by E. E. Burke
He mounted behind her, taking care to give her as much space as he could. "Call me Jake."
"Jake," she repeated in a soft voice that sent shivers down his spine. What would it be like to hear her whisper his name in the throes of passion? "Is that short for Jacob?"
"Yes," he said through his teeth. He hoped for once she wouldn't sit back because he couldn't hide the affect she had on him, even if he somehow managed to mask how deeply she'd touched his heart.
"I'm Kate."
Not Mrs. Stevens or Miss Whatever…just Kate. This told him nothing. There were hundreds of women with that name. Of course, there were quite a few men named Jake, too. He hadn't told her his full name and wouldn't. Why make it easier for her to send him to the gallows?
She gripped the saddle horn, looking painfully uncomfortable as she held herself erect. He hardened his heart. He wasn’t about to let her sit on his lap. Not after that near disaster. What if she’d gotten his gun? Scared as she was, she might’ve ended up shooting both of them.
The shadows had lengthened by the time they reached the valley that cradled the familiar farm. At some point, Kate had tired and her head bobbed, as if she were dozing. Giving in, Jake cradled her against him. Her scent stirred up images of pale limbs and rose-tipped breasts.
He jerked his nose out of her hair, holding her just enough to keep her from falling off the horse. He had to remember Kate belonged to the railroad man, and thus, was his enemy.
Only, she didn’t feel like an enemy when she was in his arms.
As soon as he reached the house, he’d leave Redbird in the care of his aunt so he could set off after Charley and figure out a way to return her peacefully. Once she was out of his life for good, these uncomfortable feelings would go away.
Chapter 4
“The white woman cannot stay.” Jake’s aunt propped her hands on her hips. The top of her head didn’t even reach his shoulder, but she managed to convey more authority than a war chief. She leveled a disapproving look, the kind he’d rarely gotten in all the years he’d spent in her home. “You bring shame on our family by taking her from her people. Don’t make it worse by keeping her.”
“I’m not keeping her, e-tlo-g." Jake paced the floor of the one-room cabin, trying not to walk too heavily on the planks. After arriving last night and finding the house deserted, he’d sent Kate up to the loft to sleep. She had to be exhausted. He was. He’d curled up at the foot of the stairs so he could guard her and what little sleep he’d gotten hadn’t been enough. He had to convince his aunt to keep her or he'd never get a moment's rest.
"She needs a safe place to stay while I figure out how to return her without causing more trouble. I don't want the soldiers coming after us."
“You should’ve thought about that before you took her.” Na waved her hands and made a sound of disgust, then turned and went to the fireplace to tend the herbs she’d put in a skillet of lard to make a salve. She was the local healer and midwife, and had been out all night delivering a baby. Lack of sleep had made her grouchy, and finding a white woman in her bed hadn’t improved her mood.
“Why would you do a thing like that?” she demanded.
“The woman caught us in a private railcar,” Jake explained. He speared his fingers through his hair. He and Charley had told everyone they were involved in business dealings that were producing money to pay for the lawsuit. Their family would be horrified to learn the truth. “Tsa-li panicked and threatened her.”
“Threatened her?” Na whirled around, her eyes wide with shock. “Why would he do that?”
How did he tell his aunt Charley had threatened to slit a woman’s throat? “He was afraid she might accuse us of stealing.”
Na’s eyes drew down in a look of profound sadness. “What have you done, Wa-ya?”
Jake’s insides knotted. His mother’s eldest sister had taken him in, raised him as one of her own, and now he repaid her with shame. He sat at the table, pushing away the plate he’d nearly licked clean after she’d put breakfast in front of him. “I did only what I had to do to protect our family and our people.”
“Taking a white woman is not protecting us. That is bringing us trouble. Has Tsa-li drawn you into this?”
How easy it would be to blame his hotheaded cousin whose hatred of whites was legendary.
