Stealing Jake (30 page)

Lord, we need You now more than we’ve ever needed You. Please, Lord.

Jake stopped, lowering the heavy iron rod from the window. “It’s no use. The bars are bolted tight against the frame.”

Livy slid down the wall into a puddle.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Have mercy.

Jake hurried across the room, hunkered down, and grabbed her by the shoulders. His eyes, their green depths fierce in the flickering light, stunned her. “We will make it, Livy. Don’t give up.”

Livy shook her head. There was no need for words.

Desperate time stood still.

“Please don’t cry, Livy.”

The air left Livy in a rush, leaving a desperate feeling of yearning inside. Tears tracked down her cheeks. With shaking hands, she traced his features, her fingers lingering on his cheekbones, the stubble along his jaw, and finally, his lips.

Jake hauled her to him, covering her mouth with his in a burning kiss that rivaled the fire raging out of control not thirty feet away. All too soon, he jerked away, rested his forehead against hers, and gazed long and deep into her eyes. He didn’t say another word, but his expression glowed with a passion that seared her to the core.

A passion they would never have a chance to explore.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jake held Livy tight against him. He loved her, and he’d give anything to see her safe. If possible, he’d die to save her. “Lord, help us. If there’s a way out, show me.”

The smoke grew thick. The roar of the fire gained momentum with each passing moment. Livy slumped against him and coughed. She’d given up. His heart lurched. She couldn’t die. He’d beat a hole in the door first. His gaze darted to the only escape route.

The door.

“Come on. Head down. Crawl.”

He half dragged, half pulled her across the room. He caught a whiff of blessedly cold air. He pushed her to the crack between the door and the floor. Livy scooted close, sucking the oxygen in. Jake cocooned her with his body. Breathing. Wishing. Hoping. Praying.

God, did You bring us this far to let us die? Is this the end for us? What about Ma and my brother and sisters? Who’ll take care of them? And Mrs. Brooks and the orphans? They need Livy.

He blinked against the acrid smell of smoke, tears forming in his eyes. He focused on a hinge, shining black against the wooden door. He stared at the gap between the hinge and the door, his brain foggy and disoriented.

Suddenly the significance of the crack became clear.

He scuttled across the floor and grabbed the iron bar. Using brute force, he shoved the end of the shaft into the space and pried.

God, give me strength. Do it. Do it now.

A nail moved, screeching against the wood. Adrenaline surged through Jake’s body, and he wedged the bar even tighter. Pressing his back against the floor, he used the leverage to force the hinge to give way, groaning with the effort.

Three more tries, and the nails popped out.

“Livy,” he rasped, “we’re free.”

She responded with a moan.

He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her away from the door. She clawed at him, trying to get closer to the air. He blocked her and used the bar to pry the door away from the frame.

A swoosh of fresh air slapped him in the face.

He scooted Livy’s small frame toward the opening. “Go.”

She crawled out, her movements sluggish.

Jake wedged his shoulders between the heavy door and the frame, forcing his way through. He paused, breathing in, regaining his strength to push on to freedom.

Livy stumbled toward the frozen creek.

“No. Not that way.”

She ignored him or simply didn’t hear him in her haste to get as far away from the burning building as she could. Jake strained to get through the opening he’d created, his body acting as a crowbar. He heard the nails on the top hinge screeching against the wood.

The door gave way and crashed against the foundation. Jake cleared the opening, chased by billows of smoke. He gulped in life-giving air, trying to see where Livy had gone. He stood, lumbering away from the building in the direction he’d last seen her.

“Livy!” His voice was no more than a croak.

A shout from behind him spurred him on. He had no way of knowing who’d spotted him, but if it was Gibbons’s men, they’d shoot first and ask questions later.

He cleared the line of trees and staggered along the edge of the creek toward an alley leading into shantytown, searching for Livy. The sound of breaking ice and a gasping scream galvanized him forward.

Oh, God, help me find her before it’s too late.

He found her more from the sound of thrashing than from sight. He grabbed for her and missed. On his second try he managed to tangle one hand in her sodden skirt and haul her out of the water. She lay in his arms as limp as the corn-husk doll they’d made together. A shot rang out behind them as he ducked into an alley.

