Page 7 of The Outlaw and the Heir

"You're not exactly going to find prime picks here, James," the sheriff muttered. "These three are the least starved and troublesome we've got."

"Then why are they beat up?" the younger man asked, his eyes settling on me as he looked over my face and the healing busted lip. "Some worse than others."

"You can't lock men like this up together without a few scraps," the sheriff said, not sounding sorry in the least.

I grinned at the younger man, remembering my silent promise to be quiet, and gave a little shrug. It wasn'tmyfaultthe two men had come out of that fight worse than I had. Well, okay, I supposed technically that was my fault, as I’d been the one doing the most damage and avoiding what they were trying to do to me. That wasn't quite the same thing as it being all my fault that they were angry men who thought that between the two of them, they could take me. They hadn't been the first to underestimate me, and life had already taught me they wouldn't be the last.

The younger man scowled at me as he dropped his voice. “Dad?—"

"I know," his father said, his piercing gaze resting on me for a few beats longer than the other two. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Then again, I didn't know what all this was about. For all I knew, these two were only here to watch us get dragged out of our hole and blink up at the sun in confusion. "But we don't have much choice. Take what the Lord gives you and be grateful for the chance."

I didn't know whatthatmeant, but it sounded pretty insulting for the three of us. I wasn't sure what God had to do with the situation, and if the doubtful look on the younger man's face was any indication, I wasn't alone in that. Still, it seemed smart to keep my opinion to myself. Not because I cared about their feelings or patience butbecause something significant was going on,and I wanted to figure it out.

"Could always go to West Mesa," the younger man muttered. "Bound to find plenty?—"

"That'll take too long. You should know that," the older man said sharply, and Ialmostfelt bad when he followed up with, “You're smarter than that, Ambrose, so act like it."

Ambrose took the criticism stoically, but there was no missing the flash of pain that crossed his features before he bowed his head and stepped back. Unbelievably, when his eyes met mine, I saw a wave of anger that felt like it should havescorched the fuzzy patches of hair that had grown during my luxury stay. Clearly, he wasn't a fan of someone witnessing his exchange with his father, and with a Dad that harsh, I couldn't blame him, but it wasn't like I had anything else to watch.

"And," the sheriff added after a moment, clearly unfazed by the family drama happening around him, "you'd be doin' me a favor. A big one."

"I owe ya," the older man said with a grunt. "And an Isaiah remembers what they owe."

"If that's how you wanna look at it, be my guest, James," the sheriff said with a twitch of his mustache. "Will they do?"

"Not so sure about that one," James said, nodding toward Knocked Stupid. "Looks about ready to fall over at any moment."

Which wasn't wrong. Knocked Stupid wasn't looking so great despite having been awake for a bit. He was swaying a little and didn't realize what was happening around him. That, or he was just really good at pretending he wasn't doing so great. If that was the case, he was a better actor than I was.

All eyes turned to Knocked Stupid, who was either a phenomenal actor who should have answered his calling or was so oblivious because of his head wound that he didn't know he was alive, let alone the focus of attention. It was, in fact, a perfect moment for someone like me, who had drifted from everyone's attention. Now that I’d shut my mouth, everyone's attention was on the drooling idiot. Sure, my stamina and strength weren't the best, but a burst of speed along with the element of surprise would?—

Ah, Ambrose was watching me. I could see the way his eyes flicked toward me and then back to the man in question. He was wary of me, which was funny considering the weak state I was left in from being in jail. Which meant he wasn’t underestimating me as much as I’d like, or he disliked methatmuch he felt the need to keep an eye on me.

Well, it wasn't like I’d make it far, even if I made a break for it. I knew the area well enough to know there wasn't another town for quite a while, and it took little time to die in a place like this. Especially when you were already lacking water and food in your body, let alone your supplies. It had been an impulsive thought, and I was almost grateful for Ambrose's paranoid stare.

Almost.

"In any case," James said after a moment, turning back to the three of us instead of the one still barely functioning as a person. "These three should do fine. They're able enough to work."

"I beg your pardon?" I blurted out, taken aback and shocked into speech again.

I wasn't surprised when Ambrose scowled at me, and James stared with something like curiosity for the briefest of moments. It was enough of a look to remind me I needed to tread carefully as far as the older man was concerned. Cold he might have been, but that ice wall around him didn't prevent him from seeing things clearly. I wasn't sure if his son was the same, but I needed to be careful around both of them if I wanted even the slightest hope of getting away with anything while they were around.

"You're going to work," James said to me as if that answered everything.

"Work?" I wondered aloud, trying to figure out what that would entail...which could be a lot. The idea of law and justice could get...shaky and unpredictable. Work this far west could mean anything from slaving away in a mine until you dropped under the offer of freedom once you’d worked off your crime. It could also mean being made to do some basic, usually demeaning work for weeks or months with theslightpossibility of being eventually let go.

Or you were just dragged out into some far-flung harsh land and either left there to die or shown some sliver of mercy and shot dead and left for the carrion birds.

"I hoped you’d at least have understood the idea better," the sheriff said dryly. "See, here's how it's gonna work, boys. You three, along with everyone we've had to shove into that fine jail of ours, are a problem. Mostly because there's too many of you to keep, and I got a couple that are wanted up near East Mesa. Gonna be a few weeks 'til they can get here, though, but there ain't no one out here lookin' for you. At least not yet. I got a feeling you three probably don't want anyone to come looking for you."

Ambrose, apparently having recovered from the blow to his pride, stirred to life with a frown, an expression I was beginning to think was the only one he knew. "Why, what did they do?"

"Well, these two got nabbed from a little spat. Part of what they called The Family over in East Mesa; don't let the name fool ya, though. Ain't one thing about them that's like a family," the sheriff said with a shrug. "Just a bunch of criminals, killers, rapists, thieves, robbers, you name it. But they ain't the worst out there, I'm sure ya know."

I grimaced as his eyes swiveled to me. “And this one?"

"Enough," James said softly, shaking his head. "I just need to know if they're of sound mind and body. The nature of their spirit and heart is between them and the Lord."

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