The Outlaw Takes a Bride

The Outlaw Takes a Bride by Susan Page Davis

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Authors: Susan Page Davis
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another ranch I used to work at. I’m planning to increase the herd soon, and I thought it would be—”
    As he talked, his face seemed to wobble and then go hazy. If only it weren’t so hot! Sally’s knees shook, and she knew her body was about to betray her. She reached toward him.
    “Mark, I…”
    As she fell, his strong arm came around her and supported her.

    Johnny did the best he could, but the injury and the sling hindered him from sweeping Sally up into his arms. Luckily, a sturdy bench sat not three yards away. She seemed not to have completely lost consciousness, and he was able to guide her to the bench, supporting her heavily with his good arm.
    He sat her down so that she leaned against the wall of the depot and ran back to pick up the small basket she had dropped on the platform. When he returned and sat down beside her, she was patting her face lightly with a handkerchief. Strands of her golden hair stuck to her damp forehead and neck. Her face was flushed, and she avoided his gaze. Johnny wished he could set her at ease, but he didn’t have much experience with fainting women.
    “I’m so sorry,” she said, still not looking at him. “What must you think of me, swooning like that?”
    “Well, I—I guess I think you’re unwell. What can I do?”
    “I’m not ill,” she said. “Not really. It’s just that it’s so hot, and I’m…well, if you want the truth, I’m hungry.”
    Johnny let out his pent-up breath. Hunger he could handle. “Sorry. I didn’t think about you not having much to eat on the train. There’s a hotel right across the street. Let me take you over there when you’re able, and we’ll get some…” He hesitated, not sure what to order for a famished lady. “Some sandwiches, maybe? And some tea?”
    “That sounds heavenly.” Sally’s gentle, rolling voice reminded him of home and his mother. Ma never raised her voice unless she absolutely had to.
    “You can rest at the hotel while I…while I see to things.”
    “What things?” she asked.
    “Well, the…the preacher, I guess. If you really want to go ahead with it…”
    “I do, Mark. I feel that we’ve gotten to know each other very well through our correspondence. Don’t you?”
    Johnny’s mouth was dry. He wanted to tell her that he’d only seen half of the correspondence in question, but he couldn’t do that. He looked deep into her somber blue eyes. How could he disappoint her, when she had gone through so much to get here?
    But still, it wasn’t right. Sally was a God-fearing woman. He knew that from her letters. If he told her he’d been lying…
    On the other hand, didn’t she deserve the truth?
    Johnny’s head spun. If he didn’t do something, one way or the other, he’d be the one swooning on the platform. He would feed her, and then they would talk. That was it. He jumped up.
    “Can you walk now? I think we should get you out of the sun and order some luncheon.”
    “I would appreciate that so much! I confess, my funds ran low, and I tried to economize. Perhaps too much.”
    “I should have sent you more money.” As soon as it came out of his mouth, Johnny clamped his jaws shut. He was adding to the lie.
Stop talking, you idiot!
He held out his left hand. “Let me help you.”
    Sally took his hand and pulled on it, levering herself up off the bench. She turned and tucked her hand snugly in the crook of his good elbow.
    “Now, you tell me if you feel woozy,” Johnny said.
    “I will. Thank you.”
    He led her through the depot and out the front door, onto the main street. Still there was no sign of Cam and the rig.
    Halfway across the street, he paused and looked back. “Oh, your luggage.”
    “We can go back for it later,” she said.
    “Sure.” A wagon was coming down the street, but it wasn’t Cam. Johnny drew Sally on toward the front steps of the hotel. It felt fine having her hold on to his arm like that, even though the warmth of her dainty, black-gloved hand made his arm

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