Logan's Outlaw Part 7

Logan stared long and hard at the poster. That was Sarah, all right. "When did you get this?"

"About a week ago."

"Who brought it?"

The sheriff shrugged. "A courier. What's your interest in the matter? You a bounty hunter?"

"Mrs. Hawkins is my wife."

"Oh! Well, Mr. Hawkinsa""

"Name's Logan Taggert. We were married in the Sioux tradition. She didn't feel it was binding, which is why we're not together. In case you happen to run across her, she's about five foot five, a hundred and ten pounds or so, with white-blond hair and brown eyes. If you find her, keep her here. She's mixed up in something and I don't know what, but it's got her on the run."

The sheriff uttered a curse under his breath. "I did see her. She was here. Wearing a brown homespun skirt and a G.o.d-awful hat."

"That was her."

"I b.u.mped into her. She was carrying some pouches, which I knocked loose. I helped her pick them up and she ran off."

"Was she alone?"

"Yep. Looked pretty scared, too."

"Why do you suppose a woman who was wanted by the law stopped by to see the sheriff ?" Logan asked.

"Dunno. Maybe when you catch up to her, you could let me know. Where will I find you if I do hear anything more about her?"

"How far did you say Defiance is from Cheyenne?" Logan remembered hearing Sarah ask the captain at the fort. He'd thought no one went there except to make trouble or visit the lumber camps.

"Defiance. I'll be heading up to Defiance tonight. Send word to the sheriff there."

The sheriff nodded. "You one of the Circle Bar Taggerts?"

Logan didn't immediately answer. It had been a long time since he'd thought of himself as one of them. "Yes, I am." He'd go up to Defiance to find Sarah, but he'd be d.a.m.ned if he'd make a stop at the old homestead to visit his stepfamily. "Mind if I take that poster?"

The sheriff ripped it off the board and handed it to him. Logan folded it and put it in a pocket as he made his way over to the livery. He could take a fresh horse and leave now, but he'd taken a liking to the little mare, given the circ.u.mstances he'd acquired her under. He'd ridden hard to get here. His pony was too tired for the long ride ahead of them. So was he, for that matter. They both needed a brief rest before starting out that evening.

A hostler came over to take his horse. "Did you happen to see a woman come through here yesterday with a horse like this one?"

The hostler gave him a sharp look. "She came through, all right. So did a couple other men, looking for her."

"Who were they?"

"Mister, it's my job to look after horses, not poke my nose in anyone's business. I'll tell you what I told them. She said she was heading down to Denver to take a teaching job."

Sarah tied her pony to the hitching post by a two-story house with a sign out front that read MADDIE'S BOARDINGHOUSE. She knocked on the door. Footsteps sounded inside, then a slightly heavyset woman in her late fifties greeted her.

"Do you have a room available?" Sarah asked.

"I do." She stepped back and let Sarah enter. "I charge a dollar a day. You get three meals and a bath once a week."

"All right."

Maddie led her to a desk with a ledger on it. "How long will you be staying with us, Missa"?"

"Mrs. Hawkins," Sarah said before she could stop herself. Well, too late now. Hopefully by the time her husband's a.s.sociates looked for her here, she would be long gone. "A week." Another seven dollars gone.

Sarah paid for the week in advance and signed the ledger. "Do you happen to know a man named Jace Gage?"

"I do. What's he to you?"

"I was hoping to take shooting lessons from him."

"You in trouble?"

"No. I'm just a widow who would like to know how to protect herself."

"So am I, but I don't feel the need to wear a gun." Maddie gave her an a.s.sessing look. "Jace owns the lumber mill outside of town. He's a family man now. If you're in some kind of trouble, maybe you should take it to the sheriff."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Well then, put your horse up in the stable out back. There's oats in the bin for it. I'll get a sandwich made for you. You look like you've missed a few meals. If you're going to be in training, you'll need to eat more regularly. Where's your luggage? I'll take it up to your room."

"I haven't brought any."

"Not in trouble, huh?" Maddie made a face as she handed over the key. "Second room on the right upstairs. Come to the kitchen when you're finished with your horse." The older woman went down the hallway, muttering about women and trouble coming back to Defiance.

Since she was the only guest at Maddie's that night, Sarah made use of her week's one allotted bath, then washed her clothes. She'd run from the Inter-Ocean without any of her clothes. Someone had been in her room when she'd come back from arranging a ride with a freight team, and it wasn't the maid service.

