Jessie's War (Civil War Steam)

by Connors, Meggan

  “You can’t know that,” Jessie said. “I can handle myself. Tell them, Luke.”

  Luke ran his hands through his hair. He closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his face. “You’ve done good, Jess.”

  “He didn’t say you wouldn’t get in the way,” Parker snorted when Jessie looked at him triumphantly, “so you don’t need to preen for me like a pretty little peahen. You’ll compromise us.”

  “Untrue.”

  “You’re naive if you think it isn’t true.” He motioned to Luke. “Because of you, he got stabbed in the chest during a fight with one man.” Parker ignored her sound of angry protest. “Don’t try to convince me you weren’t to blame. He’s been my partner for years, and I’ve never once seen a lone man get a jump on him. You’re a distraction we can’t afford. You’re not going.”

  Parker turned to Luke. “You shouldn’t be going, either. You won’t be able to do what needs to be done. Our orders were clear—we’re supposed to keep her out of Confederate hands, not deliver her to them with a pretty bow.”

  Something inside Jessie snapped like a brittle twig. “You know what? You don’t get to tell me what to do.” She pointed at Luke. “And neither do you.”

  “No?” Parker demanded. “He’s your husband, isn’t he? Didn’t you promise to obey him?”

  “I didn’t promise much of anything, and neither did he. It wasn’t that kind of wedding.”

  “Doesn’t sound like much of a wedding at all.”

  “I don’t expect a white man to understand, but I wager my Shoshone brothers would,” Jessie snapped back.

  The muscles in Parker’s jaw worked as he ground his teeth together.

  “Enough, Jess,” Luke said. “Solo’s right. I’m compromised as long as you’re with me, and this whole idea is in direct violation of the orders I was given when I took this assignment.” He rubbed the scar on his forehead as if it hurt. “I can get your father out, but I’ll go in alone.”

  “And you’ll die.” She picked up a photograph and waved it at him. “You’re obviously an enemy, but I’m not. If you’re with me, you might not be considered one, either.”

  Luke opened his mouth to respond, but Whitfield interrupted. “She has a point.”

  “Thank you,” Jessie said.

  “No decisions have been made yet.” Jameson’s voice carried a whisper of warning. He unfolded his arms and rested his hand on the ivory handle of his pistol. “And Whitfield is right, she’s got a point. We’d use a man in this same situation.”

  “But she’s not a man, is she? No, she’s the wife of the man who proposes to lead us in, the daughter of the man we’re going in after. Too dangerous.”

  Luke gestured to Parker with his chin. “As much as I dislike what Solo here has to say, he’s right. Jessie, you must stay here.”

  “No. If, Heaven forbid, my father’s dead, I know what he was working on. I’ll get the papers for you.”

  “Write down what the information, and give it to Whitfield,” Luke said.

  “And you think he will know what to look for?” Jessie asked.

  “He’s our resident scientist.”

  Jessie’s gaze shifted from Whitfield to Luke and back again. “So much for not being much of a reader.”

  Whitfield grinned and made a vague gesture with his shoulders. “As I recall, you said the same thing, but I hear you build a mean revolving shotgun.” He turned to Parker. “She can get us closer to the target. If we aren’t forced to fight the natives, we’ll be better equipped to deal with the Confederates when we come across them.”

  “Our orders were to keep her away from the Rebs,” Parker repeated. “Besides, from what the Pinkerton fellow said, no one even knows precisely what this invention is.”

  “Trust me, you don’t want them to have this invention,” Jessie said.

  It wasn’t a bluff, not entirely. In those years after Gideon died and Luke had stopped writing, Pop had retreated into his own world. When she’d told Luke her father hadn’t talked to her about his invention, she’d told the truth—Pop barely spoke about much of anything of any consequence. In those early months after Gideon’s death, every time Jessie would speak, her father’s features would tighten, and he’d go down to his study and stay there for hours. He threw himself into his inventions, obsessed with the idea of creating something that would end the war. Not weapons—he didn’t believe in weapons, and certainly not after Gideon died. But just because he didn’t describe his project as a weapon didn’t mean it couldn’t be used that way.

