Redbird

by E. E. Burke

  Charley’s hand dropped to his side. His gun made a soft, slithering sound as he slid it out of its holster. If he started shooting with all these armed workers around, they would both die.

  Jake’s heart kicked in his chest. He bent to peer beneath the train. On the other side, denim-clad legs scissored past. As the footfalls faded, he released a slow breath.

  He couldn’t take this much longer. This job would be his last. After tonight, they ought to have adequate funds for their needs. His outlaw days would be over.

  A moment later, he swung onto the metal platform. Surprisingly, the door wasn’t locked. He eased it open. Inside, it was dark and quiet. “No one here. I’ll cover the windows. You find a lamp.”

  Jake made a circle around the car to pull down the tasseled curtains that were rolled up on brass rods. His aunt’s home had no glass for the windows, no fancy curtains. Her small parcel of land could not mean that much to the railroad, yet the white men wanted it anyway. He and his cousin were justified to use whatever means necessary to keep what belonged to them.

  A match rasped, followed by a sulfurous smell, then a soft glow filled the compartment.

  Charley lifted the lamp. Light splashed across his features, which made the raised scar on his cheek more noticeable. During the white man’s war, he had been struck in the face with a saber. The poorly healed injury pulled his mouth into a permanent grimace. The worse scars were the ones that couldn’t be seen.

  “Where do you suppose he hides the money?” Charley whispered.

  Jake made a quick survey. Papers and maps scattered across a desk, leather-covered volumes shelved in a bookcase. Behind a partial wall would be the sleeping quarters. The last time, they’d found the payroll money in the mail car. This time, the owner hadn’t brought a mail car with him. “Let’s try the desk.”

  The drawers were locked. Jake ran his hands underneath to feel for a release that might trigger a secret compartment. “Nothing. Bet he keeps the key on him. I’ll have to pry it open.” He pulled out his knife and went to work on the top drawer.

  Charley flipped the lid on a fancy cigar box. In the midst of stuffing the contents inside his coat, he frowned and looked over his shoulder. “Hurry up. I hear something.”

  From outside came a scrape on the metal platform.

  Jake scrambled to his feet.

  “Stay there. Distract them,” Charley commanded in a harsh whisper. He pressed his back against the wall next to the door and pulled a gleaming blade from a sheath in his boot.

  Jake shook his head emphatically. No bloodshed. That was the deal.

  The knob turned. A woman stepped inside.

  Redbird.

  Recognition jolted through him. Although he’d never met her and didn’t know her real name, there was no mistaking her fiery crown. This was the same woman who had followed the railroad for months, on the arm of the man the workers called Chief.

  Fear flickered across her face. Rather than screaming, as Jake expected, she leveled a stern look at him. “What are you doing in here? This is a private office.”

  Charley eased up behind her with his lips pressed in a thin, cruel line. Surely, not. His cousin wouldn’t harm the woman.

  Jake tensed.

  The blade flashed.

  “Tsa-li, no!”

  Confusion flickered across Redbird’s face. At the same time, Charley clapped a hand over her mouth and jerked her against him with the razor-sharp blade held to her throat.

  Jake planted his palms on the desktop, prepared to leap over to wrestle the weapon out of Charley’s hand. He checked himself. If he startled her, she’d try to bolt, and his cousin’s ruthless expression made it clear she wouldn’t get far.

  Redbird’s sky blue eyes rounded with terror.

  Seconds were all Jake had to convince his cousin to put down the knife.

  “There is no need to hurt her.” He switched to their language and kept his voice low and even. “We agreed. No bloodshed.”

  Charley scowled. He jerked his chin at the door. “Someone might follow.”

  To forestall further argument, Jake went to the door to peer outside. If one of the men came looking for her, it would make matters worse, and things were bad enough already.

  If they were caught breaking into the railcar, they would be hanged from the nearest tree. It didn’t matter that they were on Cherokee land where white men had no jurisdiction. The railroad workers would not wait for Indian patrols or hand over their prisoners to Indian courts. In the Territory, laws were ignored, as were boundaries.

