Amelia and the Outlaw Read online

  “I suspect Robert hit the nail on the head. The boy was looking for an easy way out.”

  “Prison doesn’t seem like an easy way to me,” she told him.

  “He didn’t plan on getting caught, Amelia,” David said, as though she didn’t possess a lick of sense.

  Sometimes her brothers were an irritating nuisance. Just because they were older didn’t mean they were smarter.

  She moved her carrots from one side of her plate to the other. Watching Jesse get off the train, she’d felt a whole range of emotions. She’d originally been frightened at the sight of his shackles, thinking he must be dangerous if he had to be restrained.

  But as she’d approached him and seen the loneliness in his eyes, she’d felt a strong urge to comfort him. Until he’d given her a look from the back of the wagon that had reminded her of a hungry wolf. Strangely, rather than making her wary, he’d only served to pique her curiosity and to confuse her.

  “I thought he’d look mean,” she murmured.

  How did Jesse manage to look dangerous without appearing to be terrifying? She’d always associated fear with danger. But what she felt now wasn’t a scary sensation, but more of an exciting allure.

  “Don’t be fooled, Amelia,” Robert said. “Judge Gray didn’t send him to prison without good reason.”

  She gnawed on her lower lip. “If Papa believed that, he wouldn’t have brought Jesse here.” She turned to her father. “You think Judge Gray was wrong, don’t you?”

  Her father sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t like second-guessing another judge. Jesse was involved in an armed bank robbery during a time when crime in Fort Worth was escalating. A man was shot. He didn’t die, but he came close. I suppose Judge Gray wanted to make an example of Jesse. I don’t fault him for that. I just thought the sentence seemed a bit harsh for a fourteen-year-old.”

  “For all we know, maybe it wasn’t harsh enough,” David said. “I just hope we don’t all come to regret your good intentions.”

  Her father shoved his plate away, as though by doing so he could bring an end to the conversation. “Until we can get a good measure of the young man, I want you to watch him closely, but give him some slack.”

  “He’ll just hang himself with it,” Robert said.

  Her brothers usually weren’t negative, but then they normally didn’t have an outlaw walking among them.

  “It’ll be his choice if he does,” her father said.

  “What do you know about him?” Amelia asked. “Other than the fact that he’s an outlaw, I mean.”

  “Not much,” her father admitted. “Judge Gray wrote more about the crime than he did the offender.”

  “Jesse seems polite enough,” she offered.

  “I reckon prison can beat politeness into you,” David said.

  Amelia hated to admit she’d thought the same thing earlier. It wasn’t often she and David agreed on anything—except for their enjoyment of dime novels. He had so many books that she could always snitch one out of his bedroom without his noticing.

  Her father shook his head slightly, furrowing his brow. “He was short on words, but polite when I visited him in prison. That’s the reason I decided it was safe to take a chance and let him serve out his time here.” He pointed his finger toward her. “But you, young lady, are to stay away from him.”

  Amelia decided that task would be easier said than done. She was fascinated with the outlaw and his deep blue eyes that reflected a sadness she didn’t think she could even begin to imagine.

  Since entering the bunkhouse, Jesse hadn’t spoken a single word to anyone, and no one had spoken to him. The cowhand who slept in the bunk beneath his had finally returned to his bed when he realized Jesse wasn’t going to fight him.

  Shortly after eight o’clock, Tanner had announced it was time to hit the sack. Cards had been put away and lanterns dimmed before most of the men had crawled onto their beds.

  Some snored. Jesse was able to block out the noise, though. Men had snored in prison. Other prisoners had sobbed or yelled out in their sleep. Prison was never quiet, never still. There was always a sound, a restless movement, a wanting to be somewhere else so badly….

  And right now he wanted to be anywhere but here. He shifted his gaze from the shadows dancing across the ceiling to those washing over the door. Moonlight eased in through the slats of the shutters covering the windows. Not a lot of light, but enough that he could see that no one sat in chairs near the tables or windows.

