ten

Susannah nodded, an angry look on her face. “These are the men who tried to rob me years ago! But I had them arrested!”

By now, all the men had stopped what they were doing and had gathered around her. To Bobby, it seemed that she took great pleasure in seeing their discomfort!

“I can’t believe it! It is her,” one of them said in disgust.

The boss narrowed his gaze on her and pointed his gun in her direction. “Because of your never-ending chatter, we spent two years in jail! You ’bout got us hanged!” he charged.

“You should have been hanged! How in tarnation did you get out of jail in two years’ time? I thought you all were in there for at least thirty years!”

The one standing beside him laughed evilly. “It was no thanks to you! We escaped, you red-headed shrew!”

“Susannah, what is going on here? How exactly did you manage to have these men arrested?” Bobby asked curiously. If he wasn’t so scared that they would shoot him, the whole thing would be hilarious.

“I’d like to hear that myself,” Nigel piped up.

Susannah folded her arms as she continued to glare at the boss. “You might say I distracted them,” she answered evasively.

The outlaw who’d been holding the gun on them spoke up. “Ha! I’d say she distracted us, too. Pert’ near talked our ears off, is what she did! And while we was trying to get her to shut up, one of the other passengers was able to run off and get the law!”

“We was making perty good money until she messed things up!” another man exclaimed.

To his utter amazement, his wife, the teacher, shook her head in disgust. “We were, not we was! Didn’t any of you boys go to school?”

Sweat was beginning to break out on Bobby’s brow. Had the heat of the sun made her delirious? “Susannah!” he hissed again.

Susannah turned to him with a comforting smile and patted him on the arm. “Don’t worry, dear. These men aren’t going to hurt us. I don’t think they have the nerve to shoot us. Why, they had ample opportunity to shoot me last time, and frankly, it would have saved their hide if they had! But they are simply too nice to shoot anybody!” she explained with a carefree shrug.

Feeling helpless to do anything, Bobby looked at the outlaws, whose faces showed more and more anger with everything she said. “Uh. . .please forgive my wife. She’s been. . . unwell lately. She doesn’t realize what she’s saying,” he said to the outlaws. Then he grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him. “Will you stop? You’re making them mad.”

The boss started laughing, which caused all his fellow outlaws to join in. “She’s your wife?” They all laughed. “You have my sympathies!” More laughter.

Bobby felt like he was a player in one of those crazy traveling comedy plays that had come through town a time or two. Nothing was making sense.

Then his wayward wife looked up at him with her big green eyes and whispered, “I’ll prove to you they’re cowards!”

Then she pulled away from him before he could yank her back. “Quit your laughing and just leave!” she announced, throwing up her hands. “You are not going to get my jewelry or anything else!” She grabbed the bag that held her and Nigel’s things and tossed it back to Nigel.

Bobby felt a horrible foreboding as he looked at the leader. He walked over to her and stood so close that she could probably feel him breathing on her. But she didn’t moved. The crazy woman just stood there!

Well, he’d finally had enough. He went to grab her again, but the barrel of a gun was poked in his chest, stopping him.

The outlaw holding the gun shook his head. “Despite what she says, I’m not afraid to shoot.”

Bobby wasn’t willing to chance it. He still had the gun; he just had to figure out a way to use it.

And he prayed that they wouldn’t hurt her.

“Is that so?” the boss sneered in Susannah’s face. “You expect us to just run along like a pack of cowards?”

“Yes, I do!”

Without warning, the man grabbed Susannah around the waist and threw her over his shoulder.

Bobby Joe sprang into action. He knocked the barrel of the gun in his chest out of his way and ran toward them. Bobby Joe reached them as a shot rang out; he felt himself propelled sideways. Dazed, he could do nothing but stare up at the sky. All he knew was that the side of his head was aching.

Above him he heard Susannah scream, and then his pocket watch was pulled out of the front of his pants and yanked from its chain. He tried to reach up, but he couldn’t focus, his head was hurting so badly.

Then all he heard was the sound of horses galloping away and a lot of whoops and hollers from the outlaws.

He closed his eyes as the pain begin to subside. He tried to clear his thoughts.

“Is he dead?” he heard the driver ask.

“No, he’s breathing,” Nigel answered. “I’m just trying to see how bad the wound is.” Bobby felt him probing around the source of his pain, just above his left ear.

He moaned when Nigel hit a sore spot. “It appears to be merely a flesh wound. It grazed his head, but the impact of the bullet knocked him over and stunned him.”

“Mr. Aaron! Mr. Aaron, sir, can you hear me?” someone called out above his prone body. He felt someone gently slapping him on the cheeks.

Bobby was finally able to open his eyes, and he was relieved to find out that his vision wasn’t as blurry as it had been. “I’m. . .I’m all right. Just help me up.”

With the aid of Nigel and the driver, they helped him into a sitting position. “Take it easy. You don’t want to pass out,” Nigel warned, pressing a handkerchief to his head.

Bobby reached up to take the hankie so that he could see how badly he was bleeding. The rag was covered with blood, but not soaked—a good sign. He pressed it back in place and looked around him.

Then he remembered what had taken place before he’d been shot. “Where’s Susannah?” he asked, panic rising in his chest.

“Oh, dear!” Nigel cried as he looked at the driver. “They took her, Mr. Aaron. They didn’t take anything else, just her. Rode off into those woods over there, they did!”

“I’ve got to go after them!” he called out as he jumped to his feet, wincing as a rush of pain jarred his head.

“I don’t think you’re up to it, old boy. Why don’t you rest in the coach while the driver takes us to the nearest town, which is. . . ?”

“Wiseville. There’s a doctor by the name of G. T. Wise there who can fix you right up. His brother is the local law. They’ll see to finding your wife,” the driver supplied.