The dragon in Jake’s lungs clawed to get out, but he fought the urge to cough. His and Livy’s lives depended on silence. He glanced at the unconscious woman in his arms.
Oh, Lord, please save her life. I’ve just found her. I can’t lose her now. We need Your help, Lord.

His heart ripped in two. There wasn’t time to stop and give her his coat. She needed someplace safe and warm and out of harm’s way. Now. And he knew just the place.

Emma’s.

He staggered across the street, stumbled along behind half a dozen shacks, and zigzagged his way to the café, hoping and praying he’d lost their pursuers. He banged on Emma’s back door.

No response.

He pounded the wood again. When Emma didn’t answer, he started fumbling with the buttons on his coat with one hand, holding Livy tight against him with the other.

Finally a feeble light filtered through the crack at the bottom of the door, but Emma didn’t answer.

“Emma, it’s Jake Russell. I’ve got Livy out here and she needs help.”

“Livy, are you there?” Emma asked through the door.

“She’s unconscious. Please, Emma.”

Emma swung open the door, her eyes going wide when she saw Livy’s limp body, her wet clothes already stiffening from the cold. She grabbed for them and hauled them inside. “Oh, my goodness. Get in here, now.”

Without any wasted motion, Emma jerked a curtain aside and pointed to a rumpled bed. Jake deposited Livy on the covers. Emma shoved him out of the small space and yanked the tattered curtain shut. “Stoke the fire.”

The fire grew hot, the minutes long. Jake raked one hand through his hair, scattering the smell of woodsmoke through the room. Rustling sounds of Emma undressing Livy filled the tiny living quarters. A moan sounded, and Jake stopped himself short of ripping the curtain open. “Emma?”

“She’s coming around.” She pushed the curtain back. Livy lay on the bed, wrapped securely in a quilt. “Move her to my rocker, close to the fire.”

Jake did as she instructed. Emma knelt and started rubbing warmth into Livy’s feet. Jake did the same with her hands, cold as blocks of ice.

Shouts reverberated off the walls, and the clatter of boots rushing over the boards in front of Emma’s shattered the silence. Jake heard shouts of fire. The whole town would turn out, not only to save the building but to keep the fire from spreading.

Jake started coughing. His eyes watered, and he thought he’d cough his lungs up. Emma handed him a glass of water.

Emma’s gaze centered on Jake. When he recovered, she asked, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“The glove factory’s on fire.”

“Oh no.” Alarm caught and held her features. “The whole town could burn.”

He shook his head. “There’s no wind tonight, and it’s far enough away from the other buildings that it shouldn’t spread.”

“Are you sure?” Her voice trembled.

“Yes. But a healthy dose of prayer won’t hurt.”

“Amen to that.” Her gaze swung between him and Livy, still shivering beneath the mountain of blankets and quilts Emma had wrapped around her. He could see the questions in her eyes, but she didn’t voice them.

She cupped Livy’s face in one hand. “Livy, dear, can you hear me?”

Livy opened her eyes, staring at Emma. “Cold. So cold.”

“I know. We’ll have you warmed up before long.”

Jake saw alarm cross Livy’s features, and she started up in the rocker. “Jake?”

“I’m here.” He gathered her in his arms and held her close.

“I thought—” she broke off.

“Shhh. It’s all right. I’m alive. We both are, thank the Lord.”

Livy went limp, buried her head against his chest, and cried.

“I’ll make a pot of coffee. It’ll warm you both up.” Emma retreated to the kitchen.

Jake took a deep breath and smoothed Livy’s damp hair back, thankful he could hold her, touch her, that she wasn’t at the bottom of the creek, lifeless and forever lost to him.

He caressed her face, and she leaned into his touch. Her gaze softened and warmed.

“Livy, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you go with me tonight.”

“You didn’t have a choice.”

Jake shook his head. “Yes, I did. I put your life on the line, and you almost got killed. Twice. If you had died, I would never forgive myself.”