  Tanner had left the bunkhouse after shouting another order for everyone to be quiet and get some shut-eye. He hadn’t returned. The temptation to step outside overwhelmed Jesse.

  It had been a little over five years since he’d been able to leave a room simply because he wanted to.

  The bed moaned as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bunk. He held his breath, waiting for someone to tell him to lie back down.

  But no such order came. And it dawned on him that he didn’t have to answer to these men. He only had to report to Tanner, and he wasn’t around.

  Carefully, quietly, he eased off the bunk until his boots touched the ground with a hushed thud. He considered removing them, but where he wanted to go, he’d need them. Besides, removing them would probably make more noise than just creeping to the door.

  So he crept. He heard someone stir and someone else snort. A muffled cough. A squeaking bed.

  But no one came forward to stop him.

  The hinges creaked as he opened the door slightly and slipped into the night.

  He drew in a deep breath of clean air. He didn’t know if anything had ever smelled so sweet.

  “Going somewhere?” a deep voice asked, nearly sending him leaping off the porch.

  He twisted around. In the shadows beneath the eaves, he made out Tanner’s silhouette.

  “I needed some air,” he said defensively.

  “Yeah, I know that feeling. Some of those boys don’t wash their socks often enough.”

  It wasn’t the smell of feet or sweat or bodies that had caused him to want to leave. It was everything closing in on him…getting smaller and smaller until it was no bigger than a closet.

  “You always guard the door?” Jesse asked, resentment rising in him like burning bile. He knew he had no reason to be trusted, but he hated having every movement watched and measured. When the judge had made his offer, Jesse had thought he was getting out of prison. Instead he was discovering that it had simply taken on a different shape.

  “I always take some time in the evening to relax out here before I turn in,” Tanner said. “You got a problem with my habits?”

  “No, sir.”

  Jesse glanced toward the corral. He needed to walk somewhere, to escape for a few minutes, to pretend he wasn’t shackled by his past crimes.

  “Can I take a walk around here?” he asked.

  “I’m not your jailer, boy.”

  He snapped his head around. “I thought you were.”

  “I’m supposed to keep an eye on you, but I don’t plan to watch you like a hawk. I give you my word, though, that if you run off, I’ll hunt you down if the Harper boys don’t find you first.”

  “I’ve got no plans to run off. As bad as this is, it’s a lot better than prison.”

  “I know that for a fact,” Tanner said.

  Jesse’s breath caught. “You’ve been to prison?”

  “My past is my business. Take your walk.”

  With a deep breath, Jesse stepped off the porch and headed for the corral. In prison, his job had been to tend to the needs of the guards’ horses: brushing them, feeding them, and keeping their stalls clean. His desire to get close to the familiar was almost overwhelming.

  He’d enjoyed caring for the animals. He wasn’t certain what his chores around here would entail, but maybe he could look out for the animals as well.

  He glanced toward the house. Pale light spilled out of a couple of the windows on the second floor. He wondered if any of the
windows visible to him belonged to Amelia. It would be a lot easier serving out his time here if she weren’t around.

  In the judge’s library, he’d been torn between wanting to look at her and being ashamed that he’d ever been sent to prison.

  He reached the corral and folded his arms over the top railing. Several paddocks fanned out from this one. The others housed several horses each, but within this main one, a lone horse cantered around the edge of the fence as though it felt as restless as Jesse did. As though it, too, wanted to escape. Moonlight played over its shiny black coat.

  Jesse clicked his tongue behind his teeth, making a little clacking sound as he held out his hand.

  “Come here,” he said softly. “Come here.”

  He’d always drawn comfort from the animals he’d tended. They didn’t judge a man even when he deserved judgment.

  The horse cautiously approached. Jesse reached out and rubbed its muzzle. He wished he had a bit of an apple or a carrot to offer.

  “She bites,” a soft feminine voice said.

