The Outlaws: Rafe (37 page)

"You don't know anything, Angela bit out.
 
She lowered her head, unwilling to allow Dexter a glimpse of her heartbreak.

"Perhaps you're right, Angela.
 
Let's call a truce.
 
If Chandler still wants to marry you he's on his own.
 
I won't interfere.
 
I truly want to be of help to you."

Angela didn't believe him for a minute.
 
But perhaps, she thought sagely, she could use him to glean the truth from Chandler about his involvement in Brady Baxter's murder.
 
As greedy as she knew Dexter to be, she suspected he'd agree to anything to keep in her good graces.

"Very well, a truce," Angela offered.
 
"But with one condition."

"And that condition?" Dexter asked warily.

"I want no interference from you in any of my dealings, whether they concern the mine or Anson Chandler."

Though Rafe had left her, she still intended to seek the truth regarding Brady Baxter's murder.
 
Proving Rafe's innocence would restore her faith in her judgment, if nothing else.

Dexter's eyebrows shot upward.
 
"Are you saying you're seriously considering Chandler's suit?"

"I'm admitting nothing except that Anson and I are currently on friendly terms.
 
Or we were until Rafe abducted me."

"Gentry abducted you?" Dexter asked, his attention sharpening.

Angela could have bitten her tongue.
 
That's not what she'd meant to say at all.
 
"I misspoke," she amended.
 
"There was no force involved.
 
I left with Rafe of my own free will."

"I hope you've learned your lesson," Dexter maintained.
 
"Very well, I agree to your terms.
 
The stage leaves at two this afternoon.
 
I'll wait for you at the Wells Fargo office."

Angela saw no reason to delay her departure.
 
Nothing was holding her back.
 
Rafe was gone, but her anger and her faith in God would sustain her.

Angela left the hotel well in advance of the time she was to board the stage.
 
It took the better part of an hour to purchase a bag in which to pack her clothing, sell her horse and saddle and check out of the hotel.
 
The coach was already loading when she arrived at the Wells Fargo office.

"I feared you'd changed your mind," he said, apparently relieved to see her.

"No reason for me to stick around Dodge City," Angela replied as Dexter gave her bag to the driver to stash on top of the conveyance and handed her into the stagecoach.

 
Then they were off.
 
Squeezed between her stepfather and a traveling salesmen who kept eyeing her with undisguised appreciation, Angela didn't look forward to the long trip back to Canyon City.
 
As the horses jolted forward, she glanced out the back window.
 
She'd always remember Dodge City as a place where she'd experienced the gamut of emotions.
 
Happiness, sadness, betrayal, abandonment, anger.

Angela tried to envision a future without Rafe but all she saw was darkness.
 
The sunshine suddenly lost its sparkle and the clouds scudding across the sky turned gray and forbidding.

Rafe approached the city of Ordway with every intention of giving it a wide berth.
 
Unfortunately things didn't turn out the way he'd planned.
 
He had camped for the night some distance from the town and was feasting on rabbit he'd shot for his supper when he was surprised by unexpected visitors.

He heard them tramping in the woods and kept his hand poised on his gun as they approached.
 
He relaxed somewhat when they made no attempt to sneak up on him, leading him to believe his visitors meant him no harm.
 
He watched warily as two men rode to the edge of his camp and dismounted.

"Howdy, mister.
 
Mind if we share your fire?" one of the men asked.
 
"We have our own food."

"Damn! Rafe cursed beneath his breath.
 
Sheriff Tattersal and one of his deputies.
 
Of all the rotten luck.
 
He pulled his hat down over his eyes and turned his face into the shadows.

"Howdy.
 
Help yourself to the fire.
 
I'm kind of short on supplies right now so if you want coffee you'll have to make your own."

"I'm Sheriff Tattersal and this is Deputy Wilton.
 
We've plenty of supplies.
 
We've been trailing an outlaw who robbed a stage and killed a man.
 
Meet anyone on the road today?"

"Not a soul, sheriff," Rafe replied.

"Are you traveling east or west?"

"West.
 
Left Dodge City a couple a few days ago."

"Damn!
 
Looks like we're following a cold trail, Wilton.
 
I suppose we should return to Ordway and wait for another lead to come along."

"I can continue on if you like," Wilton offered.

"No, sooner or later we'll get him.
 
We've been gone too long as it is," Tattersal said.

The two lawmen unpacked their food, poured water from their canteens into a coffeepot, then sat down to wait for the coffee to perk.

Rafe didn't like the way the sheriff kept staring at him.
 
If he was recognized his goose was cooked.
 
In the thick silence, Rafe feared his thoughts were loud enough to be heard.
 
His suspicions were confirmed when Tattersal said, "Say, I know you.
 
You're Rafe Gentry."

Rafe's breath escaped in a loud whoosh.
 
His hand was halfway to his gun when Tattersal said, "I've been hoping you'd return one day so I could apologize for charging you with robbing the stage and murder.
 
I shouldn't have taken the word of a man I didn't know.
 
I should have realized Sister Angela wouldn't have lied.
 
But when Desmond Dexter came to town and told that wild story about you, I jumped to the wrong conclusion."

"Apologize?" Rafe repeated, dumbfounded.

"We caught one of the outlaws responsible for those murders five days ago.
 
