Twin of Ice (29 page)

“Hell, no!” he blurted, then paused as Houston went to her knees and put her head in his lap. “At least I don’t think so. I…ah, I really don’t remember too well.”

With her cheek against his thighs, his hand in her hair, she was determined not to show her fear. “Tell me what you do remember.”

He began his story slowly. “I went to see Fenton, and nobody was home so I went upstairs lookin’ for him. When I got to the front of the house, there he was lyin’ at the bottom of the stairs. Dead. The next minute, Marc Fenton and some others came in and started yellin’ that I’d killed him. There was a fight, and I got hit over the head with somethin’ hard, and I woke up here. I think there’s talk of a lynchin’.”

Houston looked up at him with fear in her eyes and after a moment she stood and began to walk about the cell. “That’s a very weak story.”

“Weak!” Kane gasped, then calmed. “Houston, honey, it’s the truth, I swear to you.”

“You were the only one in the house? There were no witnesses that he was already dead when you entered?”

“Not exactly that way. I mean, nobody saw me come into the house, I don’t think, but maybe somebody saw Fenton dead earlier.”

“That won’t matter. If someone saw him die, that would make a difference, but you could have been hiding in a closet for hours for all they know. Did someone actually see him die?”

“I…I don’t know, but Houston—.”

She came back to sit on the bed by him. “Kane, everyone in town heard you say that you wished Jacob was dead. Unless you have an eyewitness to his death, we’ll never prove that you’re innocent. What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know, but I think I’m beginnin’ to worry. Houston, there’s somethin’ I wanta tell you. It’s about the money.”

“Kane,” she said softly, looking up at him. “Why
were
you at Mr. Fenton’s house? You weren’t really planning to murder him?”

“Hell, no,” he said quickly. “I had Mr. Westfield draw up a paper sayin’ that I was releasin’ all my claims to the Fenton property, and I was takin’ the paper to Fenton. What I wanta talk to you about is my money. If they convict me, they’re gonna confiscate everything I own. You’ll not only be a widow, you’ll be a pauper. Your only chance to save any of the money is to leave me right now before I go to trial. If you do that, Westfield can arrange for you to have a few million.”

Houston was barely listening to the last part of what he was saying. Her face showed how stunned she was. “Why did you go to Fenton’s?” she whispered.

“I told you,” Kane said impatiently. “I wanted to give him a paper sayin’ I had no hold on his property. Poor ol’ man, he was dead when I got there and never saw the paper. But, Houston, what matters is that you have to save yourself and you’ve gotta do it now. If I’m taken out of here and lynched, it’ll be too late.”

Houston felt that she was in a dream. Ever since she’d found out that Kane had married her to enact a plan of revenge, she had never felt the same. She’d admitted that she loved him in spite of what he felt about her, but in her heart she’d always known that some part of her would withhold her complete love.

“You’ve given up your revenge, haven’t you?” she asked softly.

“Are you on that again? I told you that all I wanted was to have him at my table at a house that was bigger than his. If I could afford it, what was wrong with it?”

“But you also wanted a lady-wife at the table, too. You married me because—.”

“You married me for my money!” he shot at her. “And now you’re gonna lose ever’ penny of it when they hang me for a murder I didn’t commit.”

Houston stood. He hadn’t said, in so many words, that he loved her, but he did. She knew it. She knew it with every fiber in her body. He had married her as part of a stupid plan of revenge, but in the end, he’d fallen in love with her and, because of that love, he could forgive an old man who’d wronged him.

“I have to go,” she said. “I have a great deal of work to do.”

If she’d looked at Kane, she would have seen the look of pain on his face. “I guess you gotta talk to Mr. Westfield about the money.”

“Someone,” she murmured, pulling at her gloves. “Perhaps Mr. Westfield isn’t the right person.” Absently, she kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry about a thing. I know exactly what to do.” With that, she called to the sheriff and he let her out.

Kane stood in the middle of the cell for a moment, unable to move. She had certainly jumped at the chance to get rid of him, he thought. He climbed on the cot to look out the window and, as he saw Houston speeding away in her shiny carriage, he had to blink his eyes to clear the water. Sunlight, he thought, stepping down.

Easy come, easy go, he told himself. He’d done all right without a wife before, and he’d do all right again.

“Sheriff,” he called. “You can let me out now. I found out what I wanted to know.”

“Not on your life, Taggert,” the man answered, laughter in his voice. “The city of Chandler needs the revenue that I’m gonna charge you for a night’s accommodations.”

Without a word of protest, Kane went back to the cot. He didn’t really care where he spent tonight.

“You’re sure you know what you’re doing?” Houston once again asked Ian.

Solemnly, Ian nodded as he glanced back at the small wooden crate in the back of the wagon. Beside him sat Zachary, his eyes straight ahead and alive with excitement. He wasn’t yet old enough to be fully aware of the dangers of what they’d planned.

“It isn’t in any danger of going off by itself, is it?” Houston asked.

“No,” Ian answered, but he couldn’t help glancing back at the little wooden box that held the dynamite.

Houston’s hands on the reins were white with the strain of holding them as tightly as she was.

