An Outlaw's Redemption

Chapter Twenty-Eight

August 1861

Barlow knew you couldn't make anyone go anywhere if they had a mind to go somewhere else. Much like the night when a scream drew him out of the camp. It sounded like a cougar had gotten caught in one of the traps they'd set up around the campsite. The closer he got he realized it wasn't an animal caught in the trap. Figuring it was the third bounty hunter that month or a Rebel soldier, he drew his gun; and hardened himself against any pity he might feel for the interloper who happened to have found himself caught between the jaws of steel. Barlow fingered the trigger of his pistol and stepped around the last tree that stood between him and his target. "Hands where I can see them, mister, or I'll put a bullet in..." the threat died on his lips.

A girl?

Horror swept over him, loosening his grip on his gun, the barrel dipped down into the holster on his hip.

"D-don't shoot. P-p-please," the woman turned her ebony eyes on him, "I didn't mean no harm, sir." She raised her hands in surrender. Her tearstained face stabbed him with guilt.

"I'm not going to shoot you, miss," he relaxed his stance and held his palms up to her, "I'm not going to hurt you."

Although judging by the blood staining the edge of her torn dress, he already had. He eagerly approached the frightened girl, "I'm going to get that trap off your leg, alright?"

She sucked in her bottom lip, her eyes widened as he approached, but she nodded, and something inside Barlow uncoiled. He had no idea what he would have done had she become hysterical. Thankfully, despite her pain, she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. It appeared this wasn't her first time to experience such a level of pain. Barlow smiled at her and turned his attention to the trap.

His stomach roiled.

When he'd placed these traps out, he'd done so to have peace of mind should a bounty hunter or a wild animal come near. A woman or child however was a scenario he hadn't planned for. The thing was clamped above the ankle on her left leg. She whimpered a bit when he reached for the spring mechanism on either side of the trap, no doubt anticipating more pain. The metal chain clanked as she moved.

"Try to keep still," he instructed, "even when the trap opens, don't pull yourself free. Wait for me to help you. Your leg might be broken, and we don't want to make it worse. Understand?"

Another brave little nod.

Barlow grabbed the release springs and was about to compress them with the woman spoke, "Can I...hold onto you?"

Closing his eyes for a second, he swallowed, then gave a nod of his own, "Sure, of course." Her hands circled around his neck as he bent over her, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. He cleared his throat, "Ready?"

The side of her face rubbed against his upper arm, "Mm-hmm." Barlow pressed the spring levers with a firm, steady pressure until the trap's jaws released. Once it clicked back into the open position, he gently removed her foot from the trap. He eased away from her hold and examined her leg. The skin had been broken and there was a deep indentation where the steel had clamped her leg, but she'd had the good sense to keep still, so the bleeding was minimal.

In the light of the full moon, there seemed to be swelling and discoloration, however, and that worried Barlow, "Can you move your foot?"

She flexed her foot and immediately hissed in pain, "Ow! it hurts!"

Weston nodded, "Just sit still then; I'll get some sticks to splint it." Once he returned with splint worthy sticks, she had composed herself.

"What's your name?" he asked trying to distract her from his task.

"Cathay."

He pulled the bandana from his neck and tied it firmly around the sticks just below her knee, "I'm Weston Barlow."

"You're Barlow?" she said with such disbelief that he stopped what he was doing and stared back at her.

A small grin lifted the corner of his lips, "You sound disappointed."

She stammered, "I just...uh...I thought from the stories...you'd be meaner or bigger, or...something."

He chuckled softly and finished setting the splint, "Well, that's probably for the best if folks think that. I'm safer that way...how old are you?"

"Seventeen."

He took a deep breath and asked the question he dreaded, "Are you running away?"

She nodded. He dipped his head and then gazed into her eyes, "You on the underground railroad?"

She questioned his intent and slowly nodded her head, "How do you know about it?"
"I've heard a little in the wind..."

"Are you going to take me back to the masters?"

Weston studied her, "Not if you want to be free."

"Are you a conductor or something?"

The twenty-nine-year-old outlaw smiled, "I am tonight."

"Why are you being nice to me?"

His features softened, "We're not all bad."

A broad smile stretched over her face, and she promised, "I'll repay you someday."

Once freed, Cathay enlisted, disguised like a man and under the false name of William Cathay; she went on to become a great solider and even fought alongside Barlow at the Battle of Pea Ridge where she returned her promise by saving his life.