by E. E. Burke
She wrapped her arms around her middle, suddenly ill. If Jake and Charley had stolen the payroll, and intended to do it again, that explained why they had broken into her father’s railcar, and why Charley would want to kill her—to keep her quiet.
It made sense now, why Jake had been adamant about not wanting to get on the workers’ train, why he’d kept his hat pulled low and avoided looking at the tracklayers in the hotel lobby. He hadn’t expected to see them. He’d been afraid someone might recognize him.
Kate’s chest burned like her heart was on fire. She dropped her gaze to her lap to hide her despair. Jake had lied to her. Worse than covering up his intentions, he had misled her about his character. He wasn’t the honorable man she believed him to be. He’d connived to rob the railroad, then taken advantage of her eagerness to open doors.
Perhaps he’d planned to use this meeting with her father to fool him into forking over money, calling it a lease payment. No wonder Jake refused to take her to the tribal council. They wouldn’t get a penny of what he collected. She’d been blind not to see the truth.
“Miss Parsons?” The major spoke her name kindly. “Is there anything you’d like to say?”
Lord, it was tempting to blurt out the whole sordid story, except she couldn’t form the words. She couldn’t betray Jake, even though he’d betrayed her in the worse way. With every kiss and tender touch, he’d betrayed her. He’d awakened her to love. That’s what this was, this thing dying in her chest.
She clasped her hands and squeezed her eyes shut. Oh God, she wanted to scream, wanted to hit something—preferably Jake. He’d let her make a fool of herself by bringing him here and parading him around like he was a respectable gentleman, when he was nothing more than a dirty rotten thief.
“I have nothing more to say,” she replied, her voice dulled by grief.
She would confront Jake with the truth. Demand he confess his crimes and face justice. “Will you take to me to see Mr. Colston, please?”
Chapter 18
The echo of footsteps came from the narrow hall beyond the bars. In the darkness, Jake leaned against cold hard stone and focused his attention on the sounds. It kept his mind off the physical pain and the mental torment. Based on the railroad chief’s accusation, he’d been found out. Kate must’ve told them about the bungled break-in. She had been the only one in that railcar besides him and his cousin. Her betrayal hurt worse than Charley’s fists.
Two sets of footsteps. One heavy, one lighter. It could be leaders of the local vigilante committee, who’d come to drag him out of jail and lynch him from the nearest tree.
A light flashed in the narrow passageway between two cramped cells. One remained empty, for now. Jake occupied the other. Possibly they’d caught Charley, though the odds were against it. His cousin had sworn to die in battle, not hanging from the end of a rope.
Another flicker, then a bright light shot through the bars.
Jake lifted his hand in front of his face. He squinted through his splayed fingers at two dark forms. One had the shape of the fat jail guard, the other was a much smaller person who appeared to be enveloped in a hooded cloak.
“On your feet,” the guard ordered. “You got a visitor.”
He shifted his legs to stand. The movement stirred up an awful stench that mostly came from the filthy straw. By using the stone wall behind him for leverage, he got to his feet. His side felt like someone had stabbed him with a burning stick. Likely a broken rib from one of Charley’s well-placed blows. He hoped his cousin hurt this bad. It would prevent him from wreaking more havoc.
The guard moved the lantern and the person next to him drew back the hood. Light reflected off a woman’s pale skin and red hair.
Redbird.
Jake’s heart stumbled. He hadn’t thought she’d come. Did this mean she hadn’t betrayed him? If not, he hoped she had a good explanation for how he ended up in here. Even if it wouldn’t help him, he would feel better knowing she had been loyal.
She stepped closer to the bars, her face a pale oval in the flickering light.
He stayed at the back of the cell. God, he hated for her to see him like this—trapped, beaten, bruised, smelling worse than a dead possum.
The guard hung the lantern on a hook outside the cell. His mouse-colored mustache twitched as though he had just noticed the smell. “Stinks, don’t he?”
The lazy yu-ne-ga smelled worse. He could do something about the foul conditions in the cell if he wanted to. Pointing this out would only earn more blows later.
“Want me to stay?” the guard asked Kate.
“His cell is locked. I can find my way out.” Her voice had a dull quality, as if she’d been grieving and was resigned to the loss.
Premonition sent an uneasy quiver through him.
“Suit yourself.” The guard raked Kate with a leer that made Jake long to strangle him. “When you wind up your visit, bring that lantern back to the office. He don’t need it out here.”
A moment later, the outside door to the stone jail clanked shut.
Jake combed his fingers through his hair. He picked out a dirty piece of straw. She had to be offended by the stench. Soon, the rats would lose their fear and start scurrying again. He shouldn’t have sent for her. “Kate…” His voice sounded rustier than the hinges on the barred doors. “You shouldn’t be in this place.”
“Come closer. I can’t see you in the shadows.”
“Not sure you want to see me…” He inched forward.
Her eyes widened. “Dear Lord,” she gasped.
Jake didn’t need a mirror to know how bad he looked. “Charley is in worse shape, if that makes you feel better.”
