Kate's Outlaw (Steam! Romance and Rails) (2 page)

Jake and Charley weren't here to drink. They'd come to steal the payroll.

The rhythmic crunch of footsteps came from the other side of the train.

Charley halted. His black clothes and dark coloring concealed him from view, but Jake was close enough to see his cousin’s fingers curl around the handle of his revolver. The gun slithered out of the holster.

Jake’s heart kicked in his chest. If his cousin started shooting with all these armed workers around, they'd both get killed. Of course, if they were caught stealing, they'd be hung from the nearest tree.

Holding his position, he peered beneath the train. Denim-clad legs scissored past. As the footfalls faded, he released a slow breath. By Thunder, this job would be his last. After tonight, they ought to have adequate funds to defend their land from those who wanted to take it.

"There, at the end, the fanciest car," he whispered. "I wager the owner brought the payroll with him."

A moment later, he swung up onto the metal platform, taking care not to tread loudly, and eased the door open. The compartment was dark, quiet.

"I’ll cover the windows. You find a lamp.”

His cousin slipped past. Circling the room, Jake pulled down tasseled curtains, which were rolled up on brass rods. A
match rasped, followed by a sulfurous smell, then a soft glow filled the compartment.

Charley lifted the lamp. Light splashed across his features, making the scar more noticeable. During the war, he'd been struck in the face with a saber and the injury pulled his mouth down in a permanent grimace. The worse scars, however, couldn’t be seen. They were the ones on his soul.

“Where do think they stashed the money?” Charley rasped.

Jake scanned the paneled room, which looked more like a fancy office than a railcar. There was a sitting area, a table spread with papers and maps, a large desk positioned in front of bookcases that were pushed up against a partial wall, and beyond that, probably sleeping quarters. Last time, the money had been in a safe, something they’d been able to easily discover. But if there was no safe…

“Maybe it’s in the desk.” He checked the drawers—locked—then ran his hands underneath, feeling for a release that might trigger a secret compartment. "Nothing. I'll bet he keeps the key on him. We'll have to pry it open."

Pulling a knife from a sheath on his belt, Jake went to work on the top drawer.

Charley flipped open the lid on a fancy cigar box and stuffed the contents inside his coat. He threw a frowning glance over his shoulder. "Hurry up. I hear something."

From outside came a scrape on the metal platform.

Jake scrambled to his feet.

"Stay there. Distract them,” Charley hissed. He pressed his back against the wall to the left of the door and pulled a knife from a sheath in his boot.

Growing nervous, Jake shook his head.
No bloodshed
. That was the deal.

The knob turned and a woman stepped inside, one with hair as bright as a sunset.

Redbird
.

Recognition jolted through him. Even though he'd only seen her from afar, there was no mistaking her fiery crown. It was the same woman who’d been following the railroad for months, mostly on the arm of the chief.

Fear flickered across her face, but instead of screaming, she raised her chin and leveled a stern look. "What are you doing in here? This is a private office."

Charley eased up behind her, his eyes glittering with grim intent. Surely, he wouldn't harm a woman.

The knife flashed.

"
Tsali
, no!" Jake shouted.

Confusion flickered across Redbird’s face a second before Charley clapped one hand over her mouth and jerked her back against him, putting the razor-sharp blade to her throat.

She froze, her eyes huge with terror.

Jake placed his palms on the desktop, prepared to leap over and grab the knife. But he checked himself. If he startled her, she might bolt, and the glint in Charley's eyes made it clear she wouldn't get away.

"Don't hurt her," Jake continued in
Tsa-la-gi.

Charley scowled and jerked his chin toward the door. "See if someone followed."

Taking care to be quiet, Jake looked outside. No one lingered by the car and the only sounds were the strains of music and drunken laughter. He shut the door.

Redbird hadn't moved a muscle. Good thing she was smart enough to keep her wits about her. Now he had to calm Charley down.

"Don't see anybody, but we can't risk staying long enough to find the money. Let's tie her up and get out of here."

Charley flicked a dark glance at the petrified woman in his arms. "She's seen us. It'll ruin our cover."

"Only if they connect us with the other theft."

"You know they will if she squawks."

Redbird's frightened eyes darted back and forth and her brow knitted with confusion. Better she didn't understand.

"I’ll cut her throat and we can run. No one will be the wiser." Charley made the remark as casually as if he were discussing the weather.

Horror thundered through Jake, and in a burst of protectiveness, he moved closer. Charley might be right about the danger of letting her go, but killing her was out of the question. "I've got a better idea. Give her to me."

"You?” his cousin made a sound of disgust. “What are
you
going to do with her?"

Jake met a pair of frightened eyes as blue as the summer sky. Light freckles were sprinkled like sand over her pale skin. And her hair, he’d never seen the like, tight coils of fire that she’d tried, without success, to subdue into a thick knot. She was exotic, foreign…forbidden.

His mouth went dry. What
was
he going to do with her?

He blurted out his first thought. "I'll make her man pay us to return her.”

Charley's obsidian eyes filled with respect. "Good thinking,
Wa-ya
."

Good idea? It was a terrible idea, the worst he’d ever had, and only marginally better than Charley’s suggestion. But it appeared this was the only way he’d keep Redbird safe.

Jake tore off the bandana around his neck and gagged her. Using a leather strip from his hatband, he tied her hands. His thumb brushed the smooth skin on the inside of her wrist. Male awareness buzzed through him. He tried to ignore it, and refused to analyze it.

Whipping out his gun, he stuck the barrel into her side and dragged her to the door. He didn’t want to frighten her, but he couldn't risk having her break and run. His cousin would sink a knife in her back before she got five feet.