“No. I wanted to go.” Her eyes glowed with conviction. “You couldn’t have stopped me.”

He sighed, his eyes focused on hers. “I’ve got to go help fight the fire and see if Gibbons’s men are still around. Promise me you’ll stay here.”

“Jake, I’ll go—”

“No. It’s too dangerous. I need to help, but if you’re there, I’ll be worried about you getting hurt. Please?”

“All right. But only because Emma took my clothes.”

He leaned over and kissed her. Her mouth twitched. He eased back a fraction of an inch, an answering smile tugging at his lips. “What?”

“You’re cold.”

“You are too.” He leaned forward, his lips barely touching hers as he whispered, “That’s why I’m kissing you. I figured it would warm us both up.”

And he was right.

* * *

An orange glow lit the sky.

Victor carefully tied his tie, then jerked the knot out and let the silk hang free around his neck. A distraught businessman wouldn’t be immaculately dressed when he arrived on the scene of his business going up in flames.

He took his time saddling his horse, mounted, and rode a quarter mile before spurring the animal forward. It also wouldn’t look good to arrive at a sedate pace.

The flames shot higher, and he smiled grimly. Torching the building was a small price to pay to keep from being caught up in a scandal. He’d come out of this fresh as a newly laundered shirt; then he’d take the insurance money from the building and start over.

Losing his workers would be a little harder to absorb, but it couldn’t be helped. His deeds done in the dark of night were being pulled out into the daylight, and the citizens of Chestnut wouldn’t turn a blind eye as those in Chicago had.

But no matter. Everything would turn out fine. With the building reduced to ashes and no children to step forward, they had nothing to hang on him.

Not one blessed thing.

His family would be proud.

* * *

Jake gulped down two cups of Emma’s coffee before giving Livy a peck on the cheek. “Stay here. As soon as the fire is out, I’ll take you back to the orphanage.” He glanced at Emma. “That is, if Emma can scrounge up some dry clothes for you.”

Emma nodded. “I’m sure I can find something.”

Livy cupped his cheek. “Be careful.”

“I will.” He winked at her.

Jake let himself out and hurried toward the glove factory. How much of it had been destroyed? He’d gotten Livy to safety, and she’d promised she wouldn’t follow him. He could rest easy on that score. He’d make sure the men had the fire under control, then hoof it back to Emma’s.

And then he’d find Gibbons and get some answers.

The closer he got to the fire, the louder the yelling became. He sprinted forward, his bruised lungs burning from the effort. When he broke through the trees, he breathed a sigh.

The men shouted over the roar of the hungry flames to bring more water. The rear section of the factory was gone. The office where they’d been trapped still stood but was engulfed in flames. The men had formed a bucket brigade to the creek, breaking the ice so they could keep the fire contained. The factory’s seclusion had contributed to its being able to operate as a sweatshop without anybody knowing about it, but its aloofness turned into a blessing while it burned.

Jake cringed at the number of times he’d ridden by and viewed the half-concealed building from a distance, not bothering to check on the factory or the workers. But there hadn’t been any hint of anything illegal until Will set things in motion with his thievery. By trying to flush out the street kids, Jake had uncovered a nest of vipers in their midst.

Sheriff Carter approached him, face grim. “Somebody must have left a lamp burning or something. I haven’t seen Gibbons, but he’s gonna be mad as a hornet.”

Jake tried to suppress the hacking cough that bubbled out of his lungs.

The sheriff glanced sharply at him. “What happened to you? You get downwind of that smoke?”

“You might say that.”

Jake outlined everything leading up to the glove factory’s burning. “As soon as it’s daylight, we need to send a telegraph to Chicago. We might need some help.”

Sheriff Carter nodded. “What do you think Gibbons will do? You think he’ll run?”

“Maybe not. He probably thinks Livy and I died in the fire, if he even knows we were there in the first place. And if I can keep it that way, we might have a chance of catching him.”

Soon the bucket brigade slowed to a crawl as the exhausted firefighters realized the building couldn’t be salvaged and the flames no longer threatened their homes and businesses. Discussion broke out speculating the cause of the fire.