She should have waited for Mr. Taggert. She knew that now. She needed help. Lots of it. Losing him was the worst of everything that was happening to her. Nothing seemed to faze him. That man could talk a turtle out of his sh.e.l.l, face terrifying Sioux warriors and laugh, then cover her with a blanket and his coat and sleep only when he knew she did. She wished she'd met him before Eugene. Everything would have been so different.

After breakfast the next morning, Sarah followed Maddie's directions to the lumber mill. The day was dry and hot with only a halfhearted breeze to keep the heat from being suffocating. Mr. Taggert's hat blocked the sun from her face and helped with the glare. Though she probably looked ridiculous in it, it made her feel safe, as if it were a s.h.i.+eld. He'd saved her lifea"more than once. A person rarely had occasion to meet a man as brave as he was. No matter what it took, she would find a way to repay the expenses he'd incurred on her behalf.

An hour outside town, she turned down a long drive leading toward the mill. There were several buildings on the compound, the closest of which was a private residence. The Gages' house had a fresh coat of whitewash. The garden was neatly tended. Off to one side was a large vegetable garden surrounded by a white picket fence. She started up the pathway to the house only to stop abruptly when she noticed a huge black dog standing at the top of the steps. He was on full alert. A row of exposed teeth made it appear as if he was smiling at her. But dogs didn't smile. And the angle he held his head showed he wasn't pleased to have a visitor.

G.o.d help her. The beast was huge and quiet. He would mangle her before she could even cry for help. She sent a look behind her, gauging the distance to her horse. The post beside the path's entrance held a bell. She stepped backward very, very slowly. Coming even with the bell, she pulled the cord and sounded the alarm as long and loudly as she could.

The front door burst open and a man came out. He wore simple clothesa"a cotton s.h.i.+rt, a loose vest, and denim trousers. He was hatless. His hair was a sun-bleached brown. His face was open and friendly. He gave a curt order to the dog, which immediately settled down at his feet.

A woman came outside, standing slightly behind the man, holding a little girl. The woman was dressed like a man, except for the flowered ap.r.o.n that covered her from chest to s.h.i.+ns. A young boy came out to stand in front of her. She put her hand on his shoulder, gently restraining him.

"Can I help you?" the man asked. His voice, a harsh whisper, took Sarah aback.

"I'm looking for Jace Gage."

"You found him."

Sarah swallowed reflexively. She should have listened to Maddie. Mr. Gage had a family. She was putting all of them in jeopardy. Now faced with the sight of his wife and children, she feared he would turn her away. He should turn her away.

"Mr. Gage, I need your help."

The woman put her daughter down and said something to her son that caused him to take his sister back inside. Crossing her arms, she came to stand next to her husband.

"What kind of help?" he asked.

"I need to learn how to shoot a Colt revolver."

"Why?"

"I'm a widow. My husband was killed in an Indian raid. I live alone now. I want to know how to defend myself."

The man and his wife exchanged a look. The woman went back inside the house. "Come inside. We can discuss this over a cup of coffee."

She started forward but stopped when she saw the dog look at her with bared teeth again. "Wolfson, stop." The man ruffled the dog's fur. "He won't hurt you. He smiles when he gets excited. He doesn't bark much, unless there's something we really need to pay attention to. Mostly he just grins like a demon."

Sarah approached the house. The man stood back and let her enter first. There was a s.p.a.cious parlor to her right, a large dining room to her left, stairs to the upper floor and a wide hallway straight in front of her. Mr. Gage led the way to the back of the house. They entered a kitchen that clearly was the heart of their home. Two overstuffed armchairs flanked a side table off in a corner of the room beside an open window. White, ruffled curtains wavered in the slight breeze. A rectangular plank table stood in the middle, surrounded by six ladder-back chairs. A ma.s.sive, blue-enameled stove took up most of one wall, and a long counter ran the length of another, ending at the door. The sink was filled with morning dishes sitting in sudsy water beneath an iron-handled pump.

"This is my wife, Leah. I don't think I caught your name out front."

"Sarah Hawkins."

Mrs. Gage set a coffeepot to boil on the stove, then came over to shake Sarah's hand. Sarah met her eyes, instinctively sensing that Mrs. Gage's opinion of her would determine Mr. Gage's level of a.s.sistance.

