Untamed Journey
Page 31
Masterson’s man closed the double doors behind him, taking up a position outside the parlor doors.
“My wife speaks fondly of you, Marshal,” Masterson began, the minute both oak-carved doors closed. “Too fondly – tell me why I shouldn’t challenge you here and now?”
Jackson’s hand immediately settled on his pistol, as he silently calculated the odds of killing both Masterson and his man at the door.
Samuel quickly stepped between the two men. “Power, gentlemen. Money and power.” Samuel faced Masterson and handed him a map of several proposed spur lines, which he and Jackson had altered in support of their plan. “Now, as lovely as your wife may be, you are – if I’m not mistaken – newly acquainted. No love lost, in other words. Society will understand when you break a barely-legal arrangement with a stranger of no family, in exchange for a proper wedding with a woman of means.”
“What nonsense are you spouting?” Masterson demanded, pointing his Colt at the papers still held by Samuel.
“This map shows a proposed spur line directly through land owned by either you or Ruth Jameson. If we can come to terms, that land can all be yours, free and clear, to sell at a considerable profit to my employer. In addition, if you’ll agree to marry my sister, you’ll be doing my family a favor. You will be given a role of importance at the Union Pacific that suits my sister’s position in society. Please, gentlemen, take your seats and allow me to explain.”
Samuel outlined his proposition, carefully gauging Masterson’s reaction to each part of the plan. When Samuel’s own chance to profit came to light, Masterson holstered his gun and took a seat.
“I suppose you want the woman out of this?” Masterson challenged, staring directly into Jackson’s black eyes and unsmiling mouth.
“And thirty percent of her holdings,” Jackson added.
“Ten percent, and you can have the harlot for free,” Masterson countered, a satisfied grin spreading across his freshly shaven face.
Jackson could not stop the tick over his left eye, but kept his tongue in check. “Twenty percent, and I let you live for disrespecting my future wife.”
“You’re in love with the girl,” Masterson laughed outright at his rival’s predicament. “I’ll give you the woman – and nothing else.”
“I’m in lust with the woman and will have my twenty percent, or no deal. I’ll arrest you instead for extortion, robbery, and attempted murder.”
“If you had a shred of proof, you’d have arrested me already. And I would have died somewhere between here and the trial judge. You could’ve married the widow and not bothered with the rest.”
“Except my orders are no further delays,” Samuel quickly interjected. “A dead body could cause months of complications. The Union Pacific wants this spur route secured, and Jackson owes me a favor. So do we have a deal, gentlemen?”
“I want to see Ruth first,” Jackson demanded.
“Fine by me.” Masterson opened the parlor doors and ordered his man to fetch Ruth. “She’s as pretty as the first night I brought her home, don’t you worry,” Masterson jibed, as he gave Jackson his back and lit himself a congratulatory cigar.
Jackson curled his fist into his palm, until his nails gouged blood.
Samuel took hold of Jackson’s gun hand, whispering to his cousin, “Patience – wait for a reason, or I’ll be the one breaking you out of prison.”
“So tell me about this sister of yours. Is she pretty?” Masterson asked with little real interest, as he silently counted his profits.
Before Samuel could fabricate physical details of a sister he didn’t have, Ruth walked through the wide double doors of the parlor.
She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Jackson.
“Are you well?” Jackson prompted, alarmed at her continued silence.
Ruth caught herself smiling in relief and joy, before the added presence of Frank Masterson in the room doused her hopes of a rescue. “What’s happening?” Ruth asked, biting her suddenly dry lips.
“A bit of horse-trading, my dear,” Masterson offered, as he tucked Ruth’s icy hand into the crook of his arm. “You see gentlemen, safe and sound. Now I want some assurances that I won’t find myself in prison the minute you two are naked and cozy in the marriage bed. I want a pardon.”
“For what, exactly?” Jackson demanded.