It had taken nearly twenty-four hours to arrange what was going to happen tonight. She had known what she wanted to do, and right away she had also known that no adult would help her. When she’d asked Ian, she’d explained to him that he was taking a risk and could get into serious trouble if he was openly involved, but Ian had said that he owed Houston for all that he had now, and he was willing to risk anything. Much to Houston’s chagrin, Ian’d asked young Zachary to come along, saying that they needed someone to hold the horses.

Tonight, at midnight, Houston had met Ian at the Little Pamela mine and, counting on the confusion caused by the mine explosion, they’d broken the chains on the dynamite shack and stolen enough to blow away about two city blocks. Against Ian’s protest of the time it would take, Houston had rechained and relocked the shack.

Slipping about, neither of them very good at hiding the fact that they were doing something illegal, they managed to get the box into the waiting wagon. A few people said hello to Houston, but they’d seen her often in the last few days and thought nothing of her presence.

She and Ian were halfway down the mountainside when they met Zachary walking toward them. He’d climbed out his window, using a knotted rope, hours ago and had planned to walk all the way to the mine.

“You’re to do nothing but stay with the horses, nothing more,” Houston warned. “And, as soon as your father and I get on the horses, I want both of you out of there. Ian, can you get back into Edan’s house all right?”

“Of course.”

“And you, Zach?”

Zachary swallowed hard, because the rope had given way when he was still four feet off the ground. There was no way he could slip back into his house unnoticed. “Sure,” he answered. “No problem at all.”

Houston didn’t relax as they neared the sleeping town. It was three o’clock when they reached the jail. Earlier, she’d hidden two saddle horses outside the jail, their bags laden with food, clothes and enough cash to carry them through a couple of months in hiding.

She stopped the wagon quite a distance from the jail and watched nervously as Ian removed the box of dynamite. She knew that he had trained in the mines as a shot-firer, but she wasn’t convinced that he knew how to blow up the side of the stone jail.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Ian started talking. “I’ll put a few sticks in the base of that wall that’s in the hill, then, when it blows, the entire wall will come sliding down. It’ll be like opening a very large window. Kane will have to jump down from the floorboards onto a horse, and then you’ll be off. It couldn’t be simpler.”

“A very simple plan, for which we could all go to prison for the rest of our lives,” she murmured.

Yesterday, when Kane had told her that he might be hanged for a murder that he didn’t commit—and, when Houston was honest with herself, she admitted that she didn’t really care whether he was a murderer or not—she knew that something had to be done to get him released. The town’s sympathy would be on Kane’s side after the way he’d helped with the disaster, but the trial would probably go to Denver, and Fenton Coal and Iron was a powerful force in Denver. She did not think he’d have a fair trial and, with no witnesses except to say that Kane had been found at the top of the stairs with a dead Jacob at the bottom, she had no doubt that Kane would be found guilty.

After only a moment’s soul-searching, she knew what had to be done. She had to get him out of the jail, and even if it meant that they had to spend the rest of their lives in hiding, she meant to do it. They’d go to Mexico, and she thought that she could get Blair to send them enough money to live on. As long as Kane kept a quiet profile and didn’t call too much attention to himself, she thought they could get away from the American law. It was too bad that Kane was so well known in so many parts of the country, so they couldn’t possibly hide in the United States.

Houston’s only regret was that she wouldn’t be able to say good-bye to her family and her friends. She probably wouldn’t even be able to write to them, as her letters might lead to Kane’s capture.

But she knew what had to be done, and she felt that as long as she had Kane she could be happy, no matter where they lived or in what hardship.

Now, in the darkness, she directed Zach to get the horses from their hiding places, to tighten the girths and to bring the horses closer to the jail.

Her hands were trembling as she helped Ian insert the sticks of dynamite into the chinks of the stone wall. When everything was set, she motioned Ian to let her stand on his shoulders so she could see inside the window.

“Tell him to put the mattress around his head,” Ian said as he lifted her.

“We don’t have enough dynamite to hurt him, do we?” she asked.

“The heels on those boots of yours hurt, so don’t waste my time askin’ damn fool questions.”

Houston looked into the dark cell and saw Kane sprawled across the little mattress, parts of him hanging over the side. She tossed a pebble into the cell.

He didn’t even move and it took six stones, one of them glancing sharply off his chest, before he woke.

“Kane!” she said as loudly as she dared.

“What?” he asked, sitting up. “Is that you, Houston? What’re you doin’ here in the middle of the night?”

She motioned for him to come to the window. “I don’t have time to explain now but Ian and I are getting you out of jail. We’re going to dynamite this wall away, so I want you to get into the farthest corner and put that mattress around as much of you as you can cover.”

“You’re what?” Kane gasped. “Dynamite! Listen, Houston, there’s somethin’ I have to tell you.”

“Houston!” Ian said from below her. “Them little heels are killin’ me. Are you gonna stay up there all night?”

“I have to go,” she said. “Just get in the corner, and when the wall is gone, I have horses ready. I love you.” With that, she bent and got off Ian’s shoulders.

