A Lady Like Sarah (37 page)

George glared at her.
"You ain't nothin' but trouble."

Sarah's knees almost caved beneath her. "I don't want to see him," she whispered. "Tell him to go away."

Her three brothers exchanged looks before George started for the door. "I'll talk to him."

"No, not you," Sarah said. "Let Robert talk to him." She knew that of her three brothers, Robert would be the most gentle and kind. "Please, George."

George nodded to Robert. "Tell him to get lost. And make it quick."

Justin didn't know what he'd hoped to accomplish, but he couldn't just let Sarah walk out of his life. Not without a fight. He'd hoped that she'd had time to reconsider, but the moment he saw Robert emerge from the dilapidated log building, his hopes all but vanished.

Robert wasted no time getting to the point. "She doesn't want to talk to you."

Justin glanced at the old fort building, both heartened and dismayed by the small movement in the window. She was so close, yet so very far away.

"I'm not leaving till she does."

Robert moved to the guard station out of the rain, and Justin followed suit. For several moments the two men stood in silence, oblivious to the puddle of water that formed around their feet.

Robert was the first to speak. "What's
goin
' on with you two? When Sarah left earlier, I was sure she would never come back."

Hands on his hips, Justin glanced down at the little river of water that ran past his boots. "I want to marry Sarah."

"I thought as much."

Justin nodded. "I love her."

"I know."

"She turned me down."

"Because of our outlawing ways?"
Robert asked.

"Yes."

Robert gazed into the distance as if seeing something in the distant past.

"I once asked a girl to marry
me,"
Robert began slowly, his face soft with sadness. "Prettiest girl you ever did see.
Blonde hair.
Big blue eyes.
Her mother was a schoolteacher, her father a cabinet maker. She came from a real family, and I wanted what she had.
A home.
A profession I could be proud of.
Children.

"She
turned me down even after I swore to go straight. Said that whatever my family did would haunt us for the rest of our lives."

Justin gave a brief nod. "Sarah said practically the same thing."

Robert rubbed a hand over his unshaven chin. "She's right, you know.
You being a preacher and all."

"There's a baby who needs a mother, and Sarah . . . she's great with her. She's everything we both need, Elizabeth and me." Justin studied Robert's face, sensing both a tortured soul and a sympathetic ear.

Robert stared back, his forehead
farrowed
. "She's a Prescott."

Grimacing, Justin took a moment to gather his thoughts before meeting Robert's troubled eyes again. "Sarah always said nice things about you.
She
said you taught her how to read and write.
Seems to me of all her brothers, you've shown her the most concern."

Robert's eyes darkened with emotion. "George believes he's doing right by us."

"Believing doesn't make it so."

For the longest while, Robert didn't say a word. He just kept staring at some distant memory. Heaving a sigh, he stepped from beneath the overhang. He paused for a moment, rain beading his head and trickling down his face. Finally, he turned toward the fort. "Stay here."

"Let me go with you," Justin called after him.

Robert's steps faltered. "Stay right where you are, Reverend. You've got a whole lot of
prayin
' to do."

As soon as she heard Robert's footfall, Sarah spun around to face the door. Robert walked inside and took his time wiping the mud off his boots though the scruffy wood floor was already covered with dust, dried leaves, and animal droppings.

Sarah took one look at his grim face and her heart sank. His encounter with Justin must have been even more difficult than she imagined. "Is . . . is Justin—"

Instead of answering her question, Robert surprised her by talking about a girl named Laurie Anne. She never knew the girl's name. The only reason she knew about her at all was because she had followed Robert one night to find out why he was acting so secretive. Sarah had only been sixteen at the time and Robert eighteen, but it was obvious he was in love. She questioned him about the
gir
later, but he refused to tell her anything and made her promise not to say a word to George and Jed. Now, he went into great detail.

"Her smile was as bright as the sun," he said.

Sarah had never heard Robert talk with such passion, seen such fire in his eyes. This was how he wrote, not how he usuÂally spoke. Sarah always thought that his literary voice was far stronger than his actual voice, but today he proved her wrong.

"What's gotten into you, Robert?" Jed asked, shrugging with impatience. "You're acting like a lovesick coon."

Ignoring him, Robert continued. "She loved reading my stories."

Sarah stared at him in surprise. "You let her read your work?"

Robert nodded. "I figured if I'm
gonna
ask a girl to marry me, she had the right to know what she was
gettin
' herself into."

His two brothers gaped at him as if he'd lost his mind. NeiÂther George nor Jed had much patience with his
scribblings
.

Sarah squeezed his arm. That's wonderful," she said. She frowned. "Isn't it?"

Robert covered her hand
with his own
. "Sarah, you found a good man out there. He loves you and wants to take care of you. It's what we always wanted for you. What
I
always wanted for you."

Sarah tried to pull her hand away, but he held on tight. She glared up at him. "A man like him can't be married to the likes of me. Don't you understand? He's a preacher. A man of God, and I ain't nothin' but a—"

"He loves you," Robert said with firm conviction, as if that alone were enough.

Sarah felt what fragile control was left begin to falter. "And I love him." She struggled to keep her voice steady. "But that don't change nothin'."

George shoved a chair aside. "What is this? We've got more important things to worry about. Wells Fargo is moving a big shipment of gold. If we don't hit the trail, we're
gonna
be out of luck."