He and his partner robbed another stage and killed the driver.
 
One of the outlaws was mortally wounded by the guard riding shotgun and was brought to town.
 
Before he died he confessed to helping his partner kill those five people in that earlier robbery.
 
I reckon he wanted to clear his conscience before meeting his maker."

"You mean I've been exonerated?" Rafe asked, disbelief turning to joy.
 
He wanted to jump up and shout but restrained himself.

"Completely," Tattersal said.
 
"I've already notified the proper authorities and recalled the wanted posters naming you a killer.
 
Of course," he added sternly, "there is still that bank robbery charge against you."

"Not any more," Rafe grinned.
 
"I've been vindicated and have the pardon to prove it."

Rafe reached into his pocket and handed Tattersal the pardon.
 
Tattersal read it and handed it back.

"Congratulations.
 
I hope you'll accept my apology.
 
I fear those false charges complicated your life."

Rafe gave a derisive snort.
 
Complicate his life?
 
It damn near ruined it.
 
He'd lost Angel because of those charges and the ones stemming from Brady Baxter's death.
 
But suddenly things were beginning to look up.

"Those false charges all but ruined my life," Rafe said with a bitterness he couldn't quite conceal.

"How is that pretty little Sister Angela?" Wilton asked.
 
"Did you leave her in Canyon City?"

"No, she's...er...in Dodge City.
 
She booked passage to Canyon City on the stage."

The sheriff and his deputy fell silent as they ate their food and drank their coffee.
 
Rafe helped himself to the coffee and sipped thoughtfully.

"You
did
say you were returning to Ordway tomorrow, didn't you?" Rafe asked.

"Sure did," Tattersal allowed.

"Might I accompany you?
 
Angela's stepfather claims we were never married.
 
Both Reverend Conrad's records and our marriage paper were destroyed.
 
No written proof of our marriage exists.
 
Since our wedding was witnessed by many of your townspeople, I thought you might help me round up signatures of those willing to swear that a marriage took place."

"My name will top the list," Tattersal said.

"And mine will be next," Wilton averred.

"I was going to ask you to ride with us, anyway," Tattersal revealed.
 
"You'll want something to prove you're no longer wanted for murder."

"I would welcome written proof that I've been cleared of murder charges," Rafe said, grateful to have yet another crime erased from his record.

 
Two down and one to go, Rafe thought.
 
For the first time in a very long time he had reason to be optimistic.
 
But he feared it was too late.
 
Angel was the only thing that really mattered to him and he'd been forced to hurt her, perhaps beyond repair.

Rafe rode to Ordway with Tattersal and Wilton the next day.
 
Tattersal wrote up an affidavit and Rafe spent most of the day obtaining signatures of people who had witnessed his marriage to Angel.
 
He didn't know why he bothered for she probably hated him, but for some reason it seemed important to prove, if only for his own benefit, that he and Angel had a legal marriage.

 
There was another reason Rafe needed to prove he and Angel were husband and wife, one he preferred not to dwell upon but could be vitally important.
 
Should Angel be carrying his child, no one could question its legitimacy if a legal marriage was substantiated.

The following day Rafe left Ordway with a full pardon for the stagecoach robbery and subsequent murders in his possession.
 
He also carried a document bearing the signatures of dozens of people who had witnessed his marriage to Angel.
 
Before he'd met up with Sheriff Tattersal, Rafe had intended to head north to Montana in hopes of running into Jess.
 
Rafe knew Jess would be happy as hell to learn he was a free man and so he could hang up his shingle and practice the profession he so loved.
 
As for Sam, he had no idea where to find his youngest brother.
 
The hellraiser could be anywhere.

So many things had changed now.
 
Rafe no longer felt the hangman breathing down his neck.
 
With two charges against him dismissed, he had but to prove himself innocent of killing Baxter before he'd be totally free to win back Angel's love.
 
With that in mind, Rafe set his sights on Canyon City.
 
He had a lot of miles to traverse and plenty of time to ponder all the ways in which he could clear his name and gain back his life.

Rafe knew he hadn't set an easy task for himself.
 
Baxter's death was a complete mystery.
 
Angela believed Chandler was somehow involved, but proving it wasn't going to be easy.
 
He could ride into Canyon City and display his pardons before the sheriff but that didn't mean he would be automatically cleared of Baxter's murder.
 
No, his pardons weren't going to help him one damn bit in this instance.
 
The only way to ferret out the killer, he decided, was by laying low and waiting for the real killer to make a mistake and reveal himself.
 
He supposed a good place to start was with Anson Chandler.

Weary beyond words and carrying a world of hurt buried deep inside her aching heart, Angela stepped off the stage in Ordway to stretch her legs and have a bite to eat when the conveyance made a regular stop in that city to pick up and discharge passengers.

Angela wasn't all that hungry but knew she had to eat to keep up her strength for the rest of the grueling trip.
 
Lost in contemplation, she started violently when she felt someone grip her arm.
 
She relaxed somewhat but remained vigilant when Dexter said, "There's a restaurant across the street.
 
We have an hour before the stage leaves."

Angela nodded curtly and shook free of Dexter's grasp.
 
She couldn't stand his touch; he made her skin crawl.
 
They had crossed the street and turned into the restaurant when she heard someone calling her name.