“For every crime committed against the Union Pacific in the past twenty years, as well as any complaints from the former landowners along the new spur line. I can’t be held responsible for every lazy farmer looking to blame me for bad weather and poor soil.”
“We need names – of the others involved,” Jackson insisted. “We’ll say you were duped into financing what you thought was a legitimate effort to purchase the land.”
“I can give you names,” Masterson offered, relieved he now had a way to make a clean break from his past associations and take his new place in society.
“Will you be givin’ out my name, Frank?”
Ruth paled at the familiar sound of Jasper Smith’s voice, and unconsciously started tugging on her arm and sliding toward Jackson on the far side of the room.
Masterson laughed at his old friend’s accusation, but held on tight to Ruth’s arm, in case his wits failed to protect him from the revolver Smith had pointed at his mid-section.
“Put that thing down, Jasper,” Masterson ordered. “I’ve watched your back since we were kids, scraping for food in back alleys. You think I’m going to sell you out now, after all we’ve been through?”
“Don’t know,” Smith muttered, not lowering his gun an inch. “I don’t rightly know, Frank. I been listening at the door for a while now, and didn’t hear my name out of your lying mouth when the pardons were being dished out.”
“Did you hear me give your name to the Marshal here?” Masterson pointed his finger at Jackson, hoping to divert Smith’s attention to a symbol of everything they both hated. “Did you, now?”
“Not directly, I suppose,” Smith admitted. “But you’re being awfully friendly with the Marshal and his proper society friends. Making deals and marrying rich, I hear.”
Jackson halted his slow progress toward Ruth, as Smith waved the gun in his direction.
“Are you accusing me of selling out to the man who stole my wife?” Masterson shouted, yanking Ruth back to his side. “What kind of pathetic sap do you think I am?”
“I think you’re a right-smart son-of-a-bitch, is what I think. Getting a fancy job with the railroad, where you can sit on your lazy ass all day, and watch it grow fat as you count your rich wife’s money. It was me that did all the work, risking my own neck while you sat home safe and cozy in your fancy parlor.” Smith waved his pistol at the imported electric lights and real glass windows that filled the room. “It was me that had this ungrateful penny whore put a bullet in my side, while you got to sample her.”
“She shot you?” Masterson turned to Ruth in confusion. “Now why would a sweet thing like you point at a gun at my hired man? Would one of you please explain that?”
Jackson signaled to his cousin to halt where he was, as Samuel now had a clear line of fire to Masterson. Jackson was barely six feet away from Ruth now, inching closer each time Jasper Smith turned his full attention back to Masterson. The Marshal palmed his hunting knife, carefully concealing it from Smith’s view.
Jackson balanced on the balls of his feet, waiting for an opening.
Ruth flinched as Frank Masterson’s fingers bit into her upper arm, demanding a response.
“Tell me the truth,” he shook Ruth hard when she remained silent. “What happened on that train?”
“You keep your mouth shut, girl,” Smith barked his demand. “I’m givin’ orders now. This here husband of yours is tossing you aside for a better wife. You’d do better taking up with me.”
“Smith, you’d best learn your place,” Masterson shouted, his face turning purple. “You’ve been taking my orders all your life, and you’ll keep at it until
I say different.”
Smith took a step closer, narrowing his eyes against nearly four decades of lying crushed under the booted heel of Frank Masterson.
Ruth took one long look into Jasper Smith’s eyes and panicked. Masterson’s greater height gave her the advantage she needed as she moved to bite down with all her strength into her husband’s meaty shoulder.
Jackson barreled into Ruth, knocking her flat to the ground and taking the punch of Masterson’s fist as he swung for Ruth’s clamping jaw.
Masterson’s bellow of rage turned on Smith, standing three fateful steps away.
“Shoot her, you fool,” Masterson shouted, spittle flying from his gaping mouth.
When Smith didn’t respond as ordered, Masterson reached his bloodied arm over and slapped Smith hard on the cheek. “I gave you an order.”
Smith’s hand shook only a little when he pulled the trigger, killing his only friend.
