The Outlaws: Rafe (32 page)

No one was stirring in the lobby as she slipped out the door.
 
She heard voices and flattened herself against the building.
 
Hidden from view by deep shadows, she held her breath as two men walked past her.
 
She recognized Rafe immediately.

The man walking behind Rafe held a gun on him!

Angela froze, stifling the scream gathering in the back of her throat.
 
Why had Rafe left their bed?
 
Who was the stranger holding a gun on Rafe?
 
Where were they going?

"I need my saddlebags," she heard Rafe saying.

"Where you're going you won't need a damn thing," the man answered.
 
"I'm good at what I do, Gentry, you'll not escape me."

"I need to tell my wife what happened," Rafe insisted.

"She'll figure it out."

Angela had indeed figured it out.
 
The man with Rafe was the same man they'd seen in the cantina.
 
She'd heard about men like him.
 
They were bounty hunters, men who dealt in human flesh.
 
A shudder raced through her.
 
She glanced at the rifle in her hands and visibly paled.
 
She knew how to aim and fire but wasn't certain she could shoot a man.
 
But there were other things she could do with the weapon, she decided as she hefted it in her hands to test its weight.

She watched, hardly daring to breathe as Rafe and his captor turned the corner, heading for the stables behind the hotel.
 
She followed close behind, hugging the shadows.
 
When both men disappeared into the dark building, she scampered across the open space and crouched behind a bale of hay inside the stables.

A lamp flared.
 
"Saddle up," she heard the bounty hunter order.

She held her breath and watched as Rafe turned around; praying he wouldn't do anything foolish until she'd found a way to help him.

"I'm not going anywhere until I speak with my wife," Rafe insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dudley shrugged.
 
"I'd just soon take in dead man as alive.
 
Less trouble.
 
Don't have to feed a dead man.
 
Now, for the last time, you ain't gonna talk to anyone."

He grabbed a rope from his saddle horn and said, "If you're gonna be obstinate about it I can fix that.
 
"Put your hands behind you.
 
You can ride to Garden City on your belly."

Angela heard Rafe mutter something beneath his breath as the bounty hunter shoved him around and pulled Rafe's hands behind his back.
 
Both men were facing away from her; it was time to act.
 
Taking a deep, steadying breath, she moved from behind the bale and took a step forward, then another, the sound muffled by the straw beneath her feet.
 
She was within striking distance now.
 
She stopped, muttered a brief prayer, and raised the rifle by its barrel.
 
Closing her eyes, she swung it with all her might at the bounty hunter's head.

Rafe saw her shadow outlined against the wall and the breath caught in his throat.
 
He spun around, his expression frozen in a grimace of shock as he stared over Dudley's shoulder.
 
Dudley must have realized something was amiss for he cast a nervous glance behind him.
 
But it was too late.
 
The rifle smashed against his head with deadly accuracy.

Rafe heard a satisfying thud seconds before Dudley hit the ground.
 
Then, somehow, Angel was in his arms, clinging to him, her body quaking.
 
He held her tight, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, the top of her head as his heartbeat skidded to a tolerable level.

"Are you all right?" he asked, holding her at arm's length so he could look at her.

"A little shaken.
 
What about you?"

"I'm fine."
 
He pulled her against him again, loathe to let her go."

"Who is that man?" Angela asked, glancing down at the prone form lying at her feet.

"His name is Clyde Dudley.
 
He's a bounty hunter.
 
One of the best.
 
He identified me from a poster he had in his possession and intended to turn me over to the sheriff in Garden City for the reward.
 
How did you know where to find me?"

"I awakened and found you gone.
 
Something told me you were in trouble so I grabbed your rifle and set out to look for you.
 
I had just exited the hotel when I heard voices and saw you with the bounty hunter."
 
She dragged in a shuddering breath.
 
"I waited until you turned the corner and followed.
 
After that it was just being patient until the right moment to strike arrived."

"I owe you again for saving my skin."
 
He sent her a lopsided grin.
 
"You've got guts, Mrs. Gentry, I'll give you that."

She returned his smile.
 
"What are we going to do with him?
 
He isn't dead, is he?"

"He's still breathing," Rafe said, noting the steady rise and fall of his chest.
 
"Hand me that rope hanging on the wall and I'll tie him up.
 
Then we're going to get the hell out of here.
 
I want to be far away from here before he comes around.
 
Dodge City is the last place he'd think to look for us so I don't think we'll be bothered by him again."

"Do you still want to go to Dodge City?" Angela whispered.

Rafe's face hardened to match his resolve.
 
"I've never been more sure of anything."

They reached Dodge City without mishap.
 
Rafe reined in at the outskirts of town.
 
Not for the first time he questioned his own sanity.
 
Returning to Dodge City, where he would be recognized on sight, had to be one of the worst ideas he'd ever concocted.

He'd thought he had it all figured out.
 
He would simply confront Mr. Wingate and wrest the truth about the robbery from him.
 
Recanting his original story wouldn't be easy for the pompous banker but determination rode Rafe.
 
He had too much at stake to fail.

Rafe saw Angel staring at him with a puzzled look on her face and mustered a heartening smile.
 
