quick “hello and goodbye,” to Morgan and he would
head back to the ranch, say his goodbyes there and be gone before
sunset. Now, being reminded of Virgil and the others, Colt had
second thoughts. What if they did come this way? What if they
stayed? There wasn’t much in Willow Creek but it was enough for
Virgil and his gang to cause a good fuss. Knowing Morgan would be
the one to deal with them left a bad taste in his mouth. Knowing
Virgil, the old bastard was already there, waiting.

Morgan tapped the top of the desk with his
knuckles. “Colt? You listening to me?”

Colt focused his gaze and blinked.
“Yeah.”

“Really?” Morgan lifted an eyebrow. “Cause I
just asked you what your relationship is with Ms. Hartford and
you’ve yet to answer.”

He was tired, all of a sudden, and blew out a
long breath before wiping a hand over his face. “It’s
complicated.”

“How so?”

“She hates me.”

Morgan laughed. “Well that’s nothing unusual.
Most women who know you do.”

“Very funny.” Colt stood and turned toward
the door. “I’ll be leaving soon. Tell that new wife of yours I’m
sorry I missed her.”

The legs of the chair scraped across the
floor when Morgan stood. “You’re not leaving yet, little brother.
Not until I find out more about this gang of outlaws you led
here.”

Colt wanted to argue but knew he couldn’t.
Morgan had to know what to look for in case Virgil did show up and
it was up to him to provide him with the details. Sarah was leaving
and even though the thought of it caused him to want to slam his
fist into a wall until the pain in his chest went away, he had no
choice but to wait and see that she was safe. He would wait until
she was on that stagecoach before he stepped one foot out of town.
If he was lucky, he wouldn’t feel compelled to follow her.

Chapter Thirteen

The light shining into the window was what
woke her. Sarah blinked and waited for her eyes to adjust. The room
was still dark but flashes of red streaked across the walls. She
sat up and looked around the room, puzzled.

Standing, she pushed her hair away from her
face and looked out the curtained window. Fire. Her eyes widened as
she saw it, watched the flames lick the sky like monstrous tongues
of a beast lashing out.

No one was in the street, not an outcry from
anyone and she realized, no one knew the marshal’s office was
burning.

She turned and ran for the door, fumbled with
the lock and tried to get the rusty latch to open. Her eyes burned
and she coughed. It was then she realized the door felt warm. Too
warm. Backing up, she looked at the doorframe and noticed the light
around it. It was too bright to be a lamp. Fear skated up her spine
and she turned back to the window, running to it before trying to
lift its heavy frame.

There were people in the street now, some
shouting and running, and flames were now shooting from the
Mercantile shop across the street as well. Someone had set fire to
the town.

The sound of a gun being fired repeatedly
caused her to jump, the noise startling her, and Sarah tried the
window again. It was either nailed shut or it wasn’t meant to be
opened. Panic swept through her as she turned back to the door. It
was her only way out.

Long minutes of fumbling with the lock with
shaky hands and the bolt slid away. The heat was still there as she
laid her palm against the door and fear of what lay on the other
side made her pause. If the hotel was on fire… She let the thought
rattle inside her head before pushing the fear away. She had to get
out of the room. She had to know.

Pulling the door open, the light flooded in.
The smoke lay heavy near the floor and she coughed again before
sticking her head out into the hall. Others were looking out their
doors, their voices rising as the sound of the flames danced along
the corridor.

A man ran toward her, his face drained of
color. “The stairs are on fire. We can’t get out that way.”

Her worst fear had just been realized. She
was in a burning building, on the second floor, with no way
out.