CHAPTER SEVEN

You probably feel the need to judge me for my actions. 'Typical male,' you're thinking to yourself. 'Doesn't get what he wants, so he pretends he never wanted it in the first place.' But let me just say this: I was hurting very badly. When I hurt, I do stupid things. I lash out, I change tactics, I do what needs to be done to save myself every scrap of dignity I can. I don't know if this is typical of all men; it's certainly very typical of Rafferty Nolan.

I had never been in this situation before. I had never loved a woman the way I loved Lou. Before her, women were just lovely people to pass the time with, to flirt with and make love to. I paid no attention to how many broken hearts I left behind me, for no woman ever touched my own heart enough to break mine. I was a rake, a rogue, a cad, whatever you want to call it. I had the utmost respect for women, but I suppose I never really respected their feelings.

Within three days I knew Lou McCloud. Maybe I didn't know her favorite food or her favorite song; I didn't know if she was an early riser or a night owl, hadn't the slightest inkling whether she preferred coffee to tea or Shakespeare to Dickens. I didn't know any of those things. But I knew her.

I knew the care she took in forming her opinions, the humor that lit her from the inside, the compassion she had within her, so deep it could even encompass the man who had taken her away from all she knew and loved. I knew she had a soul of pure goodness, a heart of joy and love, a tenderness that would make any man glad to be alive. So you see why it didn't take me very long to know I loved her. When faced with such a woman, a better man than I would have fallen just as quickly.

I loved her and she didn't love me. She loved another man. It's a story as old as time itself.


"I've not told you about my sister, have I?"

It was later that same evening. The fire was bursting in the fireplace. Lou was sitting in front of it, poking it with the tongs. Her legs were folded underneath her. I was still laying on the couch, letting the life flow back into my body. We had been silent for hours. Now she turned and looked at me, unsure how to respond. "You've mentioned her," she said.

The wind was blowing, but Lou had stopped up all the cracks and crevices in the walls and we were quite warm and snug inside the house. I stared at the ceiling. "Her name was Sara. She was four years older than I was; my big sister. I worshipped her. My mother died when I was very young, so I suppose Sara became my mother in a way." I dared to look at Lou. She was watching me, her head cocked to one side, listening.

"Go on," she said.

I continued, "She was very beautiful. Nut brown hair, pale skin, green eyes."

"Like yours?"

I shook my head. "Darker. Like pine trees. Very lovely. She was a lovely girl. Our father had his hands full keeping the men away. He adored her just as much as I did, but he never cared much for me. I reminded him too much of my mother: her looks, her temper, her likes and dislikes, everything. He didn't like to be reminded of my mother, because he loved her very much, and something inside him died when she did. Sara was my father's daughter and he doted on her. At any rate...when Sara turned 22, she met this man. A man called Todd Stidham." I stopped, remembering. When I spoke again, my voice was hard, angry. "He was rather poor with a shady past. The townspeople all said he was no good. His father had been a gambler and a gun-slinger; they said the apple didn't fall far from the tree and that Todd would end up doing someone harm. But Sara didn't listen, and she married Todd anyway. Despite everyone's protests, even my father's."

I heard Lou draw her breath in. "Go on," she whispered a second time.

"He did do someone harm. He did my sister harm. He was very jealous, and one day she smiled at a man on the street. When Stidham was alone with my sister he..."

Lou moved close to the couch and put her hand on my arm. I took it gratefully. I couldn't draw this story out, it was too painful. "He killed her. Eventually. He beat her to death. Then the truth came out, that he'd been beating her all along. Suddenly it all made sense - the bruises, the cuts, the scrapes. She always had some excuse for them, she'd say she'd fallen or something had fallen on her. She said, 'Oh, I'm just getting so clumsy these days'. I was just a kid, I had no idea what was really going on. I used to tease her about being such a klutz. And then...he killed her. The goddamn bastard killed her."

It was a while before I could go on. I was not ashamed of the tears that fell down my face, only of the story that was to come. "I was eighteen and headstrong. I wanted to challenge Stidham, but I wasn't a good enough marksman."

"Challenge him? Why wasn't he in jail?"

I smiled bitterly. "No proof. Ironic, isn't it?"

"No proof?" Lou exclaimed.

"The judge was a very close friend of Stidham's. He ruled insufficient evidence and Stidham went free. I knew any justice dealt would be up to me. I decided to practice, so that when the time came and I was ready, I could kill him. I practiced for weeks, and then I went to see him. I'd hardly pulled my gun out of the holster before he'd shot me in the leg. I fell down and cried. It hurt so badly, Lou! He just stood over me and laughed. When I got home, my father said I'd shamed him and told me to leave. He said I'd brought disgrace on the family and on my sister's memory. So I left. With no money, no other clothes, nothing. That was almost three years ago."

"And you started thievin'," Lou said quietly.

"Yes. It was a lark, at first, and it happened completely by accident. I was stopped at the side of a road, examining this scratch on my gun barrel. A stage was passing by and my gun accidentally went off. I tried to steady it, and set it off again. The old man driving the stage stopped so suddenly I thought he'd choked one of the horses to death. There were women inside and one old priest. They started screaming and the driver said, 'We're being robbed! Just hand him your goods and I'm sure he won't hurt us.' For a minute I just thought, 'What the hell are they talking about?' Then it hit me, and I said, 'Yes, sir, that's right. Just hand over your cash and your jewelry and I'll be on my way.' I had no idea what I was doing. My heart was pounding, I was scared out of my mind, but excited, too. I took whatever they held out to me, and then I kicked my horse till he ran like hell. A few months later I ran into Harry and he joined me. It's been that way ever since."

