Kate's Outlaw (Steam! Romance and Rails) (11 page)

“Clever?” That wasn’t what he’d expected her to say.

“Brilliant, even.” She breathed a soft laugh. “I’d love to see my father’s face if he found out. He’s so rarely bested.”

Jake shook his head. Had he lapsed into a delusional state? She wouldn’t be complimenting him for stealing her father’s money.

“You might’ve come up with a better idea if you hadn’t been so concerned about protecting Charley. I’m seeing a pattern here.”

He shifted his gaze away, uncomfortable with her observation. “There’s no pattern. It’s not what you think. I owe him.”

“Owe him? Why? Because he’s your cousin?”

Jake tried to swallow past the knot in his throat. He didn’t want to explain why he owed Charley. She wouldn’t be impressed and she sure as hell wouldn’t call him brilliant. There was only one word she could use.

Coward.

###

Kate shifted into a sitting position as close to Jake as the bars would allow. Beads of perspiration slid down the small of her back. Lord, it was sweltering in here. How could he stand it? And that atrocious stench coming from the hay, even animals had cleaner stalls.

Dirt and blood stained his shirt, nasty cuts marred his cheekbone and lower lip, and his right eye was puffy and bruised. Judging from his shallow breathing, he probably had broken ribs. Had no one sent for a doctor? As soon as she left she would see to it.

But she wasn’t leaving yet. Not until she had the answer to why Jake felt he owed Charley. This, she suspected, would reveal a great deal about what had driven him to violate his conscience and become a thief. 

“Will you tell me what happened?”

Her question was met with a long silence. Apparently the answer was more complex than she realized, or he was reluctant to share the story.

She leaned a shoulder against the bars. “I’m going to wait here. Until you’re ready.”

He turned his head, which brought their faces so close he could have leaned forward and kissed her. He didn’t.

The weight on her heart grew heavier. “You’ve trusted me with so much. Will you not trust me with this?”

“You may wish I hadn’t.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

His gaze shifted to some point just past her shoulder, and he seemed to retreat to a place she couldn’t go. “It happened during the War of Rebellion, or the Great Cause, depending on which side you were on. We didn’t want to be on either side of the white men’s war, but our leaders couldn’t keep us out of it.”

“During the war?” So this had happened some time ago, anywhere from five to nine years in the past. “You couldn’t have been much more than a child.”

“I was fifteen when Charley left. At the time, I was living with him and his wife. Some of our men went to fight for the Union. Others went with the Confederates because they promised they’d leave us alone if they won. With the men gone, Charley said I ought to stay home and watch over the women. I promised him I would.”

Kate’s skin prickled with a sense of impending doom. She’d asked him to tell her this story, but now she wasn’t so sure she wanted to hear it.

“One day, some bluecoats came to the house. They were loud and rude, waving their guns around, demanding something to eat. Ocoee tried to calm them, but they cursed at her. I told them we wouldn’t feed them if they were disrespectful. One of them knocked me down and took my gun, threatened to shoot my parts off. Ocoee pleaded with him, said she’d fix them dinner, give them whatever food they wanted if they’d leave us alone.”

Jake turned his face away, but not before she saw the darkness in his expression. She started to reach out, wanting to reassure him. But he was no child needing comfort, and she had no business touching him. She rested her hand on the bar instead.

“Ocoee fixed dinner and sent me to get water,” he continued. “She met me by the creek. The soldiers had found the corn liquor and were getting drunk. She’d snuck out with some excuse. But the men followed her. They said she wasn’t finished cooking for them. I told them to leave her alone. One pulled a gun and shot at me, but he was so drunk he missed. Ocoee wrested with him. She yelled at me, told me to leave and stop causing trouble. The man kept firing, the others were laughing. I could tell they enjoyed watching me jump. A bullet grazed my shoulder...”

Jake’s throat worked. “I ran.”

Kate winced. Dear God, he’d been little more than a boy. Scared, outnumbered, outgunned.

“After the men left, I slipped inside the house. I found…” He hesitated, his expression bleak. “I found Ocoee sprawled on the floor. Naked, with blood on her thighs. There were flies crawling on her. I carried her to the creek to wash them off.”

Bile surged up the back of Kate’s throat. She covered her mouth.

Oh God, poor Jake, and that poor woman.

“Ocoee, she…she was beautiful. And brave, like you. But I can’t remember what she looked like. All I see is her head twisted like they’d tried to take it off.”

Jake’s voice had gone flat, devoid of emotion. He could’ve been telling a story, someone else’s story. But it hadn’t happened to someone else.

