Russ Martin has known about Jesse ever since he went to see her brother Clay hang. Even though the Tyler gang was responsible for his wife’s murder, he cannot help but feel sorry for Jesse. With Jesse living with her aunt and uncle, Russ realizes that absence does make the heart grow fonder.

Part of the Outlaw Series: Hattie's Preacher | Outlaw's Son | Outlaw's Daughter

Beginning her writing career while still in high school, she wrote mainly for her own pleasure until signing her first contract in July of 2002. Since then she has signed twenty-nine contracts and has fourteen books in print.

Wife of forty years, mother of three grown children, grandmother of seven, and mild-mannered receptionist by day, she is first and foremost a writer. From her home in south central Wisconsin, she writes and writes and writes. Since her career finally took off, she deems her husband, Bob, a saint for putting up with her eccentricities.

"OUTLAW'S DAUGHTER continues the story of Gary Tyler but from the point-of-view of his sister, Jesse, and finishes up Sherry Derr-Wille's Outlaw Series with an infinitely satisfying story. Jesse's outlaw father has left physical and emotional scars that won't easily heal--not without God's love and the love of a lawman who has more reason to hate someone with the Tyler name than anyone. You'll bleed with Jesse as she struggles with the demon of wondering if she's as ruthless and cold-blooded as her father was and wanted to make her. You'll also root for her and her lawman to find happily ever after together in the loving embrace of a God who never forsakes nor fails His children." Reviewed by Karen Wiesner, award-winning author of the Wounded Warriors Series www.karenwiesner.com

Jesse awoke in the milky period between full awareness and sleep. She lay in a soft bed and for the first time in weeks, she wasn't shivering from the cold. As she luxuriated in the comfort, reality sunk in. She'd been free for so short a time before someone tried to kill her and now, even if she did survive, she'd traded one prison for another.

"Someday we'll all die by the gun or by the rope," she could hear Frank say. "You won't get a choice, Jes. It's what being a Tyler means."

"Jesse," someone said. "Are you awake?"

"Yes," she replied weakly. "but it don't matter none. Is a hangin' so important to you?" You should have let me die."

"There will be no hanging, Jesse," the lawman said, as he entered the room. "You have my word on it."

"The word of a lawman?" she questioned, looking up at him. "I am who I am, just as you are who you are. I'm a Tyler. You should have let me die by the gun, since I ain't too fond of the rope."

The man pulled a chair closer to her bed, then took her hand. To her surprise, it wasn't the callused hand of one of her brothers, but soft and warm. "Two years ago I met your brother, Clay..."

"Sure you did. What do you take me for, a fool? Clay is dead. He died in Slack Creek. He died because - because of me." Unbidden tears ran down her cheeks and she closed her eyes in an attempt to stop them.

"Your brother Clay died in Slack Creek, but not from his wounds. They hanged him."

The word hanged seemed to echo through her mind. The vision of Clay dangling at the end of a rope tore at her soul. She pulled her hand free, but forced herself to listen as the man continued.

"I arrived before the hanging. Clay told me about you and Gary. Since then, I've kept up on the Tylers. There's never been a poster on you."

Jesse wondered if this man told her the truth. Why would Clay have told a lawman about her? She decided to test him further, even though her strength seemed nearly gone. "What about Gary?" she questioned.

She watched, as the man debated for a long moment. "There have been posters out on him ever since Slack Creek. Clay asked me to help you and Gary, if I ever got the chance."

"Why? You're a lawman. Why would Clay want you to help us?"

"Because he said you didn't belong with your father." Again the man paused, as though allowing the words to sink in, letting her digest what he'd just told her.

Confusion over took her and she closed her eyes. Can it be true? Am I really free? Will Gary ever know freedom?

Russ watched Jesse. Will she believe me? Can I ever convince her she doesn't have a price on her head? Can I make her trust me enough to tell me what I need to know to catch the men who killed my wife?

"Who shot you?" he finally asked, after giving her a moment to digest what he told her.

"I don't know," she replied.

"Think, Jesse. Who knew you were running away?" He knew his questions pushed her strength to the limit, but he had to know the answer.

"Only Gary, but it couldn't have been him. He's not a good shot. He doesn't have the stomach for killing. I'm positive no one followed me. It must have been Jeb."

"Jeb Morris?"

Jesse nodded. He could tell sleep was now threatening to overcome her. "He's been checking out your bank for the last three days."

"You must be wrong. He couldn't have been in our town. I would have known him."

Jesse smiled and almost laughed. "Are you sure? I doubt it. Think back, didn't you see an old hermit, or perhaps a preacher man, or maybe just a drifter? Someone with an unkempt beard, someone who seemed to belong, and yet seemed foreign?"

Russ nodded. In his mind he could see the preacher who'd been spouting scriptures in the tavern, damming all the patrons to the eternal fires of Hell. Then, of course there had been the drifter, the cowboy who seemed out of place in the sleepy farming community. Could one of them have been Jeb Morris? Would Caleb and his men hit Loveland next?

"Where are they camped?" Russ probed, now desperate for an answer, any answer."

"We were camped in a box canyon about an hour's ride from where they shot me, but they ain't there now. Likely most way to Mexico by this time."

Russ wanted to ask more questions, wanted more answers, but he knew Jesse's strength had reached its limits. He could hear her speech becoming slurred and her eyes had closed.

He watched her drift off to sleep and marveled at how beautiful and vulnerable she appeared. He'd built her up in his mind as someone pure and untouched, but how could she be either after riding with Caleb for three years?

You fool, he told himself. Don't let her get to you. Keep a cool head. Somehow, you have to find Caleb and the others, even if you have to use her to do it.