Sundance by David Fuller Page A

were mistaken about South America.”
    Again he said nothing. Etta had told her early on that he was in prison, but Mina’s response had been so full of I-told-you-sos that Etta had told her nothing more. Mina must have assumed he’d been released. When the newspapers said he was dead, she had no reason not to believe it.
    Mina stared at him a long moment. Then, without warning, she walked into the next room. Through the open door, he watched her search for something. She opened a drawer, and he realized the drawer was full of her sister’s things. He saw Mina pull out and set aside a collection of papers she had saved, work done by Etta’s former pupils. While he was curious as to why Mina had kept them, seeing them again carried him back to an earlier time.
    When he first met Etta, she had been a schoolteacher. He had been impressed by her intelligence, knowing how limited opportunities were for smart women, particularly in the West. He thought back to the day they met. Etta had been astonished by him, this interesting, handsome cowboy who also happened to rob banks and trains. Longbaugh wasn’t astonished in the least. He had known her immediately, believing that he had met the right one. He wondered why she didn’t know it, too. Atthe time, she had been engaged in a flirtation with a clever young fellow who was a teacher in a nearby town. Longbaugh thought the flirtation irrelevant, as chemistry was chemistry. But he did wonder why, for her, it came down to a choice between men rather than the thunderbolt it had been for him. That lack of perception on her part was the first warning sign, and he took a mental step back.
    The other man appeared to be the very model of civility and stability, too good to be true, and then he was indeed too good to be true, as she discovered he was married. Even so, young Etta had managed to convince herself that, to be modern, perhaps a married man was what she was supposed to want. Longbaugh considered that a second warning sign, and took another mental step back.
    By now, Longbaugh knew she was too young for him. Chemistry was not enough for him to lose his heart, and the thunderbolt did not saddle him with an emotional obligation. Surveying her with a cool head, he acknowledged issues of timing and age compatibility. He rationalized now, thinking it was a great deal to ask, even of a mature woman, that a female member of polite society might commit to a man whose very name was associated with a life on the outside of that society.
    It was time to get on his horse and ride away fast. He was more than ready to do just that. He knew it was the wise move. And yet, he did not. Something about her potential kept him there.
    But potential could only be fulfilled by time and patience, and that was not in the cards for a man in his occupation. So he pressed the matter and put her to the test, fully expecting her to fail. Recklessly, he took her to visit a bank in a neighboring town, not to rob it, but to show her how he might go about robbing it. He wanted to know her reaction.
    He parked their carriage off the main street. She was appropriately curious and excited as they approached the bank, and seemed to be taking in all the details, as if this was a onetime event and she wanted to be sure to remember it all for her diary. Once inside, bad luck struck immediately, as he was recognized. He showed no panic. But Etta was anxious for him and wanted to get him away. Enjoying her display of nerves, he lingered to watch the whispered news of his identity passfrom teller to teller. He was flattered to be recognized, and further flattered to see her impressed by his fame. Finally, he led her to a side door to the hallway that would take them out through the back. But once away from bank employees and customers, she took his hand and pulled him toward the stairs. She wanted to go
up
. It seemed a questionable move, but he saw something in her eyes. He took a chance and, again