The Reluctant Outlaw (Love Inspired Historical) Page 5

  “And you’re acquainted with common criminals, I take it?”

  “Thanks to you, I am now.”

  “Yes, that’s unfortunate. I apologize.”

  “There.” She pointed a finger at him. “That’s the other thing. You shouldn’t be apologizing to me.”

  “I shouldn’t?” This woman was beginning to confuse him.

  “You treat me as if I have value. Those other men…” She shuddered. “What I mean to say is that, for the most part, you’ve treated me with respect. A truly hardened criminal would’ve done as those men suggested and gotten rid of me.”

  “Wait just a minute—”

  “Shh! Don’t try to distract me. There’s one more thing, and it’s a doozy.”

  A no-nonsense expression stole across her face and, straightening to her full height, she focused her entire attention on him. He felt like a witness under cross-examination.

  “Well? What is it?”

  “Money.”

  “What about it?”

  “Where is the money you risked your life and mine for? You walked out of that cabin without a moment’s hesitation. Have you even given it a second thought?”

  “I’ve been kinda busy plotting our next move.”

  “Exactly.”

  Uncomfortable with her astute observations, he sought to distract her. “Is that all, Irish?”

  “Yes, that’s all.” Her eyes narrowed. “What did you call me?”

  “Fits, doesn’t it? Or would you prefer Red?”

  “Absolutely not!”

  “I suppose I could try to guess your name,” Evan made a show of studying her, and he gained much satisfaction at seeing her squirm. “How about Matilda?”

  Her finely arched eyebrows shot up. “You think I look like a Matilda?”

  “Hmm…no, that’s not quite right, is it?” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I know. Bertha.”

  “Bertha?”

  “That’s not it, either, huh? Okay, a Bible name. Rachel. I like that one.”

  “Me, too, but it’s not mine.”

  “Can you give me a hint? Tell me what letter it starts with?”

  She bit her lip, and he could tell that she was beginning to find some humor in the conversation. A thrill shot through him. Trying to make her smile could become addictive.

  “That would make it too easy. Besides, you don’t deserve the help.”

  “In the meantime, then, I’ll stick with Irish.”

  “What? That’s not a proper name!”

  “It’s yours until you decide to quit being stubborn.” He shrugged, tossing her a washcloth. “See those trees over there? I’ll be right on the other side washing up while you do the same here. You’ll have plenty of privacy, but if you need anything just call out.”

  Juliana watched him stride away, her eyes fixed on his broad back. She noted the way the smooth material stretched across his powerful shoulders and biceps. A wall of solid muscle, he moved with purpose and confidence. On the outside, he was every girl’s dream.

  A pity he spent his days terrorizing innocents and taking what didn’t belong to him.

  His horse moved into her line of vision, his majestic black head low to the ground as he nibbled a clump of red clover. He was a fine specimen. Glossy coat, firm flesh, strong legs. Probably a fast runner…

  Juliana clapped a hand over her mouth. Lifting his head, Lucky stared at her blankly for a second or two before resuming his snacking. No…she couldn’t. Or could she?

  She spoke in low, soothing tones as she approached the animal and tried to convey an air of calm she didn’t feel. What would Evan Harrison do if he came back and caught her trying to steal his horse?

  “You’re a fine-lookin’ boy, aren’t you?” she crooned softly, taking hold of his studded bridle and rubbing her palm down his side. He was already used to her scent, and he seemed to welcome the attention. “Would you care to give me a ride somewhere, Lucky?”

  She’d have to ride bareback, since she wasn’t strong enough to lift the saddle with all the gear attached to it. While she preferred a saddle, riding without one was doable. If Lucky would let her, that is.

  “I have to try, right, boy?” She continued to rub his soft coat, her heart thumping in her chest. “I need my freedom.” She laid her forehead against his neck. “Will you help me?”

  Juliana searched the woods where Evan had disappeared. Nothing. Now was her chance. She prayed Lucky wouldn’t throw her.