  Jesse snatched his hand back and spun around. The judge’s daughter stood beside him, her hair no longer piled on her head, but draped over one shoulder in a long braid.

  He shoved his hands into his britches pockets and took a step back. He was near enough that he could smell her honeysuckle scent.

  “Cat got your tongue?” she asked.

  She’d asked him the same thing at the depot, and he hadn’t known what to say then either. His mouth felt dry enough that it was possible something had hold of his tongue. He’d been fourteen the last time he’d actually spoken to a female beyond the introductions. He couldn’t even recall the girl’s name now. Her father had owned the general store in the last town he’d ridden through before the botched bank robbery.

  Behind the general store, he’d kissed her more than he’d talked to her. She’d been a little wild, had sensed the danger in him, and had been lured by it. Or so she’d whispered in between kisses.

  But now he wasn’t nearly as dangerous as the girl who stood before him. All she had to do was snap her fingers, and he’d be back behind prison walls.

  “I’m supposed to stay away from you.” He sounded breathless, as though he’d run out to the corral.

  “So go on back to the bunkhouse if you’re scared.”

  His pride bristled at her challenge. “I’m not scared.”

  But he was. He didn’t want to go back to prison, and staying away from her was a rule. He pointed toward the bunkhouse. “Tanner’s sitting on the porch.”

  “Knowing Tanner, he won’t interfere unless I holler. He believes in giving a person more freedom than my father does.”

  Still, Tanner was watching, and all he had to do was tell the judge that Jesse had been out here with Amelia and he’d be back at prison. He knew he should leave, but he didn’t want her thinking he was afraid. He’d learned in prison that to survive he couldn’t let anyone know he was afraid.

  So he stayed, with his stomach knotting up and his blood thundering in his ears.

  She turned away from him, stepped on the bottom rung of the fence, and crossed her arms over the top railing. The horse neared, and Amelia held out her hand.

  Even in the darkness, Jesse could tell she had something in her palm. He saw the horse nudge her hand and then heard the crisp echo of munching.

  “Thought you said she bites,” he said, irritated that her earlier comment had caused him to snatch his hand back.

  “She’s not silly enough to bite the hand that feeds her. Are you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She turned her head toward him, and he saw the moonlight dancing in her eyes and outlining the curves of her cheeks.

  “You look at my father as though you resent him.”

  “I resent the rules,” he admitted.

  “I’m not too fond of them myself,” she said.

  Jesse knew he should head back to the bunkhouse, but his chest ached with wanting. For just a few minutes, if he kept his distance, maybe no harm would come from pretending that he was like every other fella in the bunkhouse—was truly free to pursue his dreams.

  He glanced over his shoulder. No sign of Tanner. Maybe he could stay a minute more.

  Amelia pulled her hand out of her pocket and handed another morsel of apple to the horse. “Don’t you think she’s beautiful?” she asked.

  He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had asked his opinion on a matter. Why would she care what he thought about her horse? “Maybe,” he answered.

  “You’re not much of a talker, are you?”

  “I talk when I’ve got something to say.”

  “Which apparently isn’t very often. Aren’t you curious about my horse?”

  He could imagine Tanner watching him, counting off the minutes. “I need to get back to the bunkhouse.”

  “We’ve had Duchess for almost two months,” she said quickly, “but no one has been able to break her. Papa says you worked with the prison’s horses.”

  “So?” he asked, irritated that she knew his private business. Although he supposed as a prisoner, he really had no private business.

  “Do you know much about horses?”

  “Some.”

  “If she’s not broken soon, he’ll get rid of her. He doesn’t have much tolerance for rebellion—in animals or people.”

  He thought he detected a measure of resentment in her voice. He couldn’t imagine that she did much rebelling, although he had to admit she was out here in the dead of night talking to him.

  “Duchess,” she said softly, sending a shiver racing through him from his chin to his toes. He envied the horse because she was rubbing its nose. “Why won’t you let anyone break you?”

