Return of the Outlaw Read Online Free Page A

He reached for her hand and held it as they walked. They sat on a wooden bench, under a tree. There was a soft breeze rustling in the branches above them, but otherwise, except for the chirping of crickets, the night was quiet. The moon shining through the leaves laid a gently moving lace of moonlight and shadow on Anne’s oval face, and she looked like the old Anne. The lines of unhappiness were erased by the benevolent light, and the paleness was camouflaged. It was the same face he had seen in a thousand cook-fires, the face that had visited him in his bittersweet dreams, the one he had seen whenever he had closed his eyes and thought of her. He pulled her to him and kissed her. He felt her lips on his, but there was no submissiveness, no warmth in them. After a moment she pulled away.
    “I love you, Anne,” he said, trying desperately to draw out the old passion.
    She took a deep breath. He saw her lips tighten, and she closed her eyes. After a moment she looked up at him and his stomach was gripped by an iron fist of dread greater than any fear he had experienced in battle.
    She said, “I need to talk to you Jeff, there ’s something I have to tell you.” There was no hardness in her tone, nor was there gentleness. Her face and voice were like windblown sand upon which no creature has trodden and there is no story to be read.
    “What is it Anne? ” His own voice betrayed none of the turbulence beneath.
    “I ’m engaged to marry someone else.”
    Jeff ’s world collapsed inside his chest. All of his hopes and plans for the future dissolved into nothing, and a great painful sense of loss enveloped him. He allowed none of this to show on his face. He understood how difficult this must be for Anne. Nor did he wish to make a bigger fool of himself than he already had. All that remained was for him to make the rest of this meeting as short and painless as possible for both of them. He struggled to think of something to say. “Are you happy?” he asked her, immediately regretting the question.
    “Yes.”
    “Good . . . that’s . . .” He broke off then murmured, “the important thing is that you’re happy.”
    She was looking into his eyes now, deeply. Jeff attempted a smile. “Tell me who he is, so I’ll know who to congratulate.” In an effort to mitigate the awkwardness he tried to sound unconcerned. The effect was a sort of false cheerfulness. It was the biggest lie he had ever told, and she believed it.
    She dropped her gaze and said without emotion, “Milt Carr.”
    He tried to think of the next thing to say but was spared the effort when Audrey interrupted.
    “Anne, I think you should come in now.”
    Jeff was grateful for the intervention. “I ’ll walk you to the door.”
    Keeping a few feet of distance between them, they walked to the house. He tried not to limp as they crossed the yard, feeling, for some reason, the need to hide all his wounds. Anne reached the door ahead of him and turned to face him. Her eyes were in shadow.
    “Best of everything to you, Anne.”
    “And to you.” Her voice was almost inaudible. There was something in it and in the lingering look she gave him, but he was through trying to decipher the indecipherable. And if it was sympathy, he wanted none of it.
    “So long ,” he said. He turned away and heard her close the door behind him. He walked to his horse, heart-weary, and lifted himself into the saddle. He rode toward the Rafter 8, allowing the horse to choose its own gait—an easy-going walk. There was no hurry now. 
    When Anne re-entered the house, Audrey was waiting. “For a girl who ’s engaged to be married, you spent an awfully long time out in the dark with another man.”
    Without glancing at her mother, Anne moved through the room and down the hallway to her bedroom. Audrey followed and listened at the door for a few minutes. Knowing her mother was there, Anne stood on the other side , waiting until she heard the rustle of skirts and the creaking of