The Outlaw's Return. Victoria Bylin
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unmarried and pregnant, but she hadn’t forgotten the miscarriage or the scandal that had erupted. People in Abilene had known she and J.T. had a special friendship, and some assumed the truth—that they were lovers. When she became pregnant, she was desperate to keep the news to herself, but she miscarried just before taking the stage. The gossip about her turned into a full-blown scandal and she lost her reputation completely. When a drunken bounty hunter assumed she’d welcome his attentions, she’d shot him in self-defense. After an ugly murder trial, she’d cut all ties to Abilene and the theater.
Her friends at Swan’s Nest knew she’d killed a man, but no one in Denver knew she’d been with child. Neither did the baby’s father. She’d made her peace with God, but she had no illusions about people and gossip. She knew how it felt to endure stares and ugly talk. She cared deeply about her reputation, and she wanted to set a good example for Gertie. Her sister knew nothing about the scandal, and Mary intended to keep it that way. That’s why she was sending Gertie to New York. If the girl pursued a stage career in Denver, she’d surely meet someone who knew about Mary’s past. Someone would recognize Gertie’s last name, the gossip would start and Mary would lose her reputation for the second time.
Her brother, Augustus, wouldn’t understand the mistake she’d made, but he inspired other worries. He was twelve years old, thin as a bean and hadn’t said more than “Yes, ma’am” and “No, ma’am” since he and Gertie had arrived from West Virginia. The boy was quiet because he stammered his words. As a singer, Mary had trained her voice. She’d tried to help Augustus control his breathing, but he’d only gotten more nervous with her attention. She didn’t know what else to do, but she wouldn’t stop trying to help him.
She loved her brother and sister, but her life had changed drastically the day they’d arrived. In some ways, it had changed for the better. In others, it had gotten so hard she wondered if God had stopped hearing her prayers.
Reaching down, she patted the dog. Its tongue fell to the side as it panted in the summer heat. “I think she’s thirsty,” Mary said to Josh.
“Hey, Brick!” the minister called to the saloon owner. “How about some water for our guest?”
Brick grinned. “Sure thing, preacher.”
As the saloon keeper went to fetch a bowl, Mary traced the ridge of the white scar between the dog’s ears. “I wonder where she came from.”
“There’s no telling,” Josh answered. “But she looks well fed.” He fingered the red bandanna tied around her neck. “She’s also wearing her Sunday best.”
As Mary laughed, Adie Blue, Josh’s wife and Mary’s best friend, approached with Stephen, her one-year-old son, balanced on her hip. Mary ached a little at the sight of them. If she hadn’t miscarried, her baby would have been about the same age.
Adie patted the dog’s neck. “The poor thing! It looks like a bullet grazed the top of her head.”
“It looks that way,” Josh agreed.
Glad to be distracted, Mary touched the scar. “Who would shoot a dog?”
Even if the mutt had been raiding a chicken coop, she didn’t deserve to be shot. Strays did what they had to do to survive. Bending slightly, Mary scratched the dog’s long chin. She had a thick golden coat, big brown eyes and an expression Mary could only describe as a smile. Tinges of black feathered above her eyes to make brows, and she was brushed and clean.
She rubbed the dog’s jaw. “Where’s your home, sweetheart?”
The dog cocked her head as if to say, Right here.
Mary knew the feeling. When she’d come to Denver, she hadn’t known a soul until she’d found Swan’s Nest, a boardinghouse for women in need. There she’d met Adelaide Clarke, now Adie Blue, and made new friends. If someone had told her two years ago she’d be singing hymns in church, she’d have laughed at them. But that’s where she was today and where she wanted to be. A bit of a stray herself, Mary appreciated having a home.
She rubbed the dog’s ears until Brick arrived with the water and set the bowl on the floor. As the dog lapped happily, Gertie sidled up to Mary. “Can we go now?”
“Not yet,” she answered. “It’s our turn to clean up.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue, Gertie.” Mary sounded more commanding than she felt. She was ten years older than her sister, but they’d been close growing up. Disciplining Gertie didn’t come easily, especially since Mary understood the girl’s desire for excitement and fancy dresses. They’d grown up poor in a West Virginia town called Frog’s Landing. Mary had been Gertie’s age when she’d left in search of fame and fortune.
The fortune had been fleeting, and the fame had led to a broken heart. She’d never forget seeing Jonah Taylor Quinn for the first time. She’d finished her second encore at the Abilene Theater and had stepped backstage. He’d been leaning against a wall with his boots crossed at the ankle and a look in his eyes that could only be called scandalous. She’d blushed just looking at him, but then he’d greeted her with the utmost respect. He’d invited her to a midnight supper and she’d accepted. One meal had led to another, and they’d become friends. As spring arrived in Kansas, they’d traded stories and kisses, and she’d fallen in love with him.
Then he’d left…. She still felt the sting of that midnight parting. It’s been good, Mary. But it’s time for me to go.
But I have to tell you something. She’d paused to gather her courage. Instead of telling him she was expecting a baby, she’d revealed her feelings. I love you, J.T.
He’d smiled that wicked smile of his, then he’d shrugged. Love doesn’t mean a thing, sweetheart.
She’d slapped him. Before she could say a word, he’d walked away. She couldn’t bear to think about what happened next, so she glanced at the dog. It had finished the water and looked content. “I wonder if someone’s looking for her,” she remarked to Adie.
“I’ve never seen her before.”
“Me neither,” Josh added.
Adie gave Mary a knowing look. “You’re going to take her home, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.”
Home for Mary was an apartment over the café she owned thanks to a mortgage from the Denver National Bank. She didn’t have room for a dog, but neither could she leave the animal to fend for itself. Mary had always had a heart for strays. It didn’t matter if they had two legs or four. That inclination had caused trouble in the past, but she’d learned her lesson. She loved children and dogs and wouldn’t turn them away, but men couldn’t be trusted.
She looked again at Gertie and Augustus. Her brother stood half-hidden in the corner, eating a piece of pie. Gertie was giving her the evil eye. In another minute, the girl would storm across the room and make a scene. Mary hated arguing with Gertie, so she turned to Adie. “I’m going to start cleaning up.”
“I’ll do it,” Adie volunteered. “You work hard all week.”
“So do you.”
Adie shrugged. “I have to wait for Josh. Besides, I have a favor to ask.”
“Sure,” Mary answered.
“When you come to supper this afternoon, would you bring a couple of loaves of that good sourdough? If I know Josh, we’re going to have a crowd.”
Sunday supper at Swan’s Nest had become a tradition, one that had grown from a simple meal shared by the women who lived there to a feast for anyone who showed up. Josh made a point of inviting everyone from church, and today Mary had noticed some new faces. “I’ll be glad to bring all you need,” she said to Adie.
Her friend smiled. “While you fetch the bread, I’ll take Gertie and Augustus to Swan’s Nest.”
“If you’re