Kate struggled to maintain the tenuous grip she had on her emotions. It took every ounce of willpower not to break down and weep, but Jake didn’t need her tears. He needed her strength. “If you had stayed, they would’ve killed you, too.”

“It would have been better if I’d died. At least, more honorable.”

Kate twisted, studying the harsh lines of his face. How could she reach him? How could she make him see he was wasting his life because of guilt? “Choosing to live isn’t dishonorable.”

His expression remained wooden. She reached through the bars and gripped his shoulder, squeezing to get his attention.

“If you’d died trying to protect her, what
good
would have been accomplished? Her sacrifice would’ve been useless. She gave you a chance to live. Wishing you’d died instead shows contempt for that precious gift.”

“I don’t wish for a useless death. I just wish I could’ve traded my life for hers.” The pain threaded through his words pulled at Kate’s heart.

“I know you do,” she said, unable to manage more than a whisper. “But that’s not what happened. You weren’t given that choice.”

He closed his eyes. “No. I was given a choice. I made the wrong one.”

Kate eased her grip on his shoulder. Her hand drifted down his arm and she closed her fingers around his. She’d never convince him he’d done the right thing. But she longed to help him find the courage to forgive himself. She squeezed his hand. “You have a choice now, as well. I pray you’ll choose to accept Ocoee’s gift and let go of the past.”

Jake laced his fingers with hers and his grip became so tight it hurt. The ache spread until it seemed to encompass her entire body.

She’d arrived here tonight with guns loaded, prepared to mete out justice. Then Jake had completely disarmed her, and with the truth, no less. Despite what he thought, he was one of the most honorable men she’d ever met. He’d kept her safe, had returned her, even fought his cousin—the one he felt he owed so much—to protect her. Even if he hadn’t told her everything, he’d trusted her enough to come with her and give compromise a chance. And he’d come knowing full well he could be caught should someone recognize him, or if she decided to turn him in. Indeed, she could ensure he’d be locked up for a very long time. But how could she condemn him for the choices he’d made? Would she have done any different, given the same circumstances? According to the law, he should go to jail. But her heart told her he’d been in a prison of his own making for far too long.

“It’s late.” Jake spoke softly. “You should go.”

With ponderous movements, he came to his feet. He reached through the bars to offer her assistance. She gripped his hand and stood, brushing off black pieces of straw and Lord knew what else from her skirt.

She glanced around at the filthy cells. “Your injuries require tending and you need sleep. Neither of which you’ll get in here.”

Jake’s lips twisted in a wry smile. “Don’t think I’ll be leaving anytime soon. But I feel better since you came to see me.”

“You feel
better
?” Kate released a ragged laugh. She couldn’t imagine feeling worse. Her plans lay in shambles, her hopes destroyed. There’d be no partnership with Jake in forging a negotiated settlement, no relationship of any kind. He’d never fit into her world, and she couldn’t be part of his.

She lifted the lantern off the hook. The light slashed across his face. His flat expression conveyed more hopelessness than any sign of emotion might’ve done. “Goodbye, Kate.”

He hadn’t called her Redbird. A knife-like pain pierced her chest. He was right. She wasn’t Redbird, and she couldn’t be a part of his life. It was time to say goodbye.

But there was something she wanted to do for him before they parted ways. She wanted to offer him a gift like Ocoee had done years ago. What he chose to do with it would be up to him.

Chapter 8

"Release that Indian? Are you crazy?" Henry stood, propping his fingers on the desk the way Kate's father did whenever he wished to tower over her to rant about something. "You can't be serious. That man and his partner stole our payroll."

"We don't know that." Kate popped out of the chair and crossed to the window so Henry couldn’t see her face. She was a terrible liar.

Of course she knew what Jake had done. He’d admitted as much. But there were other things he’d revealed, as well—his love for his family, his sacrifices, his commitment and devotion to his people. These qualities defined his life. His heart called to hers at a level she couldn’t explain, but knew it had something to do with who he was, who they both were. She couldn’t turn her back on him any more than he’d been able to turn his back on his cousin.

After leaving the jail, she'd rousted a local attorney and hired him on the spot, telling him it was his job to get Jake freed and keep him out of prison. In the meantime she'd take up his fight to protect his family's land. He could no longer do it without losing his life. And that was something she couldn’t bear. 

“Is that why you’re here?” Henry demanded. “Because of that Indian?”

Yes.
No, she couldn’t say that. Henry would flat-out refuse to help. She wouldn’t have approached him at all had she not been desperate. Only with his support would she stand a chance of getting her father to bend. But first, Henry would have to bend, and she would fare better gaining his cooperation if she appealed to his reason. He was, above all, a practical man.

Kate hid her hands in front of her as she wrung them. "Why do you want to press charges against Mr. Colson? We need him on our side. He's represents the Cherokee Tribal Council.”