  From what he could see, no men lingered nearby. The only sounds were strains of music and drunken laughter.

  He shut the door with a quiet click. “Nobody followed. We can’t risk it and keep searching for the money. Tie her up. Let’s get out of here.”

  Charley flicked a dark glance at the petrified woman in his arms. “She has seen us. She will ruin everything.”

  “Only if they connect us with the other theft.”

  “You know they will if she squawks.”

  Redbird’s frightened eyes darted back and forth, as they spoke what to her must sound like gibberish. She was smart to keep her wits about her. How long did they have before she lost her composure and screamed for help?

  “I will cut her throat. We can run. No one will be wiser.” Charley made the threat as casually as if he were discussing the weather.

  Jake’s gut twisted with revulsion. Kill a woman? Out of the question. At the same time, Charley was right. If they let her go, she would be able to describe them. Their plan would fail, and violence would be unavoidable.

  Charley flexed his wrist, pressing the knife closer to her throat where the skin was pale and soft. His cousin’s patience, which was never long, had come to end.

  Jake blurted out the only idea that came to mind. “Give her to me.”

  “You?” Charley sneered. “What will you do with her?”

  He knew well enough what to do with a woman, and he had taken notice of this one. Eyes as blue as the summer sky, milky skin sprinkled with freckles the color of sand, and her hair—magnificent coils of fire, bright as a sunset. She’d tried without success to subdue it into a thick knot. His fingers itched to touch it and learn the texture. Whatever it was about her—whether her exotic beauty or a taste of the forbidden—thinking about taking her sent a shaft of lust straight through him.

  His mouth went dry. He had never forced himself on a woman and wasn’t about to start now. So, what was he going to do with her?

  “I will make her man pay us to return her.”

  Charley’s obsidian eyes filled with respect, something Jake hadn’t seen in a long time. “Good thinking, Wa-ya.”

  Good? It was a terrible idea. The worst he’d ever had. Only marginally better than Charley’s suggestion. For now, it was the only way he could keep Redbird alive.

  Jake used the scarf around his neck to gag the woman. He tied her hands with the braided leather from his hatband. His thumb brushed smooth skin on the inside of her wrist and awareness buzzed through him, making him fumble with the ties.

  The pull she exerted on his senses unsettled him. He had never been attracted to a white woman before. Even though white blood flowed through his veins, he’d rejected it. His Cherokee blood was stronger.

  “Hurry!” Charley rasped.

  Tension heated the air. Jake whipped out his gun, stuck the barrel against her side and dragged her to the door. He didn’t want to scare her, but he had to ensure she’d behave. If she tried to run, his cousin would sink a knife into her back before she made it five paces.

  Charley doused the light before he shut the door behind him.

  Lively music swelled. The party went on. No one appeared to be paying attention to the last car in the train.

  Jake nudged Redbird down the metal stairs and retraced his earlier route. As they neared the engine, he veered into the high grass.

  She balked, making a distressed sound in the back of h
er throat.

  Charley spun around with a glare. He took a threatening step in her direction. Moonlight glinted on his knife blade.

  Quick as a flash, Jake holstered his gun and slung the woman over his shoulder. The sooner they were out of here, the better. Before all hell broke loose.

  He took off across the field, holding tight to his captive, who wriggled like a fish. Her frantic thrashing caused him to stumble. After he’d caught his balance, without dropping her, he resumed running.

  Jake cursed his captive. His cousin. Mostly he cursed himself and his crazy idea to abduct a white woman. At this rate, they would all die before the night was done.

  By the time he reached the trees where they had hobbled their horses, sweat slicked his skin.

  “Go! Hide!” he called out to the man who’d stayed behind to watch their horses.

  A rustling noise came from the bushes. Then, silence. Jasper would do as he was told and disappear into the woods. They knew where to find him when and if they needed him again.