“No, it was my idea.” Jake propped his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands. If Na wouldn’t shelter Redbird, what the hell was he going to do? He couldn’t keep her with him. He was too susceptible, couldn’t think clearly when she was around.
His aunt’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. She squeezed, a comforting gesture. “Go to the council. Talk to them. Seek their guidance.”
He shook his head. Bringing the council into this would make things worse. They might banish him and Charley, or turn them over to the authorities, or worse, try to cover for them. Whatever happened, it would spell disaster. He didn’t care about his reputation or his life, but he cared about his family and didn’t want to see them suffer because of his mistakes.
From the stairs came a creak. He jerked his head up. Kate peered around the wall. As he came to his feet, their eyes met. His traitorous mind retrieved memories of the smoldering kisses they’d shared. Desire coursed through him, followed by a fierce protectiveness.
Redbird put a hand to her pink cheek. Had she seen his hunger, or worse, seen his need to protect her?
He masked the unwelcome feelings with what he hoped was an impassive expression. “Good morning.”
She nodded and ventured a few steps into the room. The curls at her hairline were damp as if she’d washed up, and a thick braid hung over her shoulder. She wore the homespun dress he’d left hanging over a chair along with a decorative belt, which she’d cinched at her waist. She didn’t look odd in his aunt’s clothes. In fact, it seemed natural for Redbird to be dressed like a Cherokee woman.
Jake dismissed the thought. It triggered yearnings better left buried. She wasn’t Cherokee and could never fit into his world, not to mention he’d likely be hung before this was over.
Kate’s brow furrowed with what he now recognized as worry.
Na smoothed her features into pleasantness. Regardless of how his aunt felt about the situation, she would treat Kate with kindness. “Come sit down. I'll get you breakfast."
Kate’s eyebrows arched in surprise. Was it because she’d been greeted in English, or because food had been offered? Did she think they were going to starve her?
She didn’t take the chair he pulled out next to him. Instead, she sat opposite, and kept him in a wary gaze. Was she still afraid? He wanted her to feel safe, but that was about as likely as a sheep feeling safe with a wolf.
His aunt bustled around the room, working with her usual brisk efficiency. She transferred corn cakes from a skillet onto a plate, along with thick slices of bacon. On the way back to the table, she snagged a teapot resting on an iron spider over the coals. She was always generous and hospitable and opened her home to anyone needing food or shelter. He had to make a final appeal, for Kate’s sake, as well as his own sanity.
Jake addressed his aunt in Tsa-la-gi. “Let the woman stay, e-tlo-g. Just for a few days, while I look for Charley. Then I’ll take her back.”
###
Kate tensed as Jake switched to his native tongue. When she’d woken to the sound of voices, she’d been horrified by the possibility he’d brought her home to a wife and family.
But the Indian woman looked to be quite a bit older than Jake and didn’t act like a jealous wife. Her pleasant expression didn’t change as she set a plate of food on the table and poured what smelled like sassafras tea into a cup. "Let us speak English, for the sake of our guest."
"Forgot," Jake muttered.
There wasn't a chance that was true. He just didn't want his “guest” to understand what he was saying. Still, the exchange was telling. Only a woman who’d raised a man from childhood would feel free to speak to him in such a ma
nner, and only a son would let her get away with it.
Kate took a sip of the tea. Jake watched her as intently as a predator spying its next meal. Warmth spread beneath her skin. She dropped her gaze to her plate. The savory smells made her stomach rumble, but her mind wasn’t on food.
What was he planning to do with her? Had he told the older woman? She seemed friendly enough. Perhaps in conversation she’d let down her guard and reveal something useful.
Kate fixed a smile on her hostess. “I beg your pardon. We haven't been properly introduced. Please, call me Kate. Are you Jake’s mother?”
Lines creased the woman’s nut-brown cheeks as her lips curved in a smile. "I'm his aunt, on his mother's side. You may call me Na."
"Has Jake told you why I'm here?"