"And I'm President of the United States." Henry's voice came closer. He cupped his hands on her shoulders. "Come now, Kate. We both know that Indian's an outlaw."

She escaped the unwelcome touch as she spun around. "He's the
nephew
of a council member. It'd be foolish to pursue a case against him."

Henry gripped the lapels of his morning coat, frowning back at her. "He could be the head of their blasted council and I'd still press charges. If we don't punish these heathens for breaking the law, they'll steal us blind before we make the Texas border."

"They're not
heathens
. I’d wager Jake is more educated than you are."

"Jake?” Henry's eyes narrowed. “Since when are you on a first name basis with that Indian?"

Kate's patience, worn threadbare over the past few days, snapped. "He's not
that Indian
. He has a name."

"I'm sure he does. I'm just surprised you're so familiar with it."

Her cheeks heated. Her familiarity with Jake went beyond his name, but she wasn't going to say that. Even if she were inclined to confide in someone about the wreck her heart had become, it wouldn't be Henry.

"Do you want to save this railroad? Then work with me," she pleaded. "Help me convince Father not to press charges against Mr. Colson. We'll never get to Texas if we throw everyone in jail we think
might
have stolen from us. We need to make peace with these people. Show them we understand their concerns."

"
Their
concerns? What about ours?"

"If we give them assurances we won't take their land, they'll address our concerns. We’ll find a way through.”

"Without right-of-way? How do you propose we get to Texas? Fly?"

She ignored his sarcasm.
"We’ll negotiate for the use of their land."

Henry gave a disbelieving snort. "That's want I've been trying to do."

"No, you've tried to bribe them and trick them, and Father is fighting them in court. Not once have either of you reached out in good faith, which is what I'm proposing."

In the stretch of silence, she could hear the tapping of the telegraph from the small office in the front of Henry’s railcar. What would her father think when he got her message? Everything hinged on what he decided to do.

Her hands began to shake. Not once in the whole time she'd been out here had she been able to bring her father around to her way of thinking. Why would he listen to her this time? He wouldn't if Henry opposed her.

"Henry, please." She would get down on her knees and beg if she had to.

He stared down at her. Then he walked to the door between his office and the telegraph room, shut it and turned around. His expression reflected puzzlement. "What's come over you, Kate?"

Even if she told him, he’d never understand. "I'm trying to ensure we make it to Texas without going bankrupt. The longer we fight—"

"That's not what I mean, and you know it. Why is this Indian important to you?" Henry crossed to the desk. He propped his hip on the edge and draped one leg over the corner, adopting a relaxed pose. Was that to put her at ease so she’d open up?

Henry had seen her reactions when they'd been talking to the major, had known she'd gone to the jail. He was many things, but not a fool. Still, she couldn’t admit her interest was personal. His pride wouldn’t let him come to Jake’s aid.

"We have nothing to gain by putting him in jail."

"Nothing to gain?” Henry arched a sable brow. “How about stopping the payroll thefts?"

She shook her head. How could she assure him without tipping her hand? "Mr. Colson isn't a threat to anyone."

"He's a threat to me." Henry crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not making any deals until I know what's going on. And don't tell me that ridiculous story you told the major about secret negotiations. He didn't buy it. Neither do I."

Perspiration beaded on her forehead. The urge to seek the open window was strong, but it wouldn’t be any cooler over there. And avoiding Henry’s question would only fire his suspicions. She brushed back a damp curl. "I was given an opportunity to get to know Mr. Colson and his family, and I can tell you, things aren't as they seem. The Cherokee have suffered the cruelest treatment. They've been betrayed repeatedly. They're sick and tired of the lies and the greed."

She gestured toward the window. "This is
their
land. If we want to pass through it, we have to do things their way."

Henry didn't move from where he sat perched on the desk. His face could've been carved in stone. “Is that all you have to say?”

“What did you expect me to say?”

He sighed audibly. "I know you have a bleeding heart for every lost cause. But this one…” He shook his head. “Your Father will never approve.”

Distress tightened her throat. “He doesn’t approve of a great many things about me. You, on the other hand...”

Henry’s expression shifted. Was that sympathy, or just a trick of the light? “You could change his opinion.”

Could she? If she managed to save her father’s railroad, he might grow to respect her. He might even accept her if she married Henry and gave him children—boys, of course. But neither her father nor Henry would love her the way she wanted to be loved. The way she needed to be loved.

Being with Jake had opened her eyes. He respected her, valued her for who she was, not who he wanted her to be. He cared about her enough to put his safety aside and accompany her into enemy territory. Now she realized why he’d done it, for her sake even more than his. Even if she could never have him, he was the man she wanted. None other would be first in her heart.

