Gold Dust Widow: The Story of an Outlaw's Revenge

Chapter 7: Clara

Jasper tied me to a mesquite tree for the night and settled down across from the fire with a smug smirk. I wouldn't be escaping his clutches tonight.

But I wouldn't be around for much longer if I had anything to do with it. I glanced at the horizon as the sun disappeared. The earth was still. They were coming. I was sure of it. I just didn't know how far away they were, or if they were even able to track us.

Hank was a filthy bastard, but he was a loyal as a hound. He'd drag Norman and the others with him as well. It wouldn't be long now.

I turned back to glance at the sleeping giant. He'd pulled his hat down over his face, propped his head against his saddlebags, and wrapped his coat around his shoulders to keep the cold wind out. His badge glinted slightly in the moonlight.

There was something about him that frightened me. Something in his steel coloured eyes, something that told me that despite his badge, he was capable of hurting, of killing.

And there was the way he looked at me, grabbed me. He wanted something from me, to save me, to kill me, to bed me. I wasn't sure yet. But he wanted something, and he knew how to get it from me.

I was very good at being confident, at destroying men, at being strong. But he seemed to see through me every time.

I wondered what brought him all the way out here to this beautiful land. Was he really after the gang? Had we got so well known that the US Marshals were hunting us now? It would seem so.

What would he do when he found out the truth?

I felt the cool of my locket pressing against my skin. I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking back to a time when I had a warm bed, warm food, and a roof above my head. When I had Jamie.

Ares snored beside me. I smiled and ran my fingers through his soft fur. He was a small comfort through these cold nights.

I awoke to the distinct smell of coffee. I opened my eyes to see Jasper pouring the dark liquid into a steel cup. His hat was on the ground, his dark hair hung in his eyes.

"Morning," he murmured before standing smoothly and walking towards me.

I watched him warily until he pushed undid my handcuffs and pushed the hot cup into my hands.

"Thank you," I breathed.

He nodded once and poured himself a second cup.

"We're going into town today," he told me. "I'll have you locked up in the county jail. Then I'll get some men together to go into Colorado and find the rest of your gang. Once they're in custody, you'll be free to go. Home, I could hope. You are young, Clara; you can get married and have children. You should."

I sipped my coffee. "Sounds like you've made a plan, Marshal," I murmured.

He cracked a grin, which illuminated his face in such a boyish way; my fears of him seemed unfounded.

"We'll have to keep a lookout for divine intervention," he chuckled.

After we'd eaten some lumpy oats, he packed up, cleaned and changed the bandages on my wound and snapped the cuffs back on my wrists.

Above us, grey clouds were beginning to fill the sky. It hadn't rained in months, the farmers would be grateful.

He started forward, in the direction that he still thought was towards Oak Creek. Following behind him, I couldn't help but be bemused by his utter lack of directionality.

We made our way slowly through the waning red canyon and out onto the wide plains. The land was dappled with trees; hard desert shrubs grew in tufts.

Jasper walked more slowly, casting his gaze back towards the red canyon we'd just left.