But Bobby shook his head. “Nigel, if you can find something to bandage up my head, I’ll be able to move better. I’ll go looking around in those woods. They’re probably camped out somewhere in ’em.” He looked at the driver. “Take the coach to Wiseville and let that lawman know what’s happened.”

“But. . .but this is ludicrous!” Nigel stammered as Bobby stumbled over to the coach. He reached in and pulled out his saddlebags.

“I’ve got to find her, Nigel. I don’t want her hurt!” He pulled out a bandanna and wrapped it around his head, tucking the blood-soaked handkerchief snugly underneath.

“But you’re not well, man! You’ve had a nasty blow to the head! And besides, they have guns!” the earl argued.

“So do I.” Bobby reached behind his back and pulled out his pistol.

Nigel sighed. “Well, good luck, sir. Just try to keep from being shot again, will you?”

Bobby smiled grimly, then winced when that action sent a jolt of pain through his head. “Thank you,” he managed.

He started off toward the woods, each footfall jarring his wound. But he was determined to ignore the pain and find his wife.

His wife. No matter what she’d done to him, no matter how badly she had deceived him, he still thought of her as his wife.

He should be planning how he would ring her neck when he got her back, but he couldn’t. All he could think of was holding her close in his arms and never letting her go.

But of course, he would let her go. There was no future for them. When they arrived in Charleston, he would leave her at her father’s home.

That would be that.

That thought should have made him happy, but it didn’t. It only made him feel sorry. Sorry that she’d lied to him. Sorry that he couldn’t forgive her.

He knew the Scriptures. He knew that Jesus had asked his followers to forgive seventy times seven times. He’d done things in the past himself that others had forgiven him for. But every time he thought about her scheming to take his daughter away from him, his anger would renew itself.

He prayed as he walked and searched for a trail. He prayed that God would forgive him for his unforgiveness. But most of all, he prayed that Susannah would be unharmed and safe—and that God would lead him to the gang.

He would never forgive himself if he failed to find her.

❧

Susannah sat on the dirty ground as Durwood Dobbins, one of the three brothers for whom the gang was named, tried to make a fire. The other brothers were Dugin, the boss, and Dustin, the youngest of the three. The other two outlaws—Bodin and Butch—were friends of the brothers. She didn’t know their last names, but did know that the two of them also were brothers.

All of the gang had a rough, unkempt appearance. Their hair was short, but it looked as if they’d cut it themselves—with a dull knife! Their teeth were yellow, and they had the foulest breath she’d ever had the misfortune of experiencing. Their clothes were filthy, and the way they scratched, they must have been crawling with fleas.

They had led her to the camp, which was a short walk from where the holdup took place. Pushing her to the ground, they’d tied her hands in front of her with an old rope. Apparently they were inept at tying a rope; five minutes after they’d snugged the knot up tight, her hands were free. She kept them folded down in her skirts, pretending she was still tied.

Of course, all of this was done while she cried. She just couldn’t seem to help it. And she wasn’t a quiet, gentle crier, either. Oh no! She’d always had the nasty habit of wailing loudly.

Right now she felt as though she would cry forever. They’d killed her husband. And she let them know she wasn’t happy about it. . .all the way to the camp.

She bellowed that they’d taken away the love of her life and that they’d murdered a father, leaving his only child an orphan. She blasted them for finally becoming tough outlaws, when always before they’d merely been blustering cowards. Why did they have to begin their murderous ways today, with her husband?

Only Durwood was with her now. All the rest had disappeared into the woods.

“How could you?” she wailed. “How could you murder my husband? He was only trying to help me!” She gave up the pretense of being tied up and covered her face with her hands.

“Awww, I ain’t the one who shot ’im!” Durwood whined. “It was Butch that done it. And I was sure it only grazed ’im anyway.” He reached over and pulled her hands off her face and wound the rope back around them. “Now quit your cater-wallin’ and boo-hooing! You’re givin’ me a headache!”

“No, I won’t quit crying, and it’s just too bad that you’re getting a headache,” she threw back at him in a quavering holler as she easily untied the rope. “I’m a widow, thanks to you!”

Durwood held his head between his hands, a pained expression on his face. “I’ve had it! Just sit still while I go and find somethin’ to gag you with!”

Tears continued to fall as she watched Durwood disappear into the woods. She looked back at the firewood and noticed that he hadn’t even managed to start the fire.

These men are so inept, she thought, as she slipped her husband’s pocket watch—which she’d carefully removed from Durwood’s pocket—into her own pocket.

But even in the midst of her hysterics she realized an opportunity when she saw one. After wiping her eyes, she pulled herself up and began walking away from the camp, retracing the path through the woods that the outlaws had followed when they had brought her to their camp.

She’d walked only about a yard or so when a man appeared from behind a group of trees.

To her utter amazement, it was Bobby Joe with a bandanna tied around his head.

“You’re not dead!” she squealed as she started to run toward him.

“Susannah. . . ,” she heard him whisper, his voice full of happy relief. He began running toward her.

He grabbed her up in his strong embrace, whirling her around in jubilation.

“Oh, honey, I thought I’d lost you. I don’t know what I would have done if. . .” He shook his head as he put her down and stared at her intensely. Then he pulled her close and kissed her. It was a desperate kiss. A kiss filled with relief that he’d found her alive and joy that he had her once again.

She also sensed his love mixed as she felt his hands smooth her hair, and his lips softly caress her own, then trail off to leave tiny kisses all about her face.

He loved her! She could feel it in her heart. Maybe he had forgiven her. Maybe he wouldn’t be angry with her anymore.

Then he pulled back, and she looked up into his eyes once more.

Boy, had she ever been wrong!