  After all, the blue silver alloy allowing airships to fly also made explosive shells capable of hitting a town over a hundred miles away—farther if the land was flat. What began as an invention to help the human race by making travel and shipping easier and more affordable became the most effective weapon the Confederacy possessed.

  The development that had brought so much good to the world was also one of the reasons why Jessie’s brother was buried in some anonymous grave in West Virginia. The idea had destroyed her father, and he became obsessed with the idea of rendering such technology useless.

  Jessie knew, because the only time her father even interacted with her at all was when he allowed her to help him with his work. Only down there, entombed in his study, did he permit her to glimpse his world.

  He had never came into Jessie’s, and she never asked him to.

  She rubbed at the pain in her chest. The past was past. What mattered now was getting him back.

  Luke took her hand. “You don’t know what the invention is, do you? You told me you didn’t.”

  “I also told you I wouldn’t tell you if I did.” Jessie toyed nervously her grandfather’s talisman, hanging around her neck.

  Luke shook his head, just once, and set his jaw. “So you do know?”

  “Yeah, but remember, he didn’t consider it a weapon,” Jessie answered. The knot in her throat grew and expanded until her voice sounded strangled, even to her own ears. “Pop didn’t like weapons. He thought of it as a tool.”

  Parker snorted. “The Rebs don’t need a tool, and neither do we. It’s great if it’s helpful and all, but tools don’t win wars.”

  “This would,” she answered quietly. “Just because my father refused to think of it as a weapon doesn’t mean it isn’t one.”

  Parker scoffed.

  Luke worried his lower lip and watched her, his body still and quiet, like a cat preparing to pounce.

  “What is it, Jess?” he asked finally.

  Jessie shifted her weight uncomfortably and looked out the window past his head, unable to meet his eyes. “As the developer of the blue silver, Pop understood the chemical reactions in the formulas better than anyone. There wasn’t anything he didn’t know about it.”

  “Yeah,” Luke said.

  “So… he was working on a device that would disrupt the flow of energy over the blue silver. Set it off, and poof. No more energy.” Jessie made a slow, exploding motion with her fingers.

  Her words hung heavy in the air as everyone processed this information.

  “Shit,” Elizabeth said in her cultured British accent.

  “If the Confederacy has this…” Jameson turned to his wife. His features tightened, and he cut himself off as if unable to finish the thought.

  “Yeah,” Jessie said grimly. “Your airships will fall from the sky.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Jesus Christ.” Luke pulled his hand over his mouth, and his jaw locked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I’m sorry, she mouthed.

  When he finally brought himself to look at Jessie, her eyes were bright with tears, and Luke had to look away.

  “At first, I wanted to talk to Hiram and figure out what was going on. After that, there never seemed to be the time.” Her words were fast and desperate.

  Luke shook his head and closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at her, didn’t want to listen to her. She had the time to tell him. She simply hadn’t.

&nb
sp; “You said something about papers earlier,” Whitfield said.

  Jessie didn’t move toward him, like he expected her to.

  “Yeah.” Her tone was bleak. “When I looked for my father’s notes on his invention, they were gone. I—”

  The anger Luke held in check erupted from his chest. “Goddammit, Jessie! What else haven’t you—”

  His words were drowned out by a chorus of shouts.

  “So the Confederates have—”

  “I told you this was a bad idea!”

  “Silence!” Elizabeth shouted, slamming her hands palms down on the table. Everyone turned to her in surprise. “That’s better. Go on, Jessie.”

  She shook her head weakly. “That’s all. The papers are gone. If the Rebels didn’t have them before, they do now. I suspect Hiram is the one who stole them in the first place.” She stared at her hands.

  He rubbed his face and gave her a small, disappointed shake of her head. There was so much she’d failed to tell him. He turned from her and walked toward the bank of windows, studying the mountains in the distance.

