Mistaken Outlaw Read online

  Mistaken Outlaw

  Ginny Sterling

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Also by Ginny Sterling

  Lawfully Freed

  Afterword

  About the Author

  For my Angelique…

  1

  New Braunfels, Texas

  January 1871

  “Please, no! Listen to me!” Jessie Gomez argued vehemently as the five men surrounded her. A sliver of moon shone in the sky above, but she was blinded glaringly by several torches that seemed to wave in her direction in an effort to keep her still. “I didn’t steal the horses! I would never do something so awful as that.”

  “Miss, you were caught red-handed,” one masked man crowed aloud and several others chimed in quickly. She was completely cut off, trapped in a small grove of trees just off the road. She’d been led off road to make camp, thinking she’d be safe with Bill Jackson. It was just the opposite!

  “He handed me the reins!” she cried out desperately and jumped backwards to prevent herself from being burned as a torch was suddenly waved too close to her torso. “Stop that!”

  “For all three horses? Then where’d this disappearing magic man go?” one voice said snidely. The man was chewing a large wad of tobacco and spitting near her foot. She got a good look at him just before he waved the torch again, blinding her.

  “He left me here,” Jessie sobbed angrily, stomping her foot in frustration. Her supposed fiancé had left her there to take the blame. She’d been quite swept off her feet by his rugged good looks and winning smile. She never questioned why he had three horses with him when she came across him in Matamoros.

  Her mother had told her not to follow the man, that he was el diablo, the devil. Jessie didn’t listen. She thought it was another way for her mother to control her life. She’d ridden out that night, having snuck out of her window and met up with Bill Jackson.

  Bill was fascinating to her naïve, young soul. He looked mean and gruff but when he turned to her, he would smile so sweetly. He had claimed to be falling for her. This turned her headstrong mind into mush, causing her to stay complacent and not ask questions. The only time she really went against his wishes was when he tried to force himself on her. She’d crossed herself and told him that she’d be willing if they were married. He’d laughed and handed her the reins, looking over her shoulder and fading into the brush.

  She’d been too stupid to know what a lynch mob was moments ago and now was getting a full lesson in what it entailed. She watched as they eagerly tossed a rope high over a tree branch. This could not be happening to her! Jessie felt her knees go weak as the men closed in around her, armed with pitchforks and guns.

  She was trapped!

  “You have to believe me! His name is Bill Jackson. Black hair and brown eyes, about this tall,” she said, holding her hand above her head. She hated that her hand shook with fear. She could see in their expressions that it didn’t matter what she said, they’d simply decided to hang her as a horse thief.

  “There ain’t no man here that fits that description and Mr. James will be wanting his horses back real quick tonight,” the tall, thick man drawled out. He was simply disgusting and made her skin crawl. There was something about his eyes that told her that if they didn’t hang her, there would be more problems to be had from this man alone.

  “Mr. James is welcome to them!” she said hurriedly, glancing around at the others trying to take measure of her situation. If there was any chance of escaping out of this mess, she was struggling to find it. It was beginning to look hopeless, as they kept moving and weaving about her. The torches came awfully close several times. She could see her breath as it escaped her mouth in little pants of fear. Small, icy clouds drifted upwards into the night.

  “Missy, you ain’t understanding what I am saying. We don’t cotton to horse thieves in these here parts. If we find one, we hang ‘em so they never steal again.”

  “But I didn’t steal them,” she whispered, horrified. There would be no leniency or tolerance from any of these men. They’d convicted her before she’d said a word. Clasping her hands together, she closed her eyes and began to pray. She repeated several Hail Marys and tried not to notice the pitchforks that jabbed at her skirts and the torches that kept getting closer. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw that noose glowing in the light like some foul beast breathing down her neck.

  “Give the signal, Virgil, so Mr. James can meet up with us.” A massive shotgun blast went off beside Jessie’s head, causing her to jump and a riot of screaming began all at once.

  “You damned fool! You aim in the air!”

  “You shot the horse!”

  “Get the other two - quick!”

  “I didn’t know! You said to give the signal?”

  Jessie cracked open an eye at the chaos and saw that, indeed, the horse she’d ridden, a pretty, white mare, lay on the ground bleeding and struggling to get up. Her heart broke at the sight. But what she also saw was that there was a gap between the pitchforks to her right!

  Wasting no time and taking advantage of the mess around her, Jessie grabbed her skirts and ran like the devil was on her heels! She could hear yelling behind her as the branches tore at her hair and face. She would not slow down at all and plunged into the dark night wildly, running for her life. She darted back and forth, running until her chest burned with exertion. But she didn’t dare stop. She could hear the voices in the distance closing in and she knew that if they caught her, she would be dead. Breaking through the trees, she found herself wading through the icy waters of a creek. She didn’t know where she was going and had no real destination other than here! The cold water came up to her waist and, still, she did not stop her progression forward.

  “Please, God, give me a sign!” she whispered aloud and exited the creek, her body trembling with fear and hypothermia. Ahead of her in the distance, she saw an abandoned barn and headed that way. If she didn’t take cover from the cold night, she wouldn’t have to worry about a noose. Her gown clung to her, her thick skirts were slowing her down and making her even more chilled. She had to hide!