The lively music still played, but no one appeared to be paying attention to the last car on the train. Charley doused the light. Jake nudged Redbird down the metal stairs, retracing his steps. As they neared the engine, he veered into the high grass.

She balked, making a distressed sound in the back of her throat.

He moved the gun's barrel to her temple, but didn’t cock the hammer for fear he’d inadvertently pull the trigger. Charley spun around, glaring at her. He took a threatening step toward them. The moonlight glinted off his knife.

Jake holstered his gun, slung the woman her over his shoulder and took off across the field, his captive wriggling like a fish. He stumbled, but kept running. By the time he reached the trees where they'd hobbled their horses, sweat slicked his skin. He set her on her feet. She made a retching sound. Unless she choked, he wasn't removing that gag.

Charley swung into his saddle. "Hurry." His horse danced, impatient as its master.

"You go ahead. I have to get her situated.”

"Strap her on like a side of venison.”

Jake shot his cousin a black look. He wasn't carrying a woman face down across his horse's withers. With a rope, he tied her bound hands to the saddle horn, then mounted and hoisted her up. He shoved her skirts aside to get them out of the way. He’d expected to wrestle petticoats, but she wasn’t wearing any. Instead, she had on leggings similar to those worn by his aunts when they worked in the fields. Only these were made from wool not buckskin. Odd, but convenient.

He shifted, trying to get comfortable, but all that accomplished was to bring the rounded softness of her rear against his crotch. He stiffened as a river of heat coursed through him. Now he wished she had more layers.

Curse her too-thin leggings and curse whatever ill luck had brought her into the railcar at the same moment he and Charley had been searching for the payroll. Had she stayed at the party like everyone else, they wouldn’t be in this fix.

Not entirely true.
He’d opened his mouth and claimed her, so now he was responsible.

He wrapped his free arm around her and guided his horse into the trees. The deeper they rode into the forest, the blacker the night became, along with his mood. He could navigate these woods blindfolded, but he’d never find his way out of the dark place where his soul resided. Now, he’d virtually guaranteed his damnation.

An owl hooted. Redbird trembled in his arms. Was she afraid of
u-gu-ku
? Owls were reputed to be ghosts or witches. Those were just old stories, but the thought made Jake uneasy nonetheless. It seemed a bad omen. He’d only taken her to save her life, and he’d return her, just as soon as he could figure out how to manage it without giving away his secret.

She clutched the saddle horn, holding herself as far away from him as possible. They had a long ride ahead and she’d be in agony by the time they reached the hideout if she remained rigid. 

He drew her back, using gentle pressure to urge her to relax against him. She finally did, which brought his nose into contact with a mass of soft, curly hair. He inhaled a lemony fragrance that reminded him of a plant growing in his aunt’s garden. Did Redbird smell like this all over?

She jerked forward, at the same time ramming her heels into the horse’s sides.

The stallion bucked.

Jake struggled to stay in the saddle and keep Redbird from toppling off. He forced her hips down and barked a warning in
Tsa-la-gi
. She might not understand the words, but she’d get his meaning. What had he been thinking to allow himself to become distracted? He better start paying attention or he’d be on his ass in the dirt.

The moon reappeared after they left the woods and started into rockier terrain. His cousin set a grueling pace. Charley wouldn't slow down for his own comfort, much less Redbird’s. The sky turned leaden as they neared the river. By dawn, they would reach the bluffs, which concealed countless caves, including their hideout.

Redbird started to squirm.

Jake clenched his jaw. Sitting this close, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about his body’s inconvenient reaction to her bottom rubbing against him. He eyed her suspiciously. Was she purposely tormenting him, or trying to distract him? She wasn’t kicking or bothering the horse. Perhaps she needed to relieve herself.

“
Tsa-li
, hold up,” he called out. “She needs a rest."
And so do I
.

After his cousin halted, Jake dismounted and helped her down. Every muscle in his body
had knotted up, and he ached for a release he wouldn't get unless he went off somewhere and took care of it.

He motioned to a clump of bushes where she could have privacy. They hadn't spoken a word of English the entire time. He didn't want her to know he understood her language because once he took off that gag she would try to talk to him. He didn't want to talk to her. In fact, he didn't want to look at her. And he sure as hell didn't want to feel her soft body pressed up against him for one more second.

Redbird raised her bound hands and behind the gag her face twisted with misery. She couldn't take care of her needs with her hands tied.

Jake unknotted the leather bonds and his chest tightened. Beneath the cords, her wrists had been rubbed raw. He hadn’t intended to hurt her. How could he reassure her without words that he meant no harm? There was no way around it. He would have to talk to her.

"Go take care of yourself, then come back. If you behave, I won't tie you up again. But if you try to get away, I'll strap you over my horse."

###

Kate gaped at her captor, astonished by the flawless English that had come out of his mouth. All these hours, he’d spoken to his comrade in guttural words she couldn’t understand. Why had he waited so long to make her aware he could speak her language? He must have been trying to hide the fact.

She withdrew her hands from his grasp, a gentle hold that seemed at odds with his stern expression. When she pulled the gag from her mouth, his eyes narrowed, but he didn't stop her. She darted a nervous glance at his partner, who stared unblinking. The horrible stories she’d heard of rapes and scalping swirled through her mind. Was that what lay in store? Her skin, already damp with perspiration, turned clammy.

“Go on,” her captor urged. His eyebrows, which were the color and shape of raven’s wings, gathered in a frown. "And be quick about it.