Her stomach knotted, and a sick feeling came over her.
She
swallowed the bile that burned her throat.
More shipÂments, more gold.
Would it ever stop?

Releasing her hand, Robert turned and faced his brother. "There isn't going to be any gold."

George leveled him a glowering look. "What kind of crazy talk is that?"

Robert didn't
so
much as blink. "We're done. The robÂberies, the holdups, they end now, in this room."

Sarah stared at Robert in disbelief.
Dear God, let it be true . . .

George's eyes bulged. "Have you gone plain loco? What we're
doing . . .
It's only right that they should pay after what they did to our parents.
Our family."

"And Wells Fargo did pay, George. For sixteen years they've been paying. But so has Sarah. So have the rest of us. We take the bank's money, and the bank robs us of any sort of a decent life. Do we really want to spend the rest of our lives on the run?"

"Robert has a point," Jed said, his voice wavering. "We almost ended up with a noose around our necks
tryin
' to save Sarah. Next time, we might not be so lucky."

George jabbed his finger against Jed's chest. "If we were in any danger, it's only '
cuz
you had to go and announce to the world
who
we are."

"Jed did a very brave thing," Sarah said. She never thought Jed had the backbone to act so bold. She could only imagine what it must have cost him to stand up in front of the marshal and confess to being a Prescott.

George's face turned a bright red. "What's wrong with you all?" he exploded. "Gone soft, have you?"

"Not soft," Robert said quietly, his measured voice a startling contrast to George's thunderous roar. "We just got smart, is all."

It was three to one and George looked trapped. His eyes grew wild. His gaze swept from one to the other, as if to search for the weakest link among his united siblings.

"George," Sarah pleaded. "I love you, and I'll always be grateful to you for
takin
' care of us after our parents died. But
Robert
is right. There's a wonderful life
waitin
' for us.
One that we can be proud of.
One that our dear ma and papa would want us to have."

George leaned toward her.
His face dark with cold fury.
"Every time you leave the family, you get into trouble
and
come runnin' back."

"That's '
cuz
I never really
leave
the family," she said. "How can I? Our reputation follows me wherever I go. There's no
gettin
' away from it."

"It's that preacher." George all but spit out the words. "He's the one who put all these fancy ideas into your fool head."

Refusing to let her anguish overcome her control, she lifted her chin and forced herself to stand her ground. "I've always wanted to live a normal life. I wanted to find me a husÂband. Have children. Justin didn't put those ideas in my head. All he did was make me realize that
wantin
' those things ain't—isn't wrong."

George glanced from one to another like a cornered aniÂmal, and Sarah could only guess what was going through his mind. As the oldest, George had exerted his rightful place as head of the family. His brothers rarely argued with him and all through her growing-up years, she never even questioned his authority. But today, his younger siblings stood united and he looked like the wind had been knocked out of him.

He staggered around like he had too much to drink. PlacÂing both hands on a wooden table, he hung his head low. A tall man, he suddenly seemed to shrink, every curve of his body spelling defeat.

For the longest while, no one spoke. The only sound that could be heard was rain beating against the roof and windows.

Finally, George straightened. "If marriage and children are what you want, Sarah, then marry your preacher." His voice was low and hollow, sounding nothing like the brother who
had ruled the family all these years. He turned to face her. "I won't stop you."

"She can't," Robert said. "Not as long as the Prescotts are in business."

George threw up his hands. "Then there's no
helpin
' it."

"Yes, there is," Robert said in a deadly calm voice that gave Sarah goose bumps. "I'm out. I'm no longer riding with you."

George glared at him, and Sarah feared they would come to blows. But then an amazing thing happened. Jed stepped between them and turned to face George.

"Count me out too," he said. "I want what's right for Sarah. It's 'bout time she got herself a husband. It's over, George. The Prescott gang is done."

"We can't quit just like that," George argued.

"Sure we can," Jed said. "That preacher in Fort Smith done baptized us. That means that in God's eyes we got what you might call a clean slate. It's the perfect time to quit. All we
gotta
do is change our names and the way we dress. If what they say 'bout clothes
makin
' the man is true, then maybe plaid sack suits would make us
look
like
respect'able
citizens."

George's face was pale with shock and disbelief. He stared at Jed, the follower, the one who was most likely to see things George's way.

"Robert writes and can work for a newspaper.
But what about you?
What skills do you have?" His voice was harsh, almost cruel. "I'll tell you what you have. You have nothin'. You ain't got a blasted thing!"

To his credit, Jed didn't back down, revealing a strength of character not previously shown.
"
Robbin
' stages ain't no longer practical.
Most money is being transported by railroads nowadays, and we'd be
competin
' with Jesse's gang. The real money today is in cattle."

George made a dismissive gesture with his arm. "The cattle business ain't
gonna
last forever."

"Maybe not," Jed said, "at least it'll make honest businessmen out of us."

Robert nodded. "Jed's right. Cattle are pulling in some seventy dollars a head."

Encouraged by Robert's approval, Jed's voice grew stronger. "I say we take what money we have left and invest in cattle."

Without waiting for George to respond, Robert turned to Sarah. "Laurie Anne married someone else," he said. "So it's too late for me. But it's not too late for you, little sister. You have my word: the Prescott gang is no more."