She shook her head. “No. I don’t think I can change how Father views me, because I’m not willing to be the one who changes.”

“Kate…” Henry’s voice dropped low, no longer sounding businesslike. “I don’t mind your soft heart. Actually, I respect you for it. You remind me of my—" He cut himself off before he finished, but she knew what he'd been about to say.

His sisters.
Henry’s only soft spot. He'd told her little of his background, but enough for her to know he'd been the sole provider for three younger stepsisters since he was little more than a boy. That had endeared him to Kate. Little else about the power-hungry Chief of Operations was endearing. But her father hadn’t chosen Henry for his sentimental side.

With a sigh, Henry ran his fingers through his thick brown hair. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing tanned wrists. He’d lent a hand to the remaining crew since they’d had to let so many men go to preserve their resources. He would do whatever it took to make this railroad succeed. She wouldn’t. Not if it meant trampling on the rights of others.

“Why are you here?” He asked the question a second time, and then proceeded to answer it. “This isn’t about some ragtag band of Indians. It isn’t even about the railroad. You’re here on account of one man.”

Kate shivered as a chill stole over her despite the oppressive heat. She couldn't keep pretending, not to Henry, not even to herself. She
had
come because of Jake. And she would do whatever she had to do to save him. His life was more precious to her than anything—even her father’s good opinion.

She held out her hands in a pleading gesture. "He isn’t what you think. He’s a good man, trying to protect his family. We have no business judging him. Not after what we’ve done.”

“What are you talking about?” Henry blustered. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You think not?” Kate raised her chin. “We took land these settlers had poured their sweat and dreams into. You and my father looked the other way when a young girl was raped because finding her assailant would’ve been inconvenient. And now we’re asking the courts to strip a sovereign nation of its rights. How can you sit there and say we’ve done nothing wrong.”

Above the starched white collar, a crimson stain crept up Henry’s neck. Was he embarrassed? That might be too much to hope for, considering he didn’t admit to making mistakes. “Well…that’s not the point,” he grumbled. “Why should I help you get this man out of jail? What've you done for me?"

That sounded more like Henry. He weighed everything by what he stood to gain. In this case, he'd expected they would marry, which would improve his station and further his career. Apparently, it didn’t matter if they weren’t well matched in personality or ideals. Nor did he seem to care that there was no spark between them. For Henry, marriage to her was a means to an end.

Kate ventured closer, never breaking his gaze.

His expression remained stony, but what lurked in his eyes wasn't anger so much as hurt. Oh, she knew he didn't love her and probably didn’t even want her, but she'd wounded his pride.

A smarter woman might flatter him and stroke his ego to get what she wanted. But Kate abhorred manipulation. She would rather strike a fair deal with the businessman, the one who wanted to run this railroad much more than she did.

She stopped directly in front of him, meeting his eyes. “If you help me get what I want, then I’ll give you something that will convince Father to make you president—without having to wed me.”

###

Warbling songbirds roused Jake from a deep sleep. He rolled over and winced at a poke in his side. Not a twinge from his mending ribs, it was something under the blanket.

Full awareness came in the next moment. He wasn’t in jail. He was in the hideout that’d been his home for the past couple months. With a groan, he sat up. He ought to be more careful where he put his bedroll. There were rocks all over the floor of this cave.

He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. It was getting longer, but he wouldn’t bother cutting it. He didn’t care and no one else was around to offer an opinion. Charley had fled to Texas. Jake wouldn't follow. He couldn’t do anymore for his cousin than he’d already done. Redbird had shown him that.

She’d also helped him see other things. Such as how life could come from death, and how giving a little meant getting far more in return. He wished he could’ve told her what she meant to him, but he would never find words for that in English or
Tsa-la-gi
.

His heart
thudded painfully. Last night, he dreamt she had come to him.
Wishful thinking.
She wouldn’t come to this place even if she could find it again. He was lucky she’d changed her mind about seeing him locked away.

Two months ago, she’d arranged his release. The lawyer she hired said he had to stick around until the investigation was over, and if formally charged he would face trial. But the attorney assured him there wouldn’t be enough evidence to support a conviction.

Jake took off for the hills. He knew better than to think a white jury would need much evidence to convict an Indian, and he wasn’t so honorable he wanted to spend the rest of his life behind bars.

He’d left Kate a note, thanking her for everything. He’d sweated over every word, but they all seemed inadequate in light of what she’d done for him. He owed her a huge debt. The only way he knew to repay it was to give her what she’d fought so hard to achieve—a negotiated settlement between the railroad and the Cherokee Nation.