  Still speaking soft words of encouragement, she led him to a fallen log, where she stepped up, grabbed hold and vaulted up and onto his back. Half lying on her stomach, she scooted closer to his neck, her inner thighs pressing into his sides for balance. She signaled for him to move out.

  The big black obeyed without a moment’s hesitation. She glanced over her shoulder and again saw no sign of Evan. She was sweating—not from exertion but from sheer nerves. Her stomach, already upset, was now a hard knot. Her hands shook.

  As she got farther from the campsite, however, Juliana felt like shouting for joy. Freedom was in her sights. God had surely presented her with this chance at escape.

  The going would be tough, no doubt. She had no supplies of any kind. Her cousins, she thanked God, had taught her many skills that would help her find food and shelter. The only problem, in her mind, was figuring out which direction to go. But even if she couldn’t get all the way back to Gatlinburg, she figured she’d come across a town eventually where she could get help.

  She took note of the sun’s position and rode in the opposite direction. They’d been traveling east, so it made sense that home was to the west.

  “Mr. Evan Harrison is in for one big surprise.” She grinned, ignoring the nudge of conscience. He’s strong and healthy, she reasoned. Wouldn’t hurt him a bit to hike to civilization.

  What she would do with the horse once she got home, she hadn’t a clue. She couldn’t keep him—he didn’t belong to her. She couldn’t very well return him, either. Evan knew she lived in or near Gatlinburg, and it wouldn’t be difficult for him to find her. Although her time with him had been brief, she had a gut feeling that he would come looking for what was rightfully his. The thought of meeting him face-to-face at this point unnerved Juliana.

  Pushing that disturbing thought away, she focused on her surroundings. She couldn’t afford to daydream. Not only did she need to keep Lucky headed in the right direction, she also had to keep a lookout for snakes or wild boars that might spook him.

  She was vulnerable out here alone, she knew. If only she had a weapon.

  I will never leave you, nor forsake you. The words from the book of Joshua reassured her. I know, Father, and I thank You for reminding me.

  After a mile or so of the beautiful yet monotonous terrain—wide-spaced hickory, spruce and sugar maple trees—her thoughts strayed again to Evan Harrison and his concerns about Lenny Fitzgerald and the others. He didn’t have her completely convinced of the danger. If they only planned to be in the vicinity for a week or two, all she had to do was stay home and not venture into town.

  And of course she planned to give Sheriff Timmons a detailed description of Lenny Fitzgerald. Wanted posters would go up all over town. That should send the criminal running in the opposite direction!

  But what about Mr. Harrison? Would she give a description of him, too? William Timmons would want the man who’d kidnapped Juliana. In the sheriff’s eyes, she realized, tracking down Evan Harrison would take precedence over capturing any of the others.

  Juliana wanted justice. Evan deserved to be punished for what he’d done, of course, but somehow she couldn’t place him on the same level as those other men. There was something different about him…she just couldn’t put her finger on what that something was.

  She had a knack for puzzles, though. It might take a while, but she was confident she’d figure it out sooner or later.

  Evan dried his face and neck and wondered if Miss O’Malley was finished. He’d decided on a wh
im to give her some privacy. She’d already endured enough on account of him, and to be honest, she was handling the situation with unusual grace. It wouldn’t kill him to show her a little kindness.

  Deciding he’d been gone long enough, he ambled back toward camp. The weather was fine for travel, he noted with relief. Not a cloud to be seen in the pale blue sky. The temperature was climbing—it would be a scorcher—so they would stick to the forest as long as possible. He hoped they made good time. The sooner this whole mess was behind him the better.

  When he emerged from the trees into the clearing, it didn’t at first register that anything was amiss. A few seconds was all it took for him to realize his grave error.

  He stood there slack-jawed for the space of a full minute.

  She was gone. Gone! And so was his horse!

  “Why that—” He clamped his mouth shut. He’d learned his childhood lessons well, and his mother had taught him not to disrespect women. Still…the woman had stolen his horse!

