Page 28 of Redeeming the Outlaw
Esther gasped at the revelation. “No!” She started crying.
Whit snarled at her. “They were nothing to me. This is my family. Go pack our things and stop your crying.” Turning back to Brodie, he pushed the outlaw in the chest with one finger. “I find out my friend is the lowest kind of yellow there is, and I end up killing him too. I’ve done a lot of killing for you, Richards. I’m done trying to prove my loyalty to a man who doesn’t want it. I came here because I heard about you from my pa. I heard stories of the great Richards gang and how they were the terrors of the West.” He spat on the ground. “I don’t see anything in front of me but a bunch of cowards hiring other people to do their dirty work for them.”
Brodie slapped Whit’s hand away. “You don’t know anything.”
“I know the marshal is coming. Whole town knows Esther is missing now. I didn’t have to come back and warn you, but I did.”
“Then why did you?”
“As I said, you’re my family now. You think I can just waltz right back into Flat River? I have two options. Either I am on the run, or I’m on the end of a noose. I’ve never been partial to rope.”
Brodie stared at him for a moment longer. “I think you’ve earned your place by now.” Turning to his men he shouted at them. “Pack everything up!”
Whit watched as the camp came to life, men hurrying to pack up their belongings, casting wary glances his way.
“Let the posse come,” a man yelled from the crowd.
“I could use a gunfight,” said another.
“Get busy!” Whit snarled, his voice like thunder. “They’ll be here soon, and we need to be ready!”
The men leaped into action, fear driving them to work faster. Whit couldn’t shake the anger coursing through him, but beneath it all was a gnawing worry for Esther. He had to protect her at all costs.
“Since Esther didn’t leave with Ma, we’re going to have to tie her up before moving,” Brodie told Whit.
“She can help pack for now. I’ll make sure she’s secured before we leave,” Whit replied, clenching his fists. If he protested, it would only raise suspicion. Instead, he nodded curtly, praying for the strength to see this through.
Esther was putting her few belongings in a sack when Whit crawled into the tent. She glared at him, tears running down her cheeks.
Whit reached for her, but she pulled away. “Don’t you touch me. You are nothing more than a heathen. I hope you burn in…”
He grabbed her and kissed her, ignoring the feel of her hands pummeling his shoulders. When she finally collapsed, exhausted from fighting him, he held her for a moment.
“Sweetheart, listen,” he began, his voice low and steady so the men outside wouldn’t hear him. “I know this is terrifying, but I need you to trust me. I’ll protect you. Your family is still alive.”
“What? Why did you say…”
He pressed a finger against her lips. “I didn’t think I was going to come back here today. Snake had every intention of killing me when he took me out of here.”
Tears fell down her cheeks, and Whit pulled her closer. His heart ached at the sight of her tears. “I apologize for dragging you into this mess,” he murmured. “I swear on my life, I’ll get you back to your family.”
“I miss them so much.”
Whit gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I know you do,” he mumbled. “I saw your family today, and they are worried sick about you. I had to make Brodie believe they were killed. Don’t say a word. It isn’t safe.”
Brodie’s shout from outside shattered their moment. “We need to go.”
Whit’s jaw tensed. He took Esther’s hand. “Do you trust me, Esther?”
Her gaze searched his face for sincerity, and she hesitated before nodding her head, placing her faith in him. Whit could see the turmoil within her. A woman standing at a crossroads, torn between the familiar life she had always known and the mysterious unknown which beckoned to her.
“I do, Whit.”
They finished packing and rolled up their tent. Whit picked up the supplies and tucked them under his arm. Grabbing Esther’s hand, he headed toward his horse.
“Whatever happens next, do exactly what I say, all right?” he instructed, hoping she understood the gravity of his words.
Before she could respond, a stranger appeared from the shadows, meandering into the camp.
