The Outlaw's Bride

“I have enough from my eggs and butter to cover what flour I need at the general store,” she said readily. “I’m well aware that the man takes advantage of me, but as long as my needs are met, I can afford to be generous.”

“Is your neighbor married?”

Her eyes widened again at his query and she nodded quickly. “Of course, with several children. He has a profitable operation.”

“And is he a gentleman?” His gaze pinned her and he watched as his meaning struck home.

She shifted her gaze, her lip trembling as she sought a reply. “He hasn’t had much choice. I won’t put up with any shenanigans.”

“You’re a woman alone, Debra. You’re in danger of his shenanigans, no matter that you have a gun and a lot of spunk.”

She was silent for a moment and then her words told of the fear she lived with. “I’m careful. Usually,” she inserted, as if she thought of her rash behavior last night, when she’d stumbled into danger in her own kitchen.

“If your neighbor knows you have a man here, he might not be so eager to take advantage of you.”

“And he might spread the word around town that the Indian has taken a man into her bed.” She spoke the words in a rush, as though she’d already considered the idea.

“And would that be difficult for you to live with?”

“Only if I plan on buying from the general store and being made welcome in town. A woman alone is always under scrutiny, with men waiting for her to make the wrong move. I can’t afford to leave myself open to public scorn. I walk alone, and I have to watch every move I make.”

“Well, your neighbor might be more amenable to a fair division of your hay if I’m out there in the field doing your share of the work. You can tell him you’ve hired a man to help out.”

“And ruin my name in town? I don’t think so.”

“You’ll let him take advantage of you instead?”

“It’s the price I pay for being what I am.” Her tone was one of a woman beaten down by circumstance, and Tyler could not countenance it.

“You’re a woman alone, a woman who should be given the respect due her.”

“I’m a half-breed.” Her words were spoken firmly, as if they were familiar to her.

“And I’m a white man, which makes me neither better nor worse than you. You are a woman, first and foremost, Debra. Was your mother white? Or your father?”

“My father. He owned this place, and brought my mother here when they married. When he died, she took the deed with her. He’d made it out to me, and it was my legacy after my mother was gone.”

“How long have you been here alone?” And how had she survived? How had a young woman alone been able to cope with the running of a farm?

“Three years, since I was sixteen. It hasn’t been simple, but I’ve managed to support myself. And now I have the beginnings of my herd of horses.”

“Where did you get the mares?”

“Bought them from a man who sold his place and moved farther west. He had too many animals to take along, and gave me a good price on the three out back. One is already bred.”

“I can see that.” He looked out beyond the corral line she’d drawn in the dirt, out to where the meadow grasses grew and flourished. Where one of her mares stood apart, her sides bulging a bit with the foal she would drop months from now. She might one day have a herd of horses if luck was with her and the mares she cherished produced colts and fillies of merit.

“Have you thought of expanding? Buying more horses?”

She laughed, a short, sharp sound that scorned his idea. “And what would I use for money? Horses are expensive. I was fortunate to get the ones I already have.”

“Where did you get your mare? The one you ride.”

“I brought her with me from the tribe. She’d been running wild and I caught her and tamed her for myself. Then after my mother was gone, I left and came back home, brought the mare with me.”

“You tamed her?”

Her chin tilted and a look of pride lit her eyes. “Yes. The finest day of my life was when I got up on her back and rode away from the village of my mother’s people.”

“They weren’t your people?”

She tossed him a look of scorn and disbelief. “I don’t fit there, any more than I do in town. I’m an outcast, Tyler, as you well know. I don’t have a place in this world, but the one I make for myself.”

“Will you take my help, Debra Nightsong? Will you let me give you a hand, and work for my keep for a while?”

“Why?” It was a single word that asked for more than he was willing to give.

“Maybe because I’m an outcast, too.”

She gave him a measuring look. “Are you? Or are you on the run?”

“You might say that. There are those who’d like to find me, and if I can find a safe place for a while, I’d be more than happy to earn a few weeks of peace.”

“Should I ask who is looking for you? Or am I better off not knowing?”

“Just know that I mean you no harm, Debra.” And with that she’d would have to be satisfied, he thought. For knowledge of his past would only frighten her, perhaps put her in danger.

“I’m foolish, I fear,” she said slowly. “But I’m smart enough to know that your help would benefit me greatly.” She inhaled deeply and let the breath escape slowly. “I’ll take a chance on you. You can stay, I’ll give you your safe place for a while, and you’ll work for me.”

His hand shot out, silently asking her to take it, to seal their bargain, and she responded as he’d thought she would. Her slender fingers formed to his palm, and he held them there, firmly, yet carefully, as he might shelter a small, helpless creature in his grasp.

But the woman who met his look with a level gaze of her own was not a creature who would ask for anything but what was due her. Respect, first and foremost. A measure of friendship, perhaps an honest day’s work. He could do all of that. So long as she understood that the rules were his to make, hers to follow.

“I’ll be staying in the house with you,” he said firmly. “You’ll not put up a fuss about me sharing your home. And I’ll be sleeping in your bed.”

She was silent, as though she accepted his terms, and then her head turned and he met the challenge in her gaze. “I’ll not be tied to you at night, nor will I let you touch me during the day.”

It was almost a dare on her part, for she lacked clout, and they both knew it. He was stronger by far, she perhaps more devious, but without the power to make him abide by her wishes.

“I won’t tie you, Debra, and I’ll keep my hands to myself. That far I’ll go, not because I fear your knife or your skill with a gun, but because I respect you. Does that suit you?”

She nodded, slowly, but with a definite acceptance of his terms. “If you build my corral and set posts for a pasture fence for me, I’ll give you a place to stay and cook for you.”

His nod was a tacit approval of her terms, and he breathed more easily. Staying one step ahead of the man who followed him had been nerve-wracking. A respite would be welcome.

“Who are you hiding from?” Debra asked, as if the question had been fermenting in her mind and now begged to be spoken aloud.

If he expected her to give him refuge, he owed her an explanation, Tyler decided. “I killed a man.” It was the truth so far as it went, and he watched as she digested his words, her eyes widening a bit, her mouth forming a soft “Oh” of surprise.