  What did she expect him to do? Walk to Cades Cove?

  He let out a low growl. Who did she think she was? Didn’t she know the punishment for stealing a horse was a hangman’s noose?

  He set about packing his gear, only what he couldn’t live without. His eyes fell on the saddle. She was riding his horse bareback? How had she managed to mount him?

  She couldn’t have gotten far, he reasoned. Irritation warred with concern. This was mostly uninhabited country—no place for a woman alone. How did she plan to feed herself? He checked the canteens. They were all there, which meant that she was traveling without water. In the height of summer. In the heat of the day. Great. He kicked a tin cup and it arced through the air. Just great.

  He’d promised to return her home safe. It was his attempt at righting a wrong. If he failed at this, it would be like losing James all over again. Maybe worse.

  Chapter Five

  Juliana was thirsty. And hot. Her throat was so dry it hurt to swallow. In her haste, she hadn’t thought about the need for water or protection from the sun’s rays. Her bonnet was probably where she’d left it—tossed on top of her blanket. Her fair skin felt tight and was sensitive to the touch, especially her cheeks and forehead.

  Gauging the sun’s position, she guessed it to be near eleven o’clock. She’d left the forest behind about two hours into the journey and had been traveling through open fields ever since. In the distance, she saw another forest and hoped it wouldn’t take long to get there.

  Her stomach was empty and urgently protesting that fact. If she didn’t find a place to fish, she would stop and search for berries and nuts. An apple tree would go a long way toward filling her stomach. Lucky’s, too.

  In all likelihood, Evan would laugh at her situation. After what she’d done, there’d be no room in his heart for compassion. It was an unwritten rule of their society—a man simply didn’t mess with another man’s horse. She supposed that rule applied to women, too.

  While Juliana was thankful that she’d been able to escape her kidnapper, she couldn’t deny that men came in handy sometimes. Especially out on the open trail.

  At long last, when Juliana was near to the point of falling off the horse, she reached the trees. She heard the sound of rushing water and sagged with relief. Past the point of all care, she ran to the water, flopped down on her stomach and submerged her face. Her unbound auburn hair floated on the surface like an intricate spiderweb.

  Rolling over on her back, she lay there half-in, half-out of the water, arms spread wide. Lucky was there nearby, noisily drinking his fill.

  “What a sight we must be.” She chuckled, reveling in the cold wetness and blessed relief from the relentless sun. Thank You, Lord. I was about to suffer a sunstroke, I do believe.

  Reluctantly she sat up to survey her surroundings. Water sluiced down her back, but she didn’t mind. It felt divine. Nothing about her surroundings triggered a memory. Of course she’d slept in the saddle last night, so it stood to reason that she wouldn’t recognize the landmarks.

  Butterflies filled her stomach at the memory of being held in Evan’s strong embrace. She’d fought to keep her eyes open, but between Lucky’s loping gait and Evan’s warmth enveloping her it had been an impossible battle. The fact that he’d carried and settled her in for the night made her face flame with embarrassment. Disgusted at herself for letting the outlaw affect her, she addressed his horse.

  “Are you hungry, Lucky?”

  The black had already searched out a patch of green grass and was chomping away.

  Juliana scanned the brook, disappointed to find only minnows in the shallow depths. There weren’t any frogs, either. Not even a turtle. A flash of white caught her eye, and she glanced up to see a cottontail hopping past. “You sure are a cute little guy. I hate to say this within your earshot, but if I had a gun I’d be having you for lunch.”

  Squeezing the excess moisture out of her hair, she used Evan’s comb to smooth the long locks.

  Lucky didn’t protest when she led him deeper into the woods. He was such a sweet horse. A prize, really. Evan must be heartsick at having lost him.

  Well, if he hadn’t kidnapped her in the first place, she reasoned, he would still have the horse in his possession.

  They came upon a blueberry patch, but someone or something had beaten them to it. Few berries remained, which only seemed to amplify her hunger. It also brought to mind her mother’s birthday cake, piled high with blueberries and strawberries. She’d never gotten a taste of that magnificent dessert.

