The Outlaw Takes a Bride (34 page)

Johnny stared down at the printed words.
John Paynter cleared. Now looking for Cameron Combes. Slater
.

He inhaled carefully, as if any disturbance would change the words before him.

“Slater being the marshal?” he asked.

“That’s right. I expect I’ll get more information by post, but I thought I’d save him some trouble by making sure Combes was still here. Odd how you haven’t heard from your brother, but the man they’re looking for in Colorado is right here in Beaumont.”

Johnny’s stomach felt a bit odd, and he doubted he could drink the lemonade. Sally seemed to be taking her time getting it, and he was glad she hadn’t returned yet.

“Is he saying Cam’s the one who killed the person they thought… ?”

“I’m not sure. But they’re looking for him. Why didn’t you tell me he was from up that way?”

Johnny shook his head, wondering where to start. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

“This got me thinking,” Jackson said soberly. “Maybe Combes knows something about your brother. Have you asked him? Could be he’s not being straight with you.”

“Sheriff, I—”

Sally came in, carrying a stoneware jug. Jackson picked up the telegram and folded it.

“Sally knows all about what I wanted to tell you,” Johnny said. “And I was wrong. It does have to do with Cam. Sort of. But we don’t know where he is now.” He put his elbows on the table, clasped his hands, and leaned his forehead against them for a moment.

“Something happen here?” Jackson asked, shooting a glance at Sally.

She had poured out the lemonade and brought over two glasses.

“Here you go, Sheriff. It’s no warmer than our well water, and that’s pretty warm. I wish we had some ice.”

“Don’t worry about that, ma’am. But what is all this about the hired man?”

Sally frowned. “Cam? Not much, except my husband told him to leave last week.”

Jackson focused on Johnny again. “Why was that?”

Johnny took a deep breath. “He was bothering Sally. But that’s not why I left you the message, Sheriff. There’s a lot more to it than that.”

Jackson picked up his glass and sipped his lemonade. “That’s good stuff, Mrs. Paynter.”

Sally smiled. “Thank you. I know you two have a lot to discuss. I’ll go out to the garden patch.” She laid her hand on Johnny’s shoulder for a moment. “Just call me in if you need me for anything.”

He nodded, unable to meet her gaze. She went out and closed the door.

Jackson leaned toward him. “All right, Mark, spill it. What happened here?”

Sally pulled all the weeds out of the garden and pulled up the dead plants from their spring harvest. They wouldn’t plant the fall garden for a month or more, but she did everything she could to prepare the ground. She wished she had started a wash or something else she could do out here. She wandered around to the front of the cabin.

The sheriff’s horse had browsed its way a hundred yards down the road. She went after it. The roan let her approach, and she was able to pick up a trailing rein without alarming the animal. She led it back to the corral. Reckless nickered and came over to say hello. Maybe she should unsaddle the roan. A glance toward the house told her nothing. With a sigh, she opened the gate and turned the sheriff’s horse out with Reckless and Lady. At the last moment, she decided to take off its bridle, so none of the horses could step on the reins.

This compromise left her feeling better, and she hung the bridle over the gatepost. Now what?

The cabin door opened, and Johnny came out. The sheriff followed, fitting his hat on as he walked.

“I acted too soon, fella,” Sally said to the roan, who was sniffing about, hoping to find some grass. “Guess we’ll have to put your bit back in.”

Johnny walked toward her, but the sheriff lingered near the well.

“We’re going to walk up the hill,” Johnny said when he reached her. “I’m going to show him Mark’s grave. Do you want to come?”

“What did he say? Is he going to arrest you?”

“No. He believes me. But he thinks… He thinks Cam may be in that Colorado business up to his neck.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They’ve cleared me, Sally. Jackson says they must have new evidence. He doesn’t have all the details, but the marshal up there is looking for Cam. Jackson says it could be Cam killed Red Howell and then told me the men on the outfit thought I’d done it, so that I’d run away with him. It kind of makes sense. I told Cam I had a brother in Texas, and he figured this would be a good place for him to go. Nobody could connect him with Mark, and if I brought him here, it might be a good place for him to hide for a while.”

Sally stared at him. “You mean that man was a murderer all along? And he—” She felt a little woozy, remembering Cam’s fingers on her neck.

Johnny seized her arms and held on to her. “You all right?”

She nodded.

“You need to sit?”

“No. No, I—Johnny, did you tell Sheriff Jackson what he did? Here, I mean.”

Johnny’s eyes went hard. “I told him that I heard you scream and when I went in the house, he had his hands on you.” His grip on her arms softened. “I’m so sorry I didn’t listen when you first told me he made you uncomfortable.”

Sally’s mind reeled. So many times Johnny had ridden off and left her here alone. Cam could have attacked her any time he wanted. She supposed he had held off out of respect for his friend. But how respectful had he really been to Johnny? His words last week implied he didn’t think Johnny was much of a man. Did he know they hadn’t consummated their marriage? She didn’t think Johnny would tell that to anyone. It was difficult for him to talk about anything personal. But Cam might have weaseled it out of him. To hear Johnny tell it, Cam had been pretty much in control of their flight and their arrangements once they got here. Cam had persuaded him to take Mark’s identity. Cam had convinced him that he had to marry her. All the time he’d been with Johnny, Cam had held the hangman’s noose over him.

“He could have killed us and claimed he’d bought the ranch,” she said.

“I…I don’t think…” Johnny looked away. “Guess I don’t know what he’s capable of. But we don’t know for sure that he killed Red Howell.”

