Kate's Outlaw (Steam! Romance and Rails)

by E. E. Burke

  They rode in relative silence the remainder of the journey and reached town shortly before dusk. He maneuvered past carts and wagons packing the rutted street. Ladore was growing as fast as a six-month-old puppy and looked about as awkward, with boards thrown down as makeshift sidewalks and canvas tents standing in for businesses and homes. However, the permanent structures were going up fast, if the steady crack of hammers was any indication.

  Once they'd reached the hotel, Jake helped her down. His hands remained around her waist a moment longer than necessary and his eyes lingered on her face. He seemed…sad.

  Kate’s heart revived. Maybe he did have tender feelings for her, and he’d realized he was going to miss her. She longed to put her arms around him, but that would spark questions neither of them were prepared to answer. She must stop ruminating on the future and focus on the present. "I’ll need to introduce you. But you never gave me your surname.”

  He frowned. Was he annoyed she’d asked, or hesitant to trust her? “Colson,” he said at last.

  “Colson?” Was that an alias?

  The crease between his brows deepened as if he’d read her mind. “My father’s name.”

  His father, the one who left, had a white man’s name. Given Jake’s cagey answers about his parentage, odds were his sire hadn’t married his mother. A thousand questions popped into Kate’s head, but she held them in. Now wasn’t the time for a discussion of his past.

  She forced a cheery smile. “Mr. Colson, I’m pleased to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is mine, Miss Parsons.” The silky drawl of his voice, so seductive, made her shiver. He brushed his thumb along the edge of her jaw. Every inch of her skin tingled as if she’d been bathed in a shower of sparks. When he dropped his hand, it was a moment before she collected her wits.

  Jake gave a coin to a grubby boy and asked the child to take his horse to the livery. If she had any say in the matter, he wouldn’t be joining the stallion there.

  The hotel lobby teemed with men, mostly railroad workers who'd returned to repair portions of the track. During the last hectic weeks of the race, ties and steel had been thrown down without proper grading and the bed was getting washed out. Henry could argue that speed won the race, but his shortcuts would cost them dearly in the long run.

  Kate squeezed through the crowd, passing by a round table where a spray of sunflowers erupted out of a large urn. Eden always did have an eye for the dramatic. She also had sharp instincts for business. However, it was her soft heart Kate was counting on.

  Harnessing a burst of nerves, she approached the registration desk.

  Light from an overhead lamp reflected off a bent head piled with ebony curls, artfully arranged as always. In months past, Kate had envied Eden's beauty. Now she discovered she was proud of her bright hair and unusual eyes and even her oh-so-very average figure because Jake seemed so fond of the entire package.

  Eden looked up. Surprise, then relief flashed across her face. "Kate?"

  "Good evening." Kate smiled like she'd been gone for a day instead of a week. "I'm here for my key."

  Eden came around the desk wearing a perplexed frown. "Where’ve you been? We were so worried. The major has been out looking for you."

  Warmth centered in Kate’s chest, a strange sort of pleasure that came from knowing there were people who cared enough to be concerned. But she couldn’t invite too many questions. If her father found out Jake had broken into his railcar and abducted her, he wouldn’t negotiate with him. He’d have him locked up and throw away the key.

  She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial level. "I've been down near the Cherokee capital in sensitive negotiations…" It wasn't a lie, exactly. More like an exaggeration. “I’ve brought back a delegate who’ll be meeting with my father, hopefully tomorrow.”

  Eden’s eyes shifted over Kate's shoulder and her delicate brows formed a silent question.

  Kate turned.

  Jake stood behind her. He’d come up silent as a cat. Why hadn’t he spoken? Beneath the shadowed brim of his hat, his eyes darted back and forth as if he expected trouble. Did he still fear Eden would throw him out?

  "Mr. Colson, this is Mrs. Bradford, the owner of this hotel."

  Jake whipped off his hat and dipped his chin. “Ma’am.”

  Kate steamed ahead. "I hope there’s an extra room. Mr. Colson needs a place to stay tonight and a good meal."