Lou sighed sharply, shaking her head. "You oughta be in a castle by now. Where's all that gone to, Rafferty? I don't see any of it. Do you just gamble it away? What purpose does your life serve?"

"I don't gamble," I said. "Most of it I've given away, to women, children, people who catch my fancy. Harry tends to send his half to his sisters and mother; he's very homesick these days. Some of it we keep to pay for food and clothes, just to get by. But most of it we don't keep."

"You are a Robin Hood," she smiled. "But that don't make it right."

I shrugged. "We can't all be noble men, Lou. Everything evens out. There has to be some balance to life. You could say that Kid is my better half in the world." "You underestimate yourself, Rafferty. I told you before there's a lot more to you than this."

"I think I've reached my full potential," I grinned. "'Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.'"

Lou grinned wryly. "You always got a quote for everything, don't you?"

"Twelfth Night. Shakespeare. The man's a treasure trove of quotables."

"I'll take your word for it."

"You really ought to read him, Lou. He's the greatest story-teller who ever lived. The man was pure genius."

"Maybe some day. Right now I've got enough to do makin' my runs and dealin' with a passel of boys who try my patience."

"You could leave now," I said, though it killed me to say it. "You could go, Lou. There's nothing stopping you. Lord knows I couldn't. You could take my horse and go."

"I thought of that," she said, nodding. "After I brought you in here and doctored you up. Once I figured you were gonna be all right, I knew I could leave. I tried to. I got as far as the barn."

"What stopped you?" My heart caught in my throat, waiting for her answer.

"Your horse is dead, Rafferty. When I went in the barn, I found him dead."

It was far from the answer I had expected. My eyes stung with tears, but I fended them off. True I had been fond of Rocky, but after all, he was only a horse. One tear slipped out and slid down my cheek. I bloody loved that horse.

"I know how you must feel. We all get attached to our animals, 'specially our horses. Poor Rafferty." She smoothed my bangs away from my face.

"I'll be all right." I moved away from her touch. She was too close. I wanted to kiss her again. I had to move away.

"Want somethin' to eat?"

"None of that ghastly porridge stuff!"

Lou laughed. "I found some jerky and there's some beans left."

"That'll do."

I listened to her movements in the kitchen as she fixed me the food. What a peculiar turn of events life had taken, all because of one irrational decision. Lou was caring for me as devotedly as if I were a friend.

"Lou?" I asked.

"Yeah?" she called from the kitchen.

"Doesn't any of this strike you as bizarre?"

"Any of what?"

"This -" I waved my hand about in the air. "All of this. You, me, here, talking like two civilized adults instead of the thief and his hostage."

Lou came walking into the living room with a grin. "It'd be pretty strange if I didn't think about it. There you go," she said, handing me the beans. "I've been kidnapped more times than I care to remember, Rafferty."

I looked at her, startled.

"At least two that I can think of right off-hand, and that's more than your average gal. I'm in a dangerous line of work. I've been shot at, blackmailed, threatened and beaten by men and women all over the country. I've learned pretty quick how to judge a man. I can tell the difference between a low-down dirty dog and a man just down on his luck, quicker than you can blink an eye. You're not either one of those, but the moment I...well, 'met' you is probably the best word...from the moment I met you I knew you weren't a bad person. You made stupid decisions, that was for damn sure, but I just knew there was more to you. And then I started talkin' to you, and you started talkin' to me, and it didn't take long for me to figure out you were more than just not a bad person: you're a good person. I won't pretend these circumstances aren't some of the strangest I've been in, but if life's taught me anything, it's to roll with the punches. I go with the flow, Rafferty, and if it's led me to you, well then, so be it."

"Do you believe in fate, Lou?"

"No."

"Neither do I."

"I believe there are choices that lead you to other choices, and that some things just work out for the best. But I don't believe things are meant to be a certain way. Things just are what they are. You have to work at them to make them turn out the way you want them to. If there's somethin' you want, reach out and try to take it. If there's somethin' you gotta say, say it and don't let it eat you up inside for the rest of your life. You can't just sit back and let things happen to you."

"Better to be silent and be thought the fool than to speak out and remove all doubt," I said, in defense of her unknowing attack.

"Dammit, Rafferty, stop hidin' behind other men's words."

"Sometimes, Lou, it's better not to risk yourself by speaking out. Don't you agree?"

"No." She shook her head firmly. "What do you gain by keeping quiet?"

"Dignity. Self-respect. A bit of pride."

"To hell with your pride," she said impatiently. "Life's too short to worry about your pride. As for your dignity and your self-respect, well, in my book speakin' out and bein' honest is the only way to feel dignified and respect yourself.

I smiled at her earnest tone. "You fight the good fight, Lou. No wonder I already love you."

I hadn't meant to say it, it just came out of its own accord. She didn't look surprised or upset. She just smiled back.

"I love you," I whispered.

She rose to her knees and leaned over me, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead. Then she pulled away and met my gaze with her own. "I know you do," she said.