Stacy Henrie - The Outlaw's Secret

“Are you ready to turn in? If so, I’ll put out the fire.”

Glancing at the flames, she suddenly realized this was the reason she’d been able to write so long—the Texan had kept the fire burning so she could see. Her gaze jumped to his. This wasn’t the only chivalrous gesture he’d performed tonight. He’d given her the blanket that was keeping her warm, too. Perhaps she’d misjudged him earlier, thinking he wasn’t as much of a gentleman as the newspapers touted.

“Yes, I’m finished,” she answered quietly, not wishing to disturb the four outlaws who were sleeping. One of them more loudly than the others. “Thank you,” she added, waving a hand at the fire, “for not banking it sooner.”

He dipped his chin in response and set aside his gun to kneel by the fire. Essie slipped her notebook inside her valise and then positioned it to act as a pillow. Lying down, she shut her eyes and tried to relax. But the hard ground poked through her blanket and into her side. Sleep was likely to be a distant friend for a while longer.

At least her present discomfort wasn’t exacerbated by feelings of fear. She still had her small gun stowed in her boot, so she wasn’t afraid to fall asleep in her present company. Especially with the Texan nearby. Something more than the newspaper compliments made her feel safe in his presence.

And yet even his solid frame watching over everything and everyone couldn’t chase away the doubts that suddenly assailed her—now that the thrill of joining the outlaw group had faded.

What am I doing here? she asked herself for the first time since stepping off the train. Her family would be horrified if they could see her now. Though their shock would likely be followed by exclamations of self-satisfaction. Of course she’d ended up here—a lone woman among wanted thieves, so desperate to cling to her dream of publishing that she’d risk her reputation and her career on a chance. If her other interviews went anything like the one with the Texan had, her life as an author would truly be over.

Tears blurred her eyes as she watched him finish banking the fire. She couldn’t give up—not yet. Clem had been quite forthcoming at supper. Surely the rest of the outlaws weren’t as cryptic as the Texas Titan. Although she suspected Fletcher might be worse. Still, three good interviews and the opportunity to share in a real retreat to a hideout would provide her with more information than she’d ever dreamed of.

Certainly more than Victor Daley ever had.

“Can’t sleep?” The Texan returned to his spot, but instead of taking up his gun again, he pulled a pocket watch from his vest. After checking the time, he rested his elbows on his bent knees.

“Not yet,” Essie replied honestly. She dragged in a full breath of smoke-scented air and blew it out slowly. A few tears made their way down her cheeks, but she no longer felt the urge to give way to sobbing. Her family might not believe her to be strong—and maybe she wasn’t—but God had given her a talent for seeing the good. And that was what she would think about. The not-too-cold evening, a blanket to keep her warm, the brush she’d thrown into her valise that would come in handy tomorrow morning...

“You ever sleep out under the stars?”

She twisted her head to look up at him. “All the time in the summer. I was usually the first one out there, but eventually my brothers and sisters would pile outside to join me.”

He smiled, though even in the dying light, it appeared more sad than nostalgic. “My brother and I slept outside a lot, too.” He shifted his position, the heel of his boot digging into the ground. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Eight.”

His eyebrows shot upward. “Eight, huh? Are you close with any of them?”

Pain lodged inside her chest at the question. “My brother Nils. He’s a year older.”

“Where is he now?”

She turned her gaze to the stars overhead as bittersweet memories filled her thoughts. “He, um, died. Four years ago. He was thrown from his horse.” Her father had wanted to shoot the skittish animal, but Essie had pleaded with him not to exact revenge on the innocent creature. Even while her heart had ripped in two at the loss of her brother.

“I’m very sorry, Miss Vanderfair.”

“Thank you.” She glanced at him, but with his chin lowered, his face was shadowed by his hat. “You lost your mother. I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

While her parents and the rest of her siblings hadn’t championed her dreams of writing as Nils always had, they were still alive and seemed concerned about her welfare. Letters came from the ranch nearly once a week, asking how she fared and when she might return home.

The Texan cleared his throat, though he didn’t lift his head. “It was a great loss. But we pulled through it. At least, one of us did.”

“Your brother didn’t feel her passing as keenly?”

“He did.” His chin rose and he leveled her with a look both intense and regretful. “But he felt like he had to...to...overcompensate. To be father and mother, even if there wasn’t much difference in our ages.”

Essie rose onto her elbow and rested her head in her palm. “I suppose most families have someone like that. Wanting so desperately to protect and care for the others, even if it stifles those they love.”

He frowned. “How does wanting to protect and care for someone stifle them?”

“It does so in many ways.” She sat up and faced him, eager to help him understand what she’d come to see the last three years on her own. “If one is never allowed to stumble about or tread down uncertain paths, that person will likely never reach his or her true potential. They’ll be perpetually stuck in a web of safekeeping that offers no growth because there is no opportunity to learn from trial and error.”

Her impassioned speech was met with stony silence. Essie fiddled with the edge of the blanket, embarrassed. Not for what she’d said but because she’d spoken it to a man she hardly knew.

“You are rather wise for someone so young.”

At that, she laughed outright, then clapped a hand to her mouth, afraid she’d wake the others. She was enjoying their open conversation and suspected it would come to an abrupt end if anyone stirred. “My sisters would be the first to point out that I am far from young. I turned twenty-three this summer.”

Even in the dim light, she caught sight of the full smile he threw her way. And it left her a bit breathless. “Twenty-three sounds young to someone who’s twenty-nine.”

She chuckled. “I’ll remember that.” A breeze swept over the camp, swirling the ash around the fire and shooting a chill up Essie’s spine. Pulling the blanket tighter around her, she lay back down on her makeshift pillow.

“Cold?”

“A little. But it’ll pass soon enough.”

A jacket dropped onto her shoulders and back, bringing welcome warmth. “How are you going to keep out the cold?” she asked, peering up at him.

He settled on the ground once more and hoisted his blanket for her to see. “I’ve got this, when I need it.”

“Thank you.” Essie burrowed into the thick material. No longer as chilled or as uncomfortable as before, sleepiness began to creep over her, but she hoped to keep it at bay. At least for another minute or two. “Can I ask you one more question?”

“Just one?” The teasing note in his deep voice made her smile. “For the rest of the trip?”

“No,” she said emphatically. “One more tonight.”

He pushed out a sigh, though he didn’t sound nearly as irritated as she’d expected. “All right, Miss Vanderfair. One more.”

“This is purely out of curiosity. Your answer won’t go into my book.”