  Jake set his captive on her feet. She made a retching sound. Unless she choked, he wouldn’t remove that gag. A scream would bring about her death.

  Charley swung up into the saddle. His horse danced, as impatient as its master. “Be quick.”

  “Go ahead. I have to get her situated.”

  “We stay together. Strap her on like a side of venison.”

  Jake shot his cousin a black look. He was not about to carry a woman face down across his horse’s withers. Which meant he had to find another way. Fast.

  If she rode behind him, she might try to jump off or inadvertently kick. The horse didn’t like heels to his flanks. Thundercloud would buck. He’d put her in front of him.

  His cousin muttered curses while Jake settled Redbird into the saddle with her hands bound.

  When he pushed aside her skirt, expecting to wrestle petticoats, he got another surprise. The white woman wore leggings similar to those worn by his aunts when they worked in the fields. Only these were made from wool not buckskin. Odd, but convenient.

  After he mounted, he shifted to make them both more comfortable. His movement brought her buttocks against his crotch. Heat coursed through him, which made him sweat worse. Now, he wished she had on more layers.

  Curse her too-thin leggings, and curse whatever ill luck had brought her into the railcar at the same time he and Charley had broken in. Had she stayed at the party like everyone else, they wouldn’t be in this fix.

  Not entirely true. He had opened his mouth and claimed her, which made her safety his responsibility. He had to protect her, at the same time, prevent her escape, and make sure she couldn’t reveal their identities. How he would accomplish all this, he had no idea. Once they were clear of danger, he could think straight enough to figure it out.

  He wrapped his free arm around her waist snugly to let her know he had a firm hold and would not countenance misbehavior. Then he guided his horse into the trees.

  His elder cousin generally took the lead, once a job was done. This time, Charley followed him. It wasn’t in deference. Charley intended to keep an eye on Redbird. If she became too troublesome, he’d kill her.

  As they rode deeper into the forest, the night turned black, along with Jake’s mood. He could navigate these woods blindfolded, yet never find his way out of the dark place his soul resided. With this act, he had signed his death warrant.

  Overhead, an owl hooted.

  Redbird trembled in his arms.

  “It is only u-gu-ku.” Jake stopped short of translating for her. His calm tone ought to convey some degree of comfort.

  Another hoot sounded, just as close.

  Owls were reputed to be ghosts or witches in disguise. He didn’t believe the old superstitions. Still, if an owl followed them it seemed a bad omen.

  Nothing good would come from abducting this woman. But what else could he do? He had taken Redbird to save her, and would return her, as soon as he could figure out how to manage it without risking the mission. Whatever he did, he couldn’t allow her to ruin their plans. Too many people depended on him.

  She clutched the saddle horn and leaned forward. He understood why she’d want to move away from him, and he’d ride more comfortably without her seated his lap. They had a long ride ahead. If she stayed in that rigid position, she would be in agony by the time they reached the hideout.

  He drew her back, using gentle pressure to urge her to relax against him. Finally, she did, which brought his nose into contact with a mass of soft, curly hair. He breathed in a fresh scent, almost lemony, like the plants in his aunt’s garden. Did Redbird smell like this all over?

  She jerked away, then rammed her heels into the horse’s sides.

  The stallion bucked.

  Jake struggled to stay in the saddle while holding onto the foolish woman. After he’d gotten the horse under control, he forced her hips down and barked an order in Tsa-la-gi. The words she might not understand, but the meaning was clear.

  What had he been thinking to allow himself to become distracted? She’d almost left him on his ass in the dirt. Did she think she could ride away on his stallion? The horse would throw her, then trample her if she spooked it. Should she manage to hold on, Charley would catch up or simply shoot her. He would not allow her to escape.

  Jake considered warning her about Charley’s easily triggered temper. It would not do any good. In fact, it might make her bold, should she think she could influence one of them. Best to remain quiet until he figured out what to do with her.