  There is so much you’ve failed to tell her, too, a voice in his head whispered.

  He’d become accustomed to the secrets and the lies. No one told the truth anymore. Why had he expected so much more from her than he expected from himself and everyone else?

  Because she’s so much better than we are. Because I want her to trust me like she once did.

  “The papers were gone when we got there, Luke,” Jessie pressed, as if to him alone. “The Rebs either didn’t have them or the notes weren’t adequate, because they blew up the door. Why break in if you’ve got everything you need?”

  Luke clasped his hands behind his back and didn’t answer.

  “Is there anything else?” Jameson finally asked.

  “No. That’s everything.” She paused for a moment, and her voice shook. “Please believe me, Luke.”

  “There’s not much she can do about it now,” Elizabeth said, and Luke got the sense her words were meant for him. “She’s told her story, and I think it’s adequate. We couldn’t have acted any sooner than today, anyway.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us about the papers?” Parker’s question was like a knife in Luke’s chest.

  “You mean, when you were threatening to shoot me in the back? Should I have told you then?” Jessie snapped.

  “No, I mean when you were with Luke.”

  She was quiet for a long time. “That’s between me and Luke.”

  “Whose side are you on? Seems to me you’re not on ours.” Parker voice was low pitched and dangerous. “Probably not on his, either.”

  “That’s enough,” Luke said, turning. Parker had no business questioning Jessie in such a fashion. Jessie was his. “It’s not her fault, Solo. It’s mine.” He turned to Jameson. “We need to get George White out. If he really can build something like this, we can’t allow it to slip away. The Rebs will eventually find some way to convince him he needs to comply.”

  “You mean torture?” Jessie gasped.

  Luke couldn’t bring himself to answer.

  “True.” Jameson ignored Jessie’s question, and Luke forced himself to relax. As long as Jameson didn’t see her as a threat to this mission, she’d be safe. “I agree with you, Luke. We need to get him out.”

  “But it shouldn’t be us,” Parker said, shaking his head. “It sure as hell shouldn’t be her.”

  “He’s my father,” Jessie said.

  “That’s my point. You’re too close.” Parker’s eyes met Luke’s. “So is he. Send another team.”

  “Where are we gonna get another team on such short notice?” Whitfield asked. “Where are they going to get an operative who speaks Shoshone? Relations with the native tribes are barely a step above hostile. John Singing Death’s granddaughter being in our party will certainly help. We couldn’t do better if we had a member of that particular tribe helping us. Any other team would take her.”

  “Another team doesn’t have Luke,” Parker argued. “He’ll take unnecessary risks to protect her. The mission won’t be the most important thing on this job. She will be.”

  “We don’t have weeks to assemble another team,” Whitfield said. “Time is short, Mordecai. If they find out we’ve located him, they’ll move him and we’ll lose him.”

  Please no. Please. She can’t come. I can’t have her with me if I’m forced to do what needs to be done.

  “You must to choose,” Whitfield said to Jameson, and his British accent seemed more pronounced. “Solo and I will never reach an accord.”

  Parker shook his head and frowned. He understood Luke better than anyone else on the team ever had. Only one other person had ever had his back the way Solo did.

  Luke looked at Jessie.

  “Bradshaw doesn’t want her to come either,” Parker pointed out. “Two against one. The problem is solved.”

  “I’m team leader and this is my decision.” Jameson put his hands on the dark wood table and picked up the artist’s drawing of the landscape. He studied the picture for a long time. “I wouldn’t be able to talk you out of going, would I?” he asked Luke.

  “No.”

  “If I told you to stay here, you’d still find your way there, wouldn’t you?” Jameson motioned to the stack of photographs.

  Luke lifted his chin. “You can’t take me off this case, Jameson.” He held his hands loosely by his sides, preparing for a fight. “I’ve always had your back. Always. Now I want you to return the favor.”

  “Calling in favors? Pretty low, Bradshaw,” Parker snapped.

  Luke fought to keep his expression bland. “This is my case. I fought for it. You know what I did to get it, and I told you why when it came out for assignment. This isn’t a surprise.”