  Eden didn’t bat an eye. “I’m sure I can come up with something.” She went behind the desk and brought back a key. "Room two-twenty, just up those stairs and on the right."

  “Much obliged.” Jake’s stance appeared relaxed, but the tight grip he had on his hat conveyed lingering nervousness.

  Kate’s concern heightened. Something more than worrying about being thrown out of the hotel bothered him. Once they’d gotten settled, she would find out what was wrong. She brushed his arm with a light touch. "If you'd like to go on up to your room, I’m sure Eden can send dinner later.”

  "Good idea. You should do that," he murmured.

  Did he mean she should go to her room…or his? For the sake of her reputation, she would have to be very careful. It would also be a good idea if their arrival weren’t broadcast all over town. As he walked away, she turned to Eden. “Negotiations are at a very delicate stage. If you don’t mind, I'd rather keep Mr. Colson’s visit quiet.”

  Eden's steady appraisal was a bit unnerving. “I need to let Sin know you’re back. He’ll want to talk to you.”

  “Of course. I didn’t mean to cause a stir.”

  "And you might run into Mr. Stevens. He’s in town.”

  Unease rippled through her. She didn’t want Henry involved. He’d either mess things up or try to take over. She’d avoid him, at least until after she and Jake talked to her father. “If Mr. Stevens happens by, you can tell him I’m back, but…indisposed.”

  Her request was met with a slight nod. Eden flicked a glance over Kate's shoulder in the direction Jake had gone. "He's very handsome, your escort."

  “My escort?” Kate’s cheeks heated. Eden thought she and Jake were involved in an affaire de coeur. What should she say? What could she say? She’d arrived with him, alone. "Oh, you mean Mr. Colson. Yes, I…I suppose he is…handsome."

  Eden arched her brows in a way that said she wasn't fooled a bit. Considering she’d owned a saloon and brothel at one time, she must have been witness to all manner of subterfuge. Thankfully, she wasn’t the type to spread ugly stories.

  "I've put him in the room across from yours,” Eden said smoothly. “Shall I have your dinner brought up as well?"

  Kate threw a glance over her shoulder in the direction Jake had gone. She needed to talk to him about whatever was bothering him, which meant she needed to go to his room. They might be able to have dinner together one last time.

  She turned back with a smile. “That would be lovely.”

  ###

  Jake trotted down the hall and exited through the back of the hotel. He’d debated telling Kate he’d seen Charley, but decided it was better to confront his cousin without interference. What if she panicked, or worse, got between them?

  The sun had set, but the long summer day was far from over. The main street through town crawled with activity. However, there was no sign of Charley. Jake crossed the muddy street, heading in the direction of a new saloon built on the burned ruins of another.

  The woman Kate had introduced, Mrs. Bradford, had once run the old saloon and a brothel above it. Jake was glad she’d married and gotten away from that life. She was a nice lady. Unlike most proprietors, she’d served Indians. He and his cousin had frequented her saloon when they’d come to town to spy on the railroad. Had she recognized him? Didn’t appear to. For most whites, one Indian looked much like another.

  Sure enough, Charley's horse was tethered outside the new watering hole.

  Jake pushed open the swinging doors. Light from hanging lamps barely penetrated a thick cloud of smoke. Around tables, men were
engrossed in card games or flirting with the girls. Trilling laughter mingled with an off-key melody, energetically plunked out by a man in a scarlet vest seated at a piano near the bar.

  Charley sat alone in the far corner with an untouched drink in front of him. He was cleaning his nails with the tip of his hunting knife.

  Tension buzzed through Jake. The best way to handle this would be to act casual and not draw undue attention. He had no idea whether any of these workers might recognize him, but he didn’t want it to appear he and Charley were together.

  He stopped at the bar to pick up a drink and then meandered over, acting as if searching for an empty chair. There was one at the table next to his cousin. There, he could talk to Charley without looking like he knew him, and keep an eye on whoever came in the door. He set his drink down, took off his hat and sat down, leaning the chair back against the wall.

  "What are you doing here?" He said in a low voice.

  "Waiting for you," Charley answered.

  Jake turned his head, incredulous. Had he missed his cousin tracking him? “Did you follow us all this way?”