  He dug his fingers into her waist to convey his determination to hold onto her and remained alert.

  After a time, they left the woods and reached a stretch of rocky hills. The moon’s silvery light reflected off pale boulders scattered across the steep terrain.

  They were getting closer to the river. Soon, they would reach the bluffs, where countless caves were concealed, including the one that served as their hideout.

  No white lawmen ventured this far into Cherokee land. If they did, they did not leave. The rugged, remote region offered sanctuary for Indians and outlaws alike. The U.S. government made little distinction between the two, so there had developed a symbiotic relationship between whites outside the law and the People, who were not given the protection of the law.

  Once they were in the hilly country, Charley set a grueling pace. He wouldn’t slow down for his own comfort, much less Redbird’s. They had to make it to safety before those who might follow caught up.

  Close to daybreak, Redbird started to squirm.

  Jake clenched his jaw. With them sitting this close, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about his body’s inconvenient reaction to her bottom rubbing against him. Was she tormenting him on purpose to try to distract him? She had not kicked or bothered the horse again. At this point, she might need to relieve herself.

  “Tsa-li, hold up. She needs a rest.”

  So did he.

  Jake dismounted first. Then he lifted the woman out of the saddle and set her on the ground, removing his hands from her as quickly as possible. Every muscle in his body had knotted up, and he ached for a release he wouldn’t get unless he went off somewhere and took care of it himself.

  “Go over there.” He motioned to a clump of bushes to make his meaning understood.

  They hadn’t spoken a word of English the entire time. Out of an abundance of caution, he had decided not to reveal his mastery of her language. For one, the minute he took off that gag, she would try to talk to him. He did not want to talk to her. In fact, he would prefer not to have to look at her, and he sure as hell didn’t want to feel her soft bottom pressed up against him for one more second.

  Redbird raised her bound hands. Behind the gag, her face twisted with an expression conveying misery. It required no words for him to understand that she couldn’t take care of her needs with her hands tied.

  He unknotted the leather bonds. The raw marks on her wrists made his stomach knot. She had done it to
herself when she kept twisting her hands in an attempt to escape. He could expect it to happen again and again, if she believed she would be abused or killed when they reached their destination. She knew nothing of their intentions and naturally feared what she did not understand.

  Another choice he’d rather not make. Keep his mouth shut and let her suffer or try to ease her fear.

  “Go take care of your needs. Then come back. If you behave, I won’t tie you up again. If you try to run, I’ll strap you face down over my horse.”

  Chapter 3

  Her captor spoke flawless English.

  Kate slowly withdrew her hands from his grasp. Why had he waited so long to make her aware he could speak her language? Was it another means to torment her?

  When she pulled the gag from her mouth, his eyes narrowed, yet he didn’t stop her. She moistened her lips. Her mouth had gone dry, making it impossible to speak. She nodded to indicate she understood.

  He’d been careful while he untied the leather bonds. His hold had gentled when the bleeding marks on her wrists were uncovered. If her injuries stirred him to compassion, she might be able to appeal to his kindness. But not his partner.

  The other man’s black gaze gleamed with hate. He continued to stare at her.

  Her skin, already damp with perspiration, turned clammy. The horrible stories she’d heard of women being captured and abused swirled through her mind. Was that what lay in store for her?

  She’d read that the Indian tribes in this part of the Territory were mostly educated and followed Western culture and manners. These two Indian men dressed in Western fashion. Their manners were far from cultured.

  “Go on,” her captor urged. His eyebrows, the color and shape of raven’s wings, gathered in a frown over his eyes, which were light brown, flecked with gold.

  His striking features disturbed her almost as much as the other man’s scarred disfigurement.

  “Do you not understand? Be quick about it!”

  Handsome or not, he had the temperament of a snapping turtle.

  Kate stumbled away on rubbery legs to go behind the bush he’d indicated. If she didn’t relieve herself soon, her bladder would burst.