  When I get home, she promised herself, I’m gonna ask the twins to make another one just for me.

  Daydreaming about her homecoming, Juliana thought her mind was playing tricks on her when she caught the scent of meat roasting over an open flame. Her mouth watered. Someone was nearby—with food.

  As much as she longed to go crashing through the underbrush and demand to be fed, she decided not to announce her presence before getting a look at whomever was out there. A woman alone had to be cautious or risk serious harm.

  With Lucky following close behind, she ventured closer to where she believed the scent was coming from. Unexpectedly, a raucous male voice broke the silence. She halted midstep and goose bumps skimmed along her skin. He was singing a ditty unfit for a lady’s ears.

  Juliana continued her approach, however, determined to see for herself what he looked like. Dense weeds and bushes provided cover so that she could get close without him spotting her. Looping the reins around a tree limb and issuing a command for Lucky to stay, she crawled into the bushes.

  The pop and sizzle of meat made her mouth water. A fat brown spider landed on her hand and, gasping aloud, she flung it away. She detested spiders. Once, when she was a little girl, she had been playing in the hayloft when she disturbed a whole nest of them. Tiny spiders—hundreds of them—scurried in all directions and, of course, some of them crawled over her shoes. Screaming at the top of her lungs, she ran to climb down the ladder and, in her haste, fell to the hard dirt floor below. She suffered a broken arm and spent half the summer confined to the house.

  Juliana searched the branches above her head and the grass below for more of the wretched things. Satisfied that she was safe, she crept deeper into the bushes. A dark form was visible through the leaves, and as she neared she saw that his back was to her. Unfortunately, he was still singing in a loud, off-key voice, sitting cross-legged before the fire and guzzling whiskey from a half-empty bottle. His clothes were wrinkled and stained and the edges ragged.

  He looked harmless enough. Probably a down-on-his-luck drifter. And the demands of her empty stomach were starting to override her hesitation. What could she offer him in exchange for a share of the meal? All she had was the comb in her pocket, and from the looks of him, he wouldn’t be interested. Did she dare hope he would help her out of the goodness of his heart?

  All he could do is say no, she supposed.

  Her mind made up, she retraced her steps and appro
ached the campsite.

  Rounding the bushes, she collided with a tall, thin body. She jumped back with a startled gasp.

  “Miss O’Malley!”

  Juliana glanced up into Art’s shocked face. “Art! What are you doing here?”

  “The boss sent us. Didn’t trust Harrison—” His gaze skittered away for a brief second before returning to her face. “I’m mighty glad you’re okay, miss. ’Course, I never believed any of that stuff Harrison said. Where is he anyhow?” He glanced over her shoulder at Evan’s horse.

  “He, um…” She stalled, racking her brain for a plausible story.

  “Oh, miss.” Art groaned, brown eyes going wide, “You didn’t give him the slip, did ya?”

  “Well, I—”

  He slapped his head. “This ain’t good at all! He’ll be hoppin’ mad! And there’s no telling what Fitzgerald will do.”

  Juliana took an automatic step back. “Fitzgerald? He’s here? With you?”

  “Yep, that’s him singin’ like a drunk bullfrog.”

  Oh, no. What now? Harrison was right!

  Her pulse skyrocketing, she pivoted on her heel and strode toward Lucky. “I have to find Evan!”

  She had one foot in the stirrup when she heard the click of a gun hammer.

  “Stop right there.”

  Juliana froze. Dread settled like a leaden weight on her shoulders.

  “Step away from the horse,” Fitzgerald ordered with a wave of his pistol.

  She was in big trouble, and Evan was miles away. Too far to rescue her this time. Not that he would after what she’d done to him. Silently, she did as she was told.

  “Where’s Harrison?” he demanded, all joviality of a few moments ago gone.

  “He’s not here.” She looked him straight in the eye, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear.

  “I can see that,” he snapped. “Where is he?”