"Maybe you should wait here for me."

Angela gave a vigorous shake of her head.
 
"No.
 
You might need me."

"You know what I'm up against, sweetheart.
 
I'm apt to be tossed in jail the minute I'm recognized."

"Will you speak to the banker first?"

"That's my intention.
 
Hopefully I can persuade him to recant his story about the bank robbery before I'm recognized."

"Aren't there any townspeople willing to attest to your character?"

Rafe gave a derisive snort.
 
"Hardly.
 
My brothers and I fought on the losing side during the war.
 
When we returned we were outcasts among the good citizens of Dodge City.
 
Kansas supported the Union, Angel.
 
Our entire family fought for the South.
 
Jess hung up his shingle to practice medicine but no patients showed up."

"The war was over a long time ago, Rafe," Angela reminded him.

"For some people it never ends.
 
I wouldn't be surprised to find it still an issue a hundred years from now."

"Let's turn around before it's too late," Angel urged with growing panic.

"I've come too far to back down."

"Then I'm coming with you."

In the daylight the notorious cow town displayed little of the wild reputation it had earned.
 
The rutted streets were no different from those in any other frontier city Rafe had passed through.
 
The stores and houses basking in the noonday sun seemed peaceful enough but Rafe knew what Dodge City was like once the sun went down and the saloons and streets teemed with cowboys and buffalo hunters vying for space with every kind of criminal known to mankind.
 
Sometimes the violence spilled into the daytime hours, but today everything appeared peaceful.

Rafe rode down the main street and reined in before the town's only bank.
 
"Wait for me," he told Angela.
 
"If you see anything unusual happening, hightail it out of town."

"Unusual like what?" Angela asked.

"You'll know when you see it," Rafe said grimly.
 
He dismounted and handed his reins to Angela.
 
"Wish me luck."

"Good luck, and be careful," Angela called after him.

Luck definitely was
not
with Rafe.
 
He opened the door to the bank and ran headlong into Sheriff Jenkins.
 
Rafe tucked his chin down and tried to sidle past him, but it was not to be.

"Well I'll be damned," Jenkins blustered, clearly stunned.
 
"Look who's come back to the scene of his crime."

He drew his gun and casually pointed it at Rafe.
 
"Looking for more easy pickings, Gentry?
 
It's not gonna to work this time.
 
You're gonna be cooling your heels in jail until the circuit judge comes through again."

"You got me wrong, sheriff," Rafe tried to explain.
 
"I came back to Dodge to clear my name.
 
If I could just speak to Mr. Wingate I'm sure he will clear up this misunderstanding."

Jenkins removed Rafe's gunbelt and slung it over his shoulder.
 
"You'll have your day in court, Gentry.
 
Did you bring your brothers with you?"

"I came alone," Rafe said, deliberately failing to mention Angela.

"Move along," Jenkins said, prodding him into the street.

Angela didn't want to believe what had just taken place at the bank's entrance.
 
What rotten luck!
 
She had to do something, but what?
 
She caught the warning in Rafe's eyes as he passed by and debated for all of five seconds if she should heed it.
 
Caution fled as she quickly dismounted and rushed after Rafe and the sheriff.

"Sheriff, stop!
 
Rafe isn't an outlaw.
 
He returned to Dodge to prove his innocence."

She heard Rafe groan and promptly ignored it.

"And who might you be, little lady?" Jenkins asked.

"I'm Angela, Rafe's wife.
 
Rafe never robbed the bank, it was all a misunderstanding."

"That's not what Mr. Wingate says.
 
Don't know how Gentry hoodwinked a pretty little thing like you into marrying him, him being an outlaw and all.
 
He may have lied to you about his violent past but he can't fool the law.
 
Move aside, Mrs. Gentry, I'm taking your husband to jail."

"Am I allowed to visit him?"

"Dammit, Angel, there's nothing you can do," Rafe chided.
 
"I should have left you back at the Golden Angel."

"Don't see why you can't visit the prisoner," Jenkins said.
 
"Come to the jailhouse later, Mrs. Gentry."

"Is there a hotel in town?" Angela asked.

He gave her an assessing look.
 
"The Dodge House is the best, if you can afford it."

Angela gave him a curt nod.
 
"Thank you."

"I'm sorry," Rafe mouthed as the sheriff led him off.

Angela was sorry, too.
 
Sorry she hadn't been able to turn Rafe away from this folly.
 
Only an innocent man would think he could clear his name by confronting his accuser and shaming him into recanting his lie.
 
Angela had learned the hard way that nothing was a simple as it seemed.

Rafe might be helpless but she wasn't.
 
Squaring her slender shoulders, Angela knew exactly what she had to do.
 
It wasn't going to be easy but she had justice on her side.
 
And love.
 
She loved Rafe too much to see him end his life behind bars.

Angela engaged a room at the Dodge House, had a bath and changed into clean clothing.
 
Then she ordered a meal and ate it in her room.
 
Fortified by the food and fresh clothing, she left the hotel and headed over to the jailhouse.

She spied Rafe the moment she walked through the door.
 
He occupied a cell in a block of cells located at the far end of the room.
  
His head was resting in his hands, as if he were too weary to lift it.