  “Some horses aren’t meant to be broken,” Jesse said.

  “But she’s supposed to be my birthday present.” She leaned over and kissed the horse’s forehead. “I want to ride her, but I’m forbidden to even try until one of the men can ride her without being tossed.”

  “And you always do what you’re told,” he guessed.

  “Obviously not. I’m out here talking to you, aren’t I?”

  “You’re talking to your horse. I just happen to be standing nearby.”

  She flashed him a smile. “I doubt that excuse would hold up in my father’s courtroom.”

  He didn’t much like being reminded of her father. He took a step back. “It’s been a long day. I need to get some sleep.” And he needed to get to the bunkhouse before Tanner came after him.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said quietly. “You don’t look like a criminal to me. You’re innocent, aren’t you?”

  “No, ma’am, I’m not.”

  And with that, he turned on his heel and headed back to the bunkhouse, his cold words reverberating on the air, echoing through his heart. Until this moment, he’d never experienced the shame of being guilty. Oh, he’d been embarrassed when he’d gotten caught, angry even.

  But shame had never slithered through him.

  He didn’t much like the judge’s daughter for making him feel this way.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Amelia stood in the kitchen. Three years ago her father had hired Colleen O’Fallon to take care of the house and cook the meals. But Colleen was much more than a servant. She was also the closest thing Amelia had to a best friend, which was the reason Amelia had decided to let Colleen know about her little plan to reform Jesse. He spoke so little that trying to determine what had motivated him to become an outlaw was going to be impossible when she had to sneak around to talk with him. She needed several hours of uninterrupted time.

  “I’m thinking that you’re playing with fire,” Colleen said. Her accent reflected her homeland of Ireland. She was practically a woman of the world, having traveled here by herself on a large ship.

  Often Amelia felt like a child when she compared her freedom against that which Colleen’s family had granted her. She certainly couldn’t see her father lettin
g her travel across a river by herself—much less across an ocean.

  Amelia watched Colleen bustle around the kitchen putting away the dishes she’d washed after breakfast. With her red hair pulled back into a tight bun, Colleen looked older than her twenty-one years.

  “But you’ll help me, if I manage to pull it off?” Amelia asked.

  Colleen came to an abrupt halt and planted her hands on her hips. “Manage to pull it off? When have you not managed to get your way, I want to know?”

  “Where the outlaw is concerned. Honestly, Colleen, talking with him is like pulling teeth. It takes a lot of effort but you don’t get much for it.”

  “I didn’t think you were supposed to be talking with him at all. If your father finds out about last night—”

  “He’s not going to find out,” Amelia assured her. She knew Jesse wouldn’t tell. And she’d deliberately run into Tanner that morning on his way to the cookhouse. He’d promised not to say anything, although he confessed that he’d been watching them with an eagle eye. He’d also warned her not to approach Jesse again.

  “I know I was a little bad,” she conceded to Colleen. “I wanted to visit with Duchess, and when I saw Jesse standing there I should have come right back to the house, but no harm came out of my talking to him. Except I want to talk with him some more, but I need you to help me with my plan.”

  “All right, I’ll help you, but make a note in that diary you keep that I’ve got strong reservations about this crazy scheme of yours,” she insisted.

  With a delighted smile, Amelia threw her arms around Colleen. “Thanks, Colleen. I promise we’ll have fun.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Colleen said, wiggling out of Amelia’s embrace.

  “You’ll see. Meanwhile, why don’t you start to prepare a picnic basket for later in the afternoon?”

  She winked at Colleen as she headed out the door. “In case I manage to pull off my plan for today, I’ll come back and help you finish after I’ve talked with Papa.”

  Amelia strolled down the hallway toward her father’s library. Each morning before he headed to the county courthouse in Fort Worth, he met with Tanner and her brothers to discuss the day’s work schedule. If she was to succeed with her idea, she needed to catch them before her father adjourned the meeting.