“But that’s why Cam brought you here. To get himself to a safe place without you suspecting. Isn’t that what the sheriff thinks?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Johnny said, “It’s possible.”

Sally took a deep breath. “Right. Let’s show him the grave, then.”

Johnny took her hand, and they walked back to where Jackson waited.

“I took your horse’s bridle off,” she said.

“Thanks. You coming along with us?”

“Yes.”

The men walked quickly, and Sally was winded by the time they reached the cross. They all stood gazing at it in silence. Sheriff Jackson pulled his hat off, and Johnny followed suit.

“Sally and I decided we’ll get a stone marker made,” Johnny said. “It’s a real shame, what they did to him.”

“And you’re sure it wasn’t Combes?”

“Absolutely. He was with me the whole trip, and we didn’t separate that last day to hunt or anything.”

“You didn’t hear the gunfire?”

Johnny shook his head. “We must have come along a couple hours after them, is all I can figure. We got here midday—past noon, I reckon.”

“They probably hit the ranch at dawn,” Jackson said. “They got into town around eight o’clock. Some of the stores weren’t open yet. Frank Simon was just unlocking the grocery.”

“Mark was up and dressed when they hit.” Johnny sighed. “I hope he got off a shot or two. There weren’t any guns here. I figure they took ’em. And his horses.”

“What else?” Jackson asked.

“A lot of his foodstuffs. And there was hardly a penny nor a bullet around the place. They got what they came for.”

“I expect you’re right.”

“Sheriff, if you go after that gang again, I’d like to ride with you,” Johnny said.

“If they set foot in this county again, I’ll be after them. Counting your brother, they’ve killed three people in my jurisdiction—that I know of.”

“Mark was a good man,” Sally said, tears clogging her throat.

“I wish I’d known him better.”

Sally eyed Jackson from under the brim of her bonnet. Probably best to leave well enough alone, but she wanted his assurance. “You’re letting Johnny get on with his life, Sheriff?”

“The way I see it, he’s not guilty of anything except maybe poor judgment.”

Johnny cleared his throat. “He said he doesn’t think a court would find me guilty of any crimes for not reporting Mark was dead.”

“A lot of people die out here without getting a death certificate. And you’d be surprised how many people change their names.” Sheriff Jackson put his hat on. “Now, you folks tell me if Combes shows his face again.”

“We will,” Sally said.

Jackson nodded and clapped Johnny on the shoulder. “I’ll expect to see you in church every Sunday or know the reason why.”

“I’ll be there,” Johnny said.

“Wait!” Sally plucked at the sheriff’s sleeve. “What will we tell folks in town?”

“I’ll put it about that Mark’s passed on and his brother’s living at the ranch. You’ll have to tell people you’re close with.”

“Nobody seems to have known Mark real well,” Johnny said.

Jackson nodded. “He was quiet, kept to himself. Now that you’ve shaved, you don’t look as much like him. I didn’t notice at first because I wasn’t looking for a change. That’s not good for a lawman, but it’s the truth. Most folks will be hazy on when the switch happened. The people at church know you got married recently, though.”

“Pastor Lewis knows all about it,” Sally said.

“So Johnny told me. Maybe he can help out with telling the people at church. I think they’d be an understanding bunch, if it comes to telling the whole story. But I doubt you’ll have to. Just quit calling yourself Mark.” He looked sternly at Johnny, who nodded. “Oh, and you’ll have to straighten things out at the bank. When you’re in town next, let me know, and I’ll go over there with you and vouch for you.”

“Thanks, Sheriff,” Johnny said.

“I’m Fred. If I ever have call to arrest you, you can call me Sheriff. But don’t let that happen.”

Johnny nodded and put his hat on. They walked down the hill slowly, with Johnny holding Sally’s hand. Already she was planning how to get it across to Liz that her husband was Mark’s brother, not Mark, but they didn’t want a lot of gossip about it. Liz would help, she was sure.

When they got to the corral, Jackson bridled his horse and brought him out through the gate and checked his cinch strap.

“All right, folks, best of luck to you.” He swung up into the saddle. “I’ll let you know if I find out more about the Howell murder.”

Jackson rode out, and they stood together, watching his roan until it rounded the bend. Johnny let out a big breath.

“Feeling pretty good, Mr. Paynter?” Sally asked.

“Yes, ma’am. Better’n I have in some time.” He put his arm around her waist, and Sally turned toward him, forcing him to look into her eyes. “Lots better,” he amended.

She slid both her arms around him, and they stood there for a long time, holding on tight.

“Writing to your folks again?” Johnny asked. Sally sat at the kitchen table with paper spread out and her pen skittering across it like a lizard.

She looked up at him and smiled. “Uh-huh. Ma said they might be able to come down next month for a week or two.”

“That sounds good,” Johnny said. “Where’ll we put ’em?”

“In our room, I reckon.”

“Guess we could sleep out in the barn.”

She chewed on the end of her pen for a moment. “Would you mind?”

“No. Would you?”

“Not if it meant having Ma and Pa here.”

He smiled. The last two weeks had been the happiest in his life, and he would do anything the keep Sally smiling. She was easy to please, and he loved to see that wide-eyed look of wonder and glee when he came up with some small surprise for her. When he’d dug up a few wildflowers from the high pasture and brought them down to plant in front of the cabin, she’d about hugged him senseless.

“We need to make a proper room for a couple of hands out there if we’re going to increase the herd this fall. Maybe we ought to go in town this afternoon. I could get some lumber, and you could pick up some new mattress ticking and curtain material. And dishes. We’ll need a proper set of china if your ma’s coming.”