The look of satisfaction in Smith’s eyes gave Masterson his first and only taste of shock and horror, as he felt the life drain out of the gaping hole in his stomach.
Jackson rolled to his feet, pushing Ruth behind him as gunfire erupted.
When Jasper Smith turned his sights in their direction, Jackson threw his knife at the man’s face, ruining his aim. Jackson launched himself full force into Smith’s knees, knocking him to the ground.
Smith lost his grip on the revolver as Jackson’s weight threw him off balance and tumbled him to the floor.
He quickly recovered, punching Jackson in the kidney as his adrenaline rush gave him the strength to toss the younger man’s weight to the side.
Jackson felt a rib crack as he landed sideways. He saw Smith reaching for his gun and scrambled for control of the weapon. Jackson dug two fingers into Smith’s elbow, slackening his grip as the muscles contracted, nearly useless. Then Jackson grabbed the pistol and aimed for Smith’s head, just as the enraged man launched himself at the Marshal.
Jackson pulled the trigger just before Smith’s furious weight landed on his broken ribs.
Ruth swallowed her scream as she saw Jackson fall under Jasper Smith and heard gunfire all around. She stumbled to the left as Samuel shot Masterson’s guard, who had come running at the sound of the first shot.
Scrambling toward Jackson, Ruth looked frantically for signs of life.
When he sucked air back in to his starved lungs, the pain in his ribs nearly crushed all ability to speak. He wedged his boot under Smith’s heavy hip and pushed the dead man off him, then his gaze swept the room for Ruth.
When she launched herself into Jackson’s arms, he held her tightly as he scanned the remaining occupants of the room, looking for new threats.
Jackson’s cousin nodded his reassurance as he took watch at the front door, anticipating the arrival of Emmett and Mike in response to shots fired.
As Ruth relished the comfort and relief of Jackson’s warmth surrounding her, she glanced towards Jasper Smith, lying face down on the fancy wool rug.
Next to his murdered partner and childhood friend was the ancient Colt revolver Ruth’s father had given her the day he set off to war.
Epilogue
“Get back in bed, this minute,” Ruth scolded, as she turned around to see Jackson sitting up and struggling to pull a shirt over his bandaged ribs.
“Glad to, if you’ll join me.” Jackson offered, as he did his best to hide a grimace of pain.
“Don’t be absurd,” she replied. “You need to let those ribs heal so you can carry me over the threshold.”
“Marry me tomorrow, and I’ll find a way to carry you to the other side, several times over,” he teased with a smile. “Nothing important was damaged.”
She blushed several shades of pink, and placed a cup of coffee in Jackson’s hands to keep them occupied.
“You have to be patient.” Ruth smiled as she sidestepped Jackson’s arms and grabbed his breakfast tray. “Three weeks is hardly any time at all to wait. It barely gives Catherine’s daughter time to finish my dress. She wants to start making her own money before deciding on a husband. Catherine says her daughter has talent, just like her sister so many years ago. Now eat your breakfast.”
“My ribs will be fine in a few days. I’ve taken worse,” Jackson insisted, gulping down the last of his coffee and a third biscuit. “Tell her to hurry with the sewing. I want the woman I love by my side.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Ruth promised. “This is my home now.”
“So why did I hear you talking about building a house up in your meadow?” he asked. “Are you planning to boot me out when cabin fever takes hold this winter?”
“That’s a surprise for Sue,” Ruth explained. “She gets her own home, closer to her crops. And I can use her rooms to see patients. That’s another reason why you need to get back in bed and heal quickly. How on earth will I convince folks to let me treat them if my own husband doesn’t heal properly?”
He let Ruth lead him back towards the bed, where he quickly pulled her off balance and into his lap for a long and promising kiss. “If we time our first child right, folks will have living proof of your healing skills,” Jackson insisted, as he pulled a laughing Ruth into his bed to while away the afternoon playing doctor.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Epilogue