Her face contorted with grief before she bowed her head. “Nothing will make me feel better right now.”
The ache in his side spread to his chest. He deeply regretted his loss of self-control, the punishment he’d meted out with his fists. Mostly he regretted the pain he’d caused an innocent woman who’d never done anything to hurt him. In fact, she had tried desperately to help him, and this was how he repaid her. With shame and heartbreak.
“Henry told me you prevented them from stopping Charley, and he got away.”
“I prevented your friend from shooting Charley in the back,” Jake mumbled around a swollen lip. The facts needed to be clarified.
“From what I hear, you two fought like rabid grizzlies out to kill each other.”
The fight had been inevitable, something that had been building for years. The only thing he could’ve avoided was continuing to pound on his cousin after he’d overpowered him.
Jake hung his head. He’d never experienced such rage. “Charley threatened to go after you.”
Her expression shifted to one of pure terror. “That’s what I feared.”
“He’s lost his mind.” Jake couldn’t explain his cousin’s cruelty any other way. “The man I fought isn’t the same one I grew up with. It might’ve been better to let those men end Charley’s pain. But I couldn’t bring myself to stand by and watch my cousin get shot in the back.”
Kate released a shuddering sigh.
Jake curled his fingers around the bars. He wanted to hold her. Knew better than to try. He didn’t deserve to touch her. Not after what he’d put her through. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you why I left. I thought I could talk him into leaving without involving you.”
Her head came up. All trace of grief vanished, replaced by a controlled expression so unlike her it shook him out of his pain. “You didn’t tell me because you don’t trust me.”
Anger remained the only emotion he could handle at the moment.
“You didn’t trust me, either. Or you wouldn’t have talked to Stevens, and sent that bluecoat after me.”
She drew back, the hurt surprise on her face too spontaneous to be feigned. “I didn’t send anyone after you. I didn’t even know you’d left the hotel until Eden came to my room and told me you were in jail.”
Redbird hadn’t bet
rayed him. The tension banding his heart eased slightly. He still couldn’t figure out how Stevens had known. “You didn’t tell them we broke into the rail car?”
“Of course not. I promised I wouldn’t betray you.” Her wavering voice carried a thread of censure he didn’t understand, considering he was the one in jail.
“The major knew my name.”
“I introduced you to his wife, remember?”
Jake did remember, and in hindsight, supposed he should’ve used an alias. Though his name meant nothing. He hadn’t used it when he spied on the railroad. “Where did Stevens get his information?”
She folded her arms across her chest in a defensive posture. “I saw Henry after you’d been arrested. The major appeared to be very interested in you. He asked quite a few questions.”
Jake’s side began to burn. He shifted his position without letting go of the bars for fear his knees would give way. He’d never seen the major before or Stevens up close, and he and Charley had made certain they weren’t being followed that night.
“What questions?”
“He wanted to know what you looked like. Where and when I met you.”
“How did you answer?”
“I lied. Just as you lied to me.” She dropped her arms, her hands fisted at her sides. “You stole the railroad payroll last May. You and Charley. That’s what you were looking for when you broke into my father’s railcar.”
Her accusation caught Jake off guard. He nearly lost his grip on the bars. How had she put together his connection with the recent break-in and the payroll theft? The major and Stevens had somehow found out or had enough evidence to suspect.
He would hang for certain.
Despair crept over him, followed by a sense of resignation. Or was it relief? Having no more secrets meant being freed from the weight of all the lies. He had longed to be honest with Kate. Only, he hadn’t dredged up enough bravery to reveal the truth about himself. She showed more courage by coming here to confront him.
“Is it true?” she asked, this time softly. Almost as if she wished he would deny it.
He owed her the truth, even if it meant she would never again look at him the way she had in the peach orchard or in front of the hotel. What he’d seen in her eyes, he hadn’t dared name because he couldn’t offer her the kind of promise it would demand. She’d made him believe for a moment that he could give her the world. He’d felt strong and powerful and honorable, and he hadn’t felt that way for so long. Maybe never.
“It’s true.”
“I wondered whether you’d lie.”
Her blunt admission stabbed him worse than the injury to his ribs. His hands slipped and he couldn’t hold on. No more than he could hold onto Redbird. She’d flown from his grasp.
“Jake?” Concern warmed her voice. Her hands closed over his and she held tight. “Are you about to swoon?”
He’d never swooned in his life.
He gritted his teeth while he forced his legs to straighten. “No. Not swooning.”
“Are you sure?”
“Just need to…wrap my ribs.” He spoke in choppy sentences. If he kept his breathing shallow, his side didn’t hurt as much.
She moved her hands to his wrists and circled them with her fingers, pressing against bruises inflicted by handcuffs. He bore the pain without flinching. Having her touch him was worth the momentary discomfort.
Her eyes grew bright. If she cried for him, it meant she still had tender feelings. She hadn’t purged him from her heart entirely. He was a selfish bastard to feel better because she grieved on his account. When had he been anything but selfish?
He reached out and cupped her face, which felt awkward with the bars between them. Bars weren’t the worst thing standing between them.