"Mrs. Gage. How do you do?"

"Please, we don't stand on formality around here. I'm Leah and my husband is Jace. I hope you won't mind if we call you Sarah?"

"No, of course not."

"Have a seat. Tell us what trouble you're in," Jace said, indicating a chair at the table.

"I bought a gun at Fort Buford. I don't know how to use it very well."

"Why did you come to me? Plenty of men know how to use a gun."

"A friend of mine at the fort said you lived here. You were the closest gun expert I knew of. I was hoping you could give me a few pointers. I could pay you ten dollars."

The Gages exchanged a glance. Leah set coffee mugs on the table. Their two children lingered by the back door, curious about the stranger. "Joseph, Elisa, come meet Mrs. Hawkins." Both children did as they were told. Their eyes sparkled with mischief and curiosity. Sarah liked them immediately, and once again she worried about the trouble she might be exposing them to.

"Wow, look at that gun belt she's wearing, Dad." Joseph looked at her. "Do you know how to shoot that gun, ma'am?"

"No."

"My dad does. He can shoot a plate into eight pieces. He can blow the center out of a coin tossed into the air. He cana""

"Son, that's enough. Take your sister outside to play," Jace quietly ordered.

Sarah saw the tension in Leah's face, and couldn't blame her one bit. She hated guns, too. She stood up to take her leave. "Forgive me. I was presumptuous. I should never have come here. Thank you for the coffee. I'm sure you're right. Someone else can teach me how to use the gun. Maddie said I should ask the sheriff."

"You haven't finished your coffee," Leah said.

"Sit down," Jace ordered, his harsh voice brooking no argument. "A woman traveling alone who wants to learn to shoot is a woman in trouble. Why don't you tell us what is going on?"

Sarah couldn't look at either of the Gages. She sat frozen for an instant, then drew her gloves off. Setting her hands flat on the table, she waited for their comments. Neither said a word.

"I was taken captive in a Sioux raid. I lived for a year among Swift Elk's people. The Indians aren't settled. Not at all. It is dangerous living out here. I want to be able to protect myself." She still didn't look at either of the Gages, but she felt the glance they exchanged.

"All right." Jace broke the silence. "We'll start this morning. But I won't allow you to pay me."

Sarah's gaze flew to Jace. His cold blue eyes watched her. She looked at Leah, who offered her a tentative smile. "Jace is the best in the world. He'll have you handling that piece in no time."

A breath broke from Sarah's lungs. Her relief was palpable. "Thank you. Both of you."

A short while later, Jace had checked in with his foreman, and Leah had made arrangements with their housekeeper to watch the children, so both Gages were free to work with her. All three headed out front on their way to an empty pasture off to the side of the house. They'd just gotten to the edge of the yard when a rider came thundering down the drivea"on a horse very like the one Sarah had ridden.

She froze in place. It couldn't be. Surely it wasn't Mr. Taggert riding up the drive! It was! He wore a new hat, tan like the one he'd given her. Several days' growth of beard darkened his jaw. He dismounted and dropped the reins in front of his pony, then walked toward them. His gaze touched each of them, but settled on her. He looked furious.

She'd never been so happy to see anyone in her life. How had he found her here?

"Logan Taggert! As I live and breathe!" Leah exclaimed as she launched herself into his arms. Sarah frowned, wondering how they knew each other.

He caught her up in a tight hug.

Jace folded his arms. He didn't look very pleased to have another man holding his wife.

Leah pulled free and drew Mr. Taggert over to them. "Jace! Logan's here!"

Jace gave him a grudging smile and stuck out his hand. "So, you're the man who sends my wife all those letters. Good to finally meet you."

"All those letters," Leah scoffed. "He writes once or twice a year. If we're lucky."

"Great to meet you, Jace," Logan greeted him. "I gotta say though, I'm disappointed."

"How's that?"

"Thought you'd be able to teach Leah to be more female by now."

Jace laughed. "You might have grown up with my wife, but you don't know her like you thought you did."

"And this is Mrs. Sarah Hawkins." Leah pulled her forward.

The humor left Mr. Taggert's face. An icy wind seemed to sweep around the small gathering. He looked her over in a quick glance, his eyes, his face hardening. "Yes, I know."

"You know each other? How?"

"She's my wife."

That announcement was met with shocked silence. Sarah quickly filled in the silence with, "We're not married, Mr. Taggert."