Kane stood by the window of the cell for several long moments. She hadn’t run off to get the money, but instead, she’d set up a plan to blow the side of the jail out and rescue him. He put his hands in his pockets and started to whistle a little tune, smiling at the thought of Houston being so concerned about him.

It was while he was whistling that he heard an odd sound, like something on fire.

“Dynamite!” he gasped, grabbed the mattress and leaped into the corner of the room. Nothing could have prepared him for the noise of the explosion. It was as if the top of his head had been taken off—and the noise went on and on.

Houston, Ian and Zach hid behind a boulder as the wall to the jail came tumbling down. The dynamite removed the foundation to the two-story wall and the stones above it fell rather gracefully, leaving a clear view of the interior of the jail. Kane was huddled in a corner and, when the dust began to settle, he made no attempt to move.

“We’ve killed him,” Houston cried and started running, Ian behind her.

“Probably just deafened him. Kane,” Ian shouted above the sound of the rock that was still falling, and when Kane made no response, Ian scrambled up the rock and into the three-walled cell.

Ian pulled the mattress off but Kane couldn’t understand a word he said, so Ian had to use gestures. For some reason, Kane seemed to have been made stupid by the explosion, since he kept shaking his head at Houston, and Ian had to nearly push him onto the rock pile so he could get to the ground.

Houston waited on a horse and, as Kane got close to her, she saw that he kept putting his hands to his head as if he were in great pain. He seemed to want to say something, but Houston wouldn’t give him time as Ian and Zach started pushing him onto the other horse.

“Go home, both of you,” she ordered as she saw that people were rushing down the street toward them after hearing the explosion.

“Let’s go,” she shouted to Kane and he followed her down the south road of town and out into the dessert.

Houston rode as fast and as hard as she could spur her horse, looking back occasionally to Kane who followed her with a blank, odd look on his face.

The sun came up, and still they rode, slowing just enough to allow the horses to breathe. At noon, they stopped at a stage station, a desolate place in the middle of the barrenness between Colorado and New Mexico, and Houston paid an outrageous price for two fresh horses.

“He all right?” the station manager asked, nodding toward Kane as he leaned against the building and hit his head with his hand.

Houston handed the old man a twenty dollar bill. “You haven’t seen us.”

He took the money. “I mind my own business.”

Houston tried to talk to Kane, but he just dumbly stared at her moving mouth and followed her only after she motioned him to do so.

What they ate during the day, they ate while on their horses, never stopping even after the sun set. Only once did Kane try to speak, but when he couldn’t seem to hear himself, he made gestures that Houston finally realized meant that he wanted to know where they were going.

“Mexico,” Houston shouted four times before he seemed to understand.

Kane shook his head, but Houston urged her horse on faster and ignored him. No doubt, he didn’t want her to get into trouble with him, but she wasn’t going to let him talk her into returning. If he was to live his life in exile, she was going to live with him.

Kane caught her horse’s reins and pulled until she had to slow down.

“STOP!” he bellowed. “WE’LL STAY HERE FOR THE NIGHT.”

Every word was at the top of his lungs and Houston blinked several times at the volume breaking the still night air.

Kane didn’t say another word as he dismounted and led his horse over a small hill and into a grove of trees. Houston followed his lead as he unsaddled his horse and made a camp for the night. She wanted to go on longer, to put more distance between them and the posse from Chandler, but perhaps Kane had been hurt in the blast and needed rest. It would take a long time before the citizens could be organized, so perhaps they had time.

She had the saddle in her hands when she glanced toward Kane and saw that he was looking at her in a way that was almost frightening.

Very slowly, he took the saddle out of her arms, tossed it to the ground, and after one look that she couldn’t interpret, he was upon her.

He was like a hungry animal and, after Houston got over her surprise, she reacted in kind. Buttons flew off her dusty riding suit like corn popping in a skillet. His mouth was all over her body at once, with his big, strong hands tearing away all that inhibited his contact with her skin.

“Kane,” she half-cried, half-laughed. “Kane. My only love, my true love.”

He didn’t seem to need words as he pushed her nude body to the ground and thrust inside her with the strength of the dynamite they’d set off that morning. Houston felt as if she were like the stone wall crumbling and, as they moved together in a sweaty, fierce passion, she was sure that this was all she needed in life, and that what she’d done today had been right.

When at last they erupted together, Houston shivered with the force of her passion and the depth of her love for this man.

They lay together for a while, Kane holding her tightly in his arms, as if he never meant to let her go. And Houston clung to him just as tightly, afraid now when she thought how close she’d come to losing him, how close he’d come to being hanged.

After a long while, Kane stood and went to the horses to care for them. Houston started to help but he motioned her to lie still, tossing her a blanket to cover her from the cool night air.

Even when he built a fire, he wouldn’t let her help. Houston started to protest that perhaps they’d be seen, but Kane shouted that she should trust him, and she did. She was glad to turn over the mastery of this wild escape to him, and she was glad to lie back and be waited on. He brought a plate of beans to her, with a tortilla and a cup of dreadful coffee. But Houston thought it was the most delicious meal of her life.

When they’d finished eating, Kane put out the fire, lay down beside her and pulled her into his arms. In minutes, both of them were asleep.