"I told her you needed somewhere safe to stay until I can take you home." His eyes warned against further questioning.
Kate’s shoulders tightened. He wouldn’t silence her, but she’d proceed with caution. She leaned in and lowered her voice. "Am I safe?"
"Yes." He spoke with such conviction she believed him. Although it was clear she wouldn’t get an explanation.
She poured thick, black syrup over flat cakes made from cornmeal, a far cry from the fluffy pancakes she was used to, but delicious nonetheless. As she ate, she mulled over her situation. Jake had brought her to his aunt’s home, seen to it she had a bed to sleep on, clean clothing, food, and he hadn’t molested her even though he’d been given more than enough chances. Aside from abducting her, he’d treated her decently. Yet, he’d made it clear he didn’t intend to return her anytime soon. Perhaps he didn’t believe she could get him the money he wanted and was planning to ask the railroad for a ransom.
Kate’s throat grew tight as she recalled the last contentious conversation with her father. If a ransom note arrived, even one addressed to Henry, it would raise such a ruckus she’d be shipped her off to Timbuktu. She had to convince Jake to allow her to arrange her own release. “You needn’t bother Henry about money.”
"Why not?” Jake’s gaze turned speculative. “Doesn't he want you?"
Her face grew warm. Honestly, she had no idea whether Henry wanted her. He wanted the benefits that would come from being married to her, but he might not consider her one of them. Still, he’d do whatever necessary to ensure her safe return. But she wasn’t giving Jake more fodder for his ill-conceived notion. "I told you, Henry doesn't own me."
"Then why were you following the railroad?"
How dare he question her? She wasn’t the criminal. "Why were you stealing from it?"
Annoyance flashed across his face, along with something that hinted at more complex emotions. He rested his arms on the table, leaning forward, as if he were directing his response only to her. "Because they're stealing from us."
His remark took her aback. She had presumed he’d abducted her for money, but now he revealed a different motive. "What exactly have they taken?"
His lips pressed together. Was he not going to answer?
Na stood with her back to them, washing dishes out of a bucket, as there appeared to be no running water. She wore a simple, homespun dress similar to the one left out for Kate. The house consisted of one room, which served as both kitchen and sitting area, and a loft with a cornhusk mattress for a bed. The windows had curtains but no glass, the walls were unfinished, and the furnishings hewn by hand. What could the railroad possibly want from these people? They had next to nothing.
Kate rephrased her question. “What makes you believe the railroad is stealing from you?”
"They plan to lay track through our land without our permission. If that's not stealing, I don't know what is."
Now his charge made sense. His family’s lands must be part of what would be included in the government grants. The issue of land rights had caused riots among the settlers and alienated the Indians. It was a thorny problem, but not insurmountable.
Her shoulders sagged with relief. This shed a whole new light on the situation. His actions had convinced her he wasn’t an evil man, and now it appeared he wasn’t some common thief out for his own gain. He was trying to protect his family. Only, he was going about it the wrong way.
What if she helped him resolve his complaint? She’d gain more than her freedom. She’d have the trust of a Cherokee family, which could pave the way for talks with the council. Henry hadn’t been able to get their leaders to the table no matter how many bribes he’d offered.
"Perhaps the route can be altered,” she suggested.
His aunt turned, as if she was going to speak, but Jake cut her off.
"It doesn't matter where they put the track. The land down here doesn't belong to them.” He held Kate in a narrowed gaze, almost as if accusing her of personally overseeing the deed.
A lump rose in Kate’s throat. He’d truly hate her if he knew her father owned the railroad. “Certainly, there are a few legal issues to be resolved, but that won’t change anything. Even if you stop the Katy, another railroad will find a way through. The economic incentive is too great.”
“You mean whites are too greedy to be satisfied with what they have.”
Had he purposely misconstrued her meaning?