  “You think I’d waste my time chasing you around?” Charley gave a soft snort, making the answer clear. “I went back to the site, made sure our tracks led nowhere. The workers were searching for the woman. Heard them say she’s the big chief’s daughter.” Charley’s head swiveled and he pinned Jake with an accusing glare. “I figured you’d bring her back here, so I’ve been waiting.”

  Jake’s skin prickled in warning. “What do you want?”

  Charley laid his knife on the table. His voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "I want the money you said we’d get when we snatched her.”

  “You know that’s not possible. It’s over. Let it go."

  “It isn’t over, Wa-ya. It won’t be over until those whites tear up that track and leave.”

  “They aren’t going anywhere. We have to outsmart them, not fight them.”

  “Outsmart them?” His cousin huffed a dark laugh. “Is that what you call running away?”

  He’d known Charley would view his action as cowardice, but he didn’t care. He’d done the right thing by protecting Redbird. “I took her away to keep you from making a big mistake.”

  “I’d say you’re the one making the mistake.”

  Oh, he’d made more than his share of mistakes, but coming to town with Redbird wasn’t one of them. Good thing she’d strong-armed him into it, what with Charley being here waiting for her. Jake shuddered to think what might’ve happened if she’d returned alone. “Leave her be. She won’t tell anyone we took her.”

  His cousin made a scornful sound. “Since when did you start believing liars?”

  “She's not a liar.”

  “All whites are liars.”

  “And according to them, we’re all savages." Jake grappled with his temper. Fortunately, the men around them didn’t seem to notice the argument. They were more concerned with their own disagreements. “So long as we go on hating each other, we don’t have to face who we are, what we’ve become.”

  “Always the philosopher.” Charley swigged his whiskey in one gulp and set the shot glass down with a thunk. “You disappoint me, Wa-ya. I hoped you might live up to your name. But you're not a wolf. You're a lamb."

  Jake stiffened at the insult. Seven years ago he’d let Charley down and his cousin would never let him forget it. As if he could. "Being brave doesn't mean being stupid."

  Charley snatched up the knife and twisted in his chair. "Are you calling me stupid?"

  Jake eyed the razor-sharp blade pointed at him. "Are you going to gut me with that thing?"

  His cousin’s frown became troubled. The knife disappeared into the sheath in his boot. Was his conscience bothering him?

  Jake’s hopes lifted. There might be a chance to turn things around if he could reach the old Charley, the one trapped inside this cold-hearted man. "We don’t have to steal, Tsa-li. We can find a way to protect our land without bringing shame on our family.”

  Charley's lips thinned. "I’m not ashamed of what I’ve done. And I'm not so yellow I'd run from a fight.”

  “We can't fight them all.” Jake’s shoulders sagged with weariness. “I’m going to talk to the big chief tomorrow. If I can negotiate a deal, we can end this—”

  “Not interested in negotiating.” Charley picked up his hat and stood.

  Jake shoved his chair aside and followed his cousin out the swinging doors. Elbowing past a knot of men, he strode into the street and grabbed Charley’s arm. “Listen to me. I won’t let you—”

  Charley whirled around and slammed his fist into Jake's nose.

  Pain splintered through Jake's face. He staggered back, blood spewing from his nose. He blinked to clear his vision.

  “You stinking coward.” Charley sneered. “Was bedding that white woman worth it? Maybe I’ll go see what it is she’s got that makes you so eager to do her bidding.”

  White-hot rage streaked through Jake. He threw a hard punch to Charley's jaw, snapping his head back. Before his cousin could react, he hammered Charley's midsection, forcing him to retreat.

  With a snarl, Charley came back, fists pounding like rocks against Jake's ribs. Soon Jake lost count of how many punches he'd given or gotten.

  "Fight!" someone shouted. Men poured out of the saloon, forming a ring around them. Excited voices peppered the air with vulgar encouragements.

  Jake grappled with his cousin. His feet kept slipping. They fell to the ground and he shoved his cousin's shoulders down, sinking him into the thick mud. Straddling Charley's chest, he delivered punishing blows. The blood of his warrior ancestors pounded in his ears like ancient drumbeats.