  Exiting the grove of trees and brambles, she saw that the barn was not abandoned, but in need of repair. She pulled the heavy door open and saw that several horses were in the first few stalls. The irony of an accused horse thief taking shelter in a horse barn was not lost on her. Her teeth chattered painfully as she wrapped her arms around her waist. She made her way to the back of the barn and hoped that the horses would not be disturbed by her presence. Opening the wooden door to a stall, she saw the pile of fresh hay and buried herself under it in an effort to keep warm during the night and to hide.

  Early the next morning, Jason McNeely prepared to ride into town. He was a clerk at the mercantile in New Braunfels and had inherited his uncle’s farm about two years ago. It was just after his wedding to Sarah. And now all he saw were things that reminded him of her. She’d passed away from pneumonia one night about a year ago. Pushing his spectacles up on the bridge of his nose, he put on his coat and headed towards the barn. There was a northerner due to come through sooner or later and he would need to get supplies while he was at work today. He enjoyed working at the mercantile. There was always something new to see and friendly faces. It kept him from being alone at home and gave him a steady income since he hadn’t made any move to raise cattle or horses like his uncle had.

  Walking to the barn, he saw that the door was slightly ajar and stopped in his tracks. Curious, he wondered if he’d left it open. That wasn’t like him. He may not raise horses, but he depended on them to get into town every day. It was quite a long walk. And while he didn’t mind the walk, if he was in a hurry to open the store, the horses were much faster. Pushing open the heavy, wooden door to the side, he glanced inside and saw all was in its place. Maybe he had left it open carelessly.

  “Hello?” he called out watching his breath form fog from the cold temperature.

  Jessie’s eyes flew open at the sound of a man’s voice. She didn’t move but lay there shivering inside the hay stack. She was warmer than she had been outside, but her fingers and toes ached something fierce from the freezing temperature. Everything hurt right now. She’d never known this pain before or this fatigue.

  “Hello? Anyone there?”

  Slowly, she extended her arms and legs to see if she was able to run away again. Her body was cramped and trembling horrifically. Her hands were balled in fists and her teeth made an uncontrollable clicking sound. Try as she might, there would be no running this time. She was caught for good. Her skirts were frozen stiff around her and her body wasn’t cooperating. Is this what dying feels like? she thought wretchedly and closed her eyes painfully.

  “Dear God!” she heard whispered faintly in a deep voice. Struggling, she cracked open an eye only to see the face of an angel watching her, concerned. There was such openness and pity in his green eyes that she began to cry, burning hot trails down her frozen cheeks.

  “Come on, let’s get you inside,” he said gently as he knelt beside where she lay. He quickly took off his coat and put it on her, wrapping her inside. “Can you stand up?”

  Jessie shook her head ever so slowly making her neck hurt.

  “Shhhh. I’ve got you,” he whispered encouragingly and picked her up, cradling her body wrapped in his coat. He carried her out of the barn and towards a small house that had smoke seeping from the chimney. He managed t
o open the door, only slightly jostling her but she didn’t care. If she was near a fireplace, she’d be warm. At this point, she never imagined she would ever be warm again. She felt frozen down to the bone. He set her down on a bed in the corner of the one-room house. The angel then covered her up with several quilts.

  “Hold tight while I get a bedwarmer for your feet,” he said sympathetically. Jessie didn’t care, the clenching and unclenching of her frozen body was painful. It was the start of warmth from the blankets that kept her sedate and prevented her from crying out in pain. There was hope in the fact that blankets would warm her eventually. She felt the edge of the blanket lifted and a hot pan slid near her wet leather boots. As if he could read her mind, she felt her shoes being removed and the warmth of the bedwarmer burned at her chilled skin.

  “Drink this,” the man’s voice ordered softly, and she tried to comply. She spilled a bit as her teeth chattered of their own volition. It wasn’t as violent a chattering as before and the pungent taste of the alcohol burned a trail down to her stomach from the inside. Sighing, she felt her limbs start to relax a bit from the wintry weather she’d been exposed to all night.

  A chair was scooted close to the bed as she lay there savoring the heat near her feet. Glancing up, she watched him carefully, wondering if he was planning on turning her in to the authorities. If it was the same goons as last night, she was still a dead woman whether it was exposure or a noose.

  “Why were you in the barn?” he asked gently. Jessie didn’t want to answer. She only stared at him from where she hid under the blankets. “Do you want to talk about it?” he questioned, and she shook her head no. She felt tears welling up again.

  “Shhhh. You are safe here. I am going to have to get to work. But I want you to stay here and warm up. It’s too cold out for you to be out there with no coat. I have stew over the fire and we’ll talk over dinner, okay?”

  Why was this man being so nice to her? He stood up and smiled politely down where she lay, his green eyes kind behind the glasses on his face. “Just rest and I will be back soon.” Grabbing his coat, he put a scarf around his neck and walked out the door.