  “Yeah, but you failed to mention she’s your wife.”

  “She wasn’t at the time.”

  Parker’s face tightened. “You failed to mention other things, too.”

  “Don’t.” Luke folded his arms over his chest.

  “Why not?” Parker demanded. “Since we’re actually considering this fool’s idea, shouldn’t everything be on the table?”

  “I’m telling you, don’t do this.” Luke’s voice was little more than an angry snarl, and beneath his crossed arms, his hands were balled into fists. Ready to fight. Wanting to fight.

  “Stop.” Jameson met each man’s eyes in turn. “Jonah’s right. Time isn’t on our side. We’re not going to be able to negotiate with the Shoshone to allow us into their territory. We’re not going to find anyone else who can get us in on such short notice. So we’re left with two choices. Fight our way in or take her with us.”

  “I’d rather fight my way in, frankly,” Parker said.

  “For what purpose?” Whitfield asked. “I say, let’s take her.”

  Though Luke recognized the logic in Whitfield’s words, he couldn’t bring himself to voice it. Couldn’t face the idea of taking her with him into what awaited them inside that mountain.

  Anyone but Jessie. He’d risk heaven and hell to get George White out. He wouldn’t risk her.

  Parker motioned to Luke. “He’s compromised. If it were any of the rest of us, I’d not be so reluctant. But it’s him.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Whitfield snapped.

  Parker shook his head tightly. He turned to Jessie. “Don’t take this personal, Missus. I’ve got nothing against you. But he won’t be objective if you’re there, and quite possibly if you’re not. On a mission like this, we need him to be objective, and he can’t be. Too much is at stake.”

  Her eyes shifted over to Luke. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Luke tried to quell the despair rising in him like the tide, threatening to drown him. She deserved to know the truth. “It’s nothing,” he said instead.

  “Bullshit,” Parker snapped. “Why don’t you tell her what our orders are? Why don’t you tell her what you agreed to when you said our team should ge
t this assignment?”

  “You know damn well why. Don’t try my patience, Solo.”

  He couldn’t tell her. Wouldn’t tell her. She never had to know.

  “What is it?” Jessie asked. Her body had gone still and quiet, her hands immobile. Only her eyes moved as they roamed his face.

  She’d betrayed him by not telling him the truth in the first place.

  She’d loved him more than anyone in his life.

  She’d hate him for what he’d done, and what he’d agreed to do.

  His thoughts flashed back to what they’d shared the night before, when she’d told him she loved him again. For the first time since he’d left her eight years before, he felt whole.

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry.” He shook his head at Parker, hoping he would understand why Luke couldn’t tell her. “I won’t let it come to that.”

  “You can’t know that. Are you going to be able to do what might need to be done?”

  “Solomon Parker, you will stop this instant.” Elizabeth put her hands on her hips “Let him tell her.”

  “He never will.” Parker’s voice was bland.

  Jessie wiped her palms on her skirt, her dark eyes wide, her lips tight. “Tell me what?”

  “He—”

  “Dammit, Parker, shut up!” Luke roared. Violence surged through him, and he shot forward to slam his fist into Parker’s face.

  The room erupted as Whitfield grabbed Luke by the arms before he could land another blow and yanked him backwards. Luke lunged again.

  Jameson hit him in the center of his chest with the flat of his hand so hard Luke stumbled. “Enough!” he shouted. “Enough.”

  Fury burned hot and bright inside his chest, and Luke jerked his arm out of Whitfield’s grasp.

  Parker straightened and dabbed at the blood at the corner of his lips. He scowled at Luke, and then turned to Jessie. “He’ll never tell you, and you’ll go in blind. You’ll never know our orders expressly state that if we can’t get your Pop out, we must make sure the Rebs don’t keep him.”

  Luke howled an angry, wordless protest and threw himself at Parker again. Whitfield, standing between the two men, put his shoulder down and hit Luke in the chest, knocking him back.