“You shouldn’t cry for me.”
“I’m not.”
That hurt, and he deserved it. “Why the tears?”
“You asked me that once before. Remember?”
“When you wanted to know why I was taking you back. Now you know.”
“Now I know.” She removed his hands from her face as if she couldn’t bear to have him touch her.
He wrapped his fingers around the bars, wanted to wrench them open, take her in his arms and kiss her until she forgave him. Instead, he held his expression neutral.
Anguish twisted her features. “Why did you let me believe you were a good man?”
“I never told you I was a good man.”
“You never told me you were a low-down crook, either.” She grabbed his sleeve. “What did you do with the money? Did you buy that fancy horse? You certainly didn’t invest it in improvements for your aunt’s home.”
His face got hot. “I didn’t use the money on myself or my family. I used it for a good cause.”
“A good cause?” She took hold of the bars just below his hands, creating the strange illusion she was the one imprisoned. “What would that be?
He hesitated. If he lied or refused to answer, she’d forever believe the worst. On the other hand, if he told her the truth and she betrayed him, those white judges would throw the case out. Then what could he do? He sure as hell couldn’t negotiate any deal with her father. The big chief wouldn’t talk to him anyway. He’d want a hanging.
“If I tell you, you have to swear not to betray me.”
Her brows shot up. “Me betray you?” She released the bars and took a step back. “That’s rich. You’ve betrayed me in every way possible.”
He didn’t flinch at her wrath. She needed a target and he was a deserving one. “It’s not just my family at risk. My whole nation would suffer. I’ve got to have your word.”
“I offered to help you before, did everything I knew to gain your confidence, and that still wasn’t enough. You didn’t trust me then. Why would you trust me now?”
He clenched the bars. “I came here with you, didn’t I?”
“Because I blackmailed you into it.”
“No. I did it because…”
The mask she’d donned to confront him had fallen off and emotions flitted across her face. Concern, hope, longing…
He rested his forehead against the bars. If he said he’d followed her because he couldn’t bear to let her go, it would give her hope, and he’d run out of hope. There was something he could tell her, though. Something he should’ve told her before.
“I believe in you, Kate.” His voice grew rough. “You’re a good person with a pure heart, and... I do trust you.”
Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a sob. “Don’t. Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
“I mean every word. I trust you to do what is right. Even if it’s not easy.”
She inched closer, hurt etched on her face. “Despite what you think, I’m not after revenge. Perhaps your head on a plate, nothing more.”
“You can have it.” Hell, she might as well take his heart while she was at it. He had no use for it without her. “Just give me your word you won’t use what I tell you against my family or my people. I don’t expect you to protect me.”
She might want to throw him down a deep dark hole after he told her what he’d done.
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “All right. You have my word.”
He heaved a sigh of relief. Now he could tell her the truth. “We used the money on the lawsuit to challenge the land grants.”
If he’d told her he used his ill-gotten gains to build a machine to fly to the moon, she couldn’t have looked more surprised. “The lawsuit?”
“I studied the laws and cases pertaining to treaties. Found what I thought was a good defense. None of our people had enough money to support taking a lawsuit to court.”
“So you decided to steal it.”
Stealing wouldn’t have been his first choice. Still, he’d plotted the crime and had to own it.
“Yes.”
The straw crackled beneath her boots as she stepped forward into the light. Rather than disdain, her expression reflected something akin
to dreadful awe. “And Charley? What’s his part in this? Was he the one who suggested taking the payroll?”
She might wish it were so. The answer wasn’t that simple.
He couldn’t blame his cousin for the choices he’d made. On the other hand, Kate deserved to know what had brought him to this point in his life and to the decision to turn to thievery.
“Charley wanted to take money from whites to get the funds we needed. He didn’t have a plan. I knew he’d end up killing somebody if I didn’t do something. So, I suggested we take what we needed from the railroad, and I offered to do the job with him—as long as he agreed not to hurt anybody.”
She shook her head like she didn’t believe his story. Maybe she thought he was trying to make himself look better. “It was my idea to steal the payroll. I planned it and carried it out, with Charley’s help.”
“Like Robin Hood,” she murmured.
Jake wasn’t sure he heard right, being distracted by the pain in his side. He couldn’t remain on his feet any longer. He lowered himself to the greasy straw and leaned against the bars. “Did you say Robin Hood?”
She squatted next to him. “Take from the rich railroad baron and give to the poor tribe. A Cherokee Robin Hood.”
He’d heard the tale, hadn’t made the association. “You could call it that. You could also call it stealing.”
She searched his face. What was she looking for? Some sign of honor and decency in the face of an outlaw. That was only true in stories, not reality.
“I’m not a good person, Kate. I’m sorry if I let you believe that.”
“I haven’t decided about the good part. However, you are very clever. Brilliant, even.”
“Brilliant?” He released a pained laugh. “That’s an improvement over low-down crook.”
She dipped her chin as if embarrassed before returning a faint smile. “I won’t tell my father. Lord, I wish I could, just to see his reaction. He’d be apoplectic. He’s so rarely bested.”