  Jessie was stunned that the man was so trusting to leave her there at his home. Her body was in no condition to move anytime soon and the warmth of the pan at her feet kept her in place. Shutting her eyes, she slept.

  2

  Jason rode his horse quickly into town. He was running behind opening the shop and it was all due to a beautiful, frozen urchin he’d found. He prayed she would be all right there alone but there wasn’t much he could do for her, other than warm her up. Her eyes looked so haunted and scared, making him feel awful. The poor girl had scratches all over her face and neck from where she looked like she’d run straight into a thorn bush.

  He would pick up more than a few supplies today on his way out, making a mental list of what she would need as well. She looked to be about Sarah’s size and he thought that maybe she could use some of Sarah’s old dresses that he hadn’t been willing to get rid of yet. He would need ointment for her scratches and perhaps other things, but his mind was drawing a blank. It didn’t make sense. She was a beautiful young lady, dressed in a coarsely-made gown. She looked so frightened and it really bothered him.

  He knew he was soft on the inside. His wife, Sarah, had always teased him about how “he’d never met a stranger” and honestly, he was okay with that assessment. Jason had never considered himself a great catch for Sarah. In fact, he’d been surprised when she’d talked to him first. He’d found himself quite tongue-tied when the prettiest girl in town had singled him out at the church picnic. He’d fallen in love that day with her smile. It was one of the things he missed most about her, the way she seemed to light up a room.

  Those had been dark days after her death and he’d taken solace in the mercantile and attending church. Now, he felt like he was on the verge of being tested again and wasn’t sure what to do next. Everything in him said to help the poor woman. It seemed like the Christian thing to do to help the woman out. What was he supposed to do? Leave her there to freeze to death in his barn?

  He began cleaning up the shelves and found himself glancing out the windows, watching the world go by as he stared from the other side of the glass. He saw the families walk by, the smiles on their faces. He felt a knot form in his stomach at the loss of Sarah and what could have been. Shaking his head to wipe away the memories, he glanced around slowly looking for some sort of sign that there would be more for him someday.

  Wrapping up the day, Jason rang up his purchases and bundled them up inside an oval pail that hung easily on the pommel of his saddle. A sprinkling of snowflakes started to drift down from the sky, sticking to his eyelashes. He prayed that the woman had taken heed to his offer and remained in the warmth of the house. If she had left, he hoped she made it to her destination. He didn’t worry so much about her taking anything, for he felt like he hadn’t much to take. The house was worn, but comfortable. His most precious gift was a rifle that his uncle had hung above the mantel. If the woman had needed to take the gun, he would hope it would protect her. It was as simple as that.

  He arrived home and saw that smoke was still coming from the chimney. Thank goodness, he thought. She could use the heat of a steady fire to help thaw out. He’d learned early on to bank the fire carefully, so it still simmered when he returned. He led the horse back to the stall and brushed it down, giving it a large share of oats. He fed the other two mares and moved to check the other stalls, just in case. Seeing nothing, he walked the worn path to his home. At the door, he hesitated momentarily feeling he should probably knock and then decided against it.

  As Jason opened the door, he saw that the young woman was sitting in a chair by the fireplace. She was still wrapped in a quilt. Her dark eyes looked haunted and afraid as she stared at him warily.

  “Are you feeling warmer?” he asked simply, setting the pail that held his things onto the floor. He then moved to hang his coat on a peg near the door.

  “Yes,” she replied. Her voice sounded almost hoarse.

  “Are you up to having dinner? It smells good.”

  At her hesitant nod, he smiled easily and grabbed two bowls. He stepped past her in order to reach the fireplace and noticed that when he’d walked near, she tensed up. Strange. It was like she was scared of him. He handed her the small, wooden bowl and moved to prepare his own. Stepping back, he took a seat nearby, not far from where she sat. She watched him for several minutes as he took a few bites as if they were sizing each other up. She was assessing potential danger and he was simply trying to find out how a strange, beautiful woman ended up here.

  “Are you going to eat up?” Jason finally asked, trying to fill the stillness. She had not taken a bite as of yet, watching him. Finally, hunger got the better of her and she took several large bites causing him to smile. “It’s good, but not that good. Take your time, Miss. There is plenty here.”

  “Thank you,” she said simply.

  “You are very welcome.”

  They ate in an awkward silence. Only the hollow sounds of their utensils hitting the sides of the wooden bowls echoed in the house. Jason wasn’t sure how to proceed or get her to talk. He was curious how she’d come to be in the barn and where she was from. She was quite lovely now that she was thawed out a bit. When he’d first found her, her skin was almost greyish in color and her dark brown eyes looked black in her face, burning with fear and intensity. She’d been afraid, but she was a fighter deep down inside. He could see a spark in her eyes.

  “My name is Jason. Jason McNeely. And you are?”

  “Jessie.”

  One single word. No hints, no information other than her name. He assumed she was running or hiding from someone. “It’s very nice to meet you Jessie. I know you are probably a bit chilled still and your boots were extremely wet. I imagine from the creek over yonder. I have a few things that you are welcome to, if they fit you.” When she didn’t answer, he got another ladleful of stew and filled her bowl again without her asking.