  "Break it up!" A barked order from behind penetrated the red haze.

  Jake shook off his bloodlust. The mud made a sucking sound as he pulled his knees out of it, and staggered to his feet. He grabbed his ribs at the sharp pain.

  “What’s the problem, gentlemen?” The commanding voice belonged to a bluecoat, an officer by the look of it.

  A curse escaped before Jake could bite it off. Bad enough he’d let Charley goad him into a fight. Drawing unwanted attention from the Army was the last thing they needed. He wiped his mouth, and his fingers came away smeared with a mixture of blood and drool.

  "Pers'nal matter," he mumbled around a split lip.

  Charley groaned as he sat. His nose bled, the reddened flesh around his eyes was swelling, he looked like he’d been run down by a stampede. Were his ribs busted, too?

  Jake offered his hand.

  His cousin ignored it. He got to his knees and awkwardly crawled to his feet, wearing a sullen frown.

  "Show's over. Move on," the soldier instructed the crowd.

  Disappointed grumbles faded as spectators shuffled back toward the saloon. A few holdouts clustered behind the hitching rail.

  "Are you the man who accompanied Miss Parsons into the hotel?"

  The question startled Jake. He hadn’t seen any soldiers when he and Kate arrived. He picked up his hat, trying to act unconcerned. "Who wants to know?"

  "Major Bradford.” The officer held Jake's gaze. “My wife and I own the hotel."

  Jake's shoulder's tensed. Mrs. Bradford. Eden. Why would she send her husband after him? Or—his heart tripped—had Redbird flown to the authorities, thinking he’d broken his promise when he left without telling her?

  “I was there," he conceded. No point digging a deeper hole by lying. "Just stepped out to get a drink.”

  The major glanced at Charley. “Looks like you found trouble.”

  "Just a disagreement." Jake shrugged. "My friend’s leaving. I’ll head back to the hotel.”

  A bearded man stepped from behind the major, blocking Jake’s path. Henry Stevens. Had to be. That bowler hat and starchy suit were unmistakable, as was the arrogant expression. "You aren’t going anywhere. Not until you answer some questions."

  First Charley, and now this cocky rooster. Jake fisted his h
ands. By Thunder, he’d had enough. "Get out of my way."

  The major stepped in. “Mr. Stevens, let me handle this.”

  "Aren’t you going to question them?” Henry Stevens glare wasn’t the typical kind a white man gave an Indian. His hatred and anger seemed more personal.

  “Fool,” Charley muttered in Tsa-la-gi. He wasn’t talking about Stevens.

  Jake rubbed the sweat from the back of his neck. Kate must’ve talked to him. Had she changed her mind about keeping mum? He struggled to keep his expression neutral. “Look, I just got into town. I’m not looking for trouble.”

  “Where did you come from?” The major directed the question at Charley, who grew still as a cougar ready to spring

  Jake tensed. Surely his cousin wasn’t foolish enough to attack.

  Charley broke and ran for his horse.

  Voices rose in confusion as he shoved through the remaining spectators loitering near the hitching rail. The men scattered. He leapt into the saddle and wheeled the horse around, waving his gun and yelling for Jake to come with him.

  The major clamped a hand around Jake’s arm. “Tell him to dismount and put his gun down before somebody gets hurt.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jake saw Stevens pull a pistol from inside his coat. He jerked free of the major’s hold and struck the other man's arm.

  A loud crack sounded as the gun went off, and smoke burned in Jake’s nose.

  Charley crouched low over his horse’s neck, thundering down the street into the darkness.

  Jake wrestled with the railroad chief to prevent him from firing again. With a curse, Stevens plowed an elbow into Jake's injured ribs. He fell back, grunting in pain, and cradled his side.

  Stevens waved the pistol in his face. "Do that again, and I'll shoot you."

  “Put away that damn peashooter," the major roared. "We won't get answers from a dead man."

  “What do you want?” Jake gasped. He couldn't straighten for the pain in his side. He slid an angry glance at the major. “What’d we do?”