“I meant you don't have to view this as an evil thing. Having a rail line could be beneficial." She looked around the primitive cabin. “It could bring in useful appliances. Goods would be more affordable.”
“If we had money to buy them,” he grumbled.
“You will. The railroad will bring jobs.”
“Don’t forget white settlers. The railroad will bring them in by the droves.”
Why he’d resent white immigration, she could understand, but he wouldn’t halt it by breaking the law. How could she get him to look at the positives?
“You have to admit, your people have realized benefits from embracing progress.” She ticked off what she knew. “The Cherokee are civilized, forward-thinking people. Your nation has a constitution and a written language. Your children are educated in schools and seminaries—”
“We weren’t animals lurking in the forests before your people showed up.” Jake’s eyes blazed. “Adopting a constitution based on your government’s laws changed our culture, a culture that’s been around far longer than whites have been here. And it didn’t necessarily make things better. In some ways, it made things worse.”
“I-I’m sorry,” Kate stammered. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. I do respect your culture and your history. What I know of it. I’d like to know more...”
The anger that had flared in his gaze slowly transformed into something very different, but just as intense. Her body tingled in response. His frown deepened. Whatever this thing between them, he wasn’t happy about it.
Her face got so hot she was sure it had to be poppy red. “What I was trying to say is, you’ve recognized good things and used them to your benefit. You could do the same with the railroad.”
Jake crossed his arms over his chest. “We tried compromise, but your people don’t want peace. They drove our ancestors off their lands, and now they want to take what little we have left and give it to rich white men.”
Was this how he saw her, as part of a conquering, deceitful race? Kate’s spirits fell. She had his people’s interests at heart, but why should she assume he would trust her, or that she knew better? She needed Jake’s help as much, if not more, than he needed hers.
“I’m sure there’s a solution that would protect your family’s interests, as well as the railroad’s.”
His gaze went flat. “That’s not possible. Our interests are at cross purposes."
“It is possible, if each side gives a little—”
"Why would the railroad give anything if they're counting on getting our land for free?"
Good question. The release of those grants was tied up in court. But in the meantime the railroad needed to keep building—or go bankrupt. That’s why her father was so anxious to hammer out a deal. However, revealing the
railroad’s uncertain financial situation wouldn’t gain Jake’s cooperation. It would only strengthen his resolve to hole up and hold out.
She chose her words carefully. “At the moment, there’s a window of opportunity, if an acceptable compromise can be reached."
His aunt stopped washing dishes. Apparently, the conversation was getting interesting. She inched closer to Jake. “What kind of compromise?”
“I’m sure our definitions differ,” he muttered.
“I’m sure they do,” Kate acknowledged. “But thus far, neither side has been willing to have a meaningful discussion. We could change that.”
"Unless you can reverse those tracks, I don't see how."
Kate fisted her hands on her lap. She couldn’t help him if he insisted on being stubborn. “I can’t stop the railroad, even if I wanted to. The Katy won the right to build and the treaty calls for the line to go through Cherokee land. You won’t alter its direction by holding me hostage.”
His aunt put her hand on Jake’s shoulder, her face drawn with concern. “She speaks the truth, Wa-ya. You must be careful which wolf you feed.”
Was she urging Jake to listen to his conscience? What would it tell him—to cooperate, or wage war? He didn’t strike her as the hotheaded type. Rather, he seemed a man more comfortable with peace.
Taking a chance, Kate pressed ahead. "Wouldn't you rather do something that gives everyone an advantage instead of fighting a war you can't win?"
His arms remained crossed, his posture closed. “How do I know this isn’t another one of your tricks?”
“What would that buy me? More time spent with you?”
He scowled at her. “You think I’d trust someone who tried to get our leaders drunk so they’d sign away their rights?"
She felt positively dirty for even being associated with that carousal. "The party was Henry's idea."
Jake arched an eyebrow like she'd made his point.
“I didn’t agree with him. In fact, I tried to talk them out of it.”
“Them?”
