Fugitive hearts, p.19
Fugitive Hearts, page 19
His cousin knew better than to suggest such a thing.
“No. She doesn’t need to be involved.” Jasper flat refused to ask his younger sister for more favors. He’d already asked too much of her over the years.
She had lied for him, hidden him and patched him up. He would leave her in peace, while continuing to funnel money into a bank account he’d set up for her and her daughter. They could use another four hundred dollars.
“Hell, for that kind of money, I’ll risk it.” Candy leaned forward in the rocking chair to rest his arms on his knees. He’d gotten flushed with excitement or liquor. Either turned his face red.
“You’d risk your neck for forty dollars, which is why I don’t let you make any decisions that have to do with money.”
“How hard can it be?” Candy grinned.
He smiled more often since getting that gold cap on a front tooth, which had gotten broken off in a fight. Too brash for his own good, yet loyal to a fault.
Loyal men were hard to come by.
“That’s why I don’t let you do the thinking, either.” Jasper planned the jobs and managed the execution. The other two weren’t smart enough. He wouldn’t want them to plan a family picnic, much less a robbery.
What a sorry lot they were. But they’d been together from the start, had each other’s backs. No one else gave a damn about them.
“All right,” Candy slapped his knees and straightened. “You decide who goes and collects. But we split it, right? Just like always.”
“Yeah. We’ll split it. If I collect.” Jasper leaned back to ponder what he ought to do.
Billy claimed to be an orphan. He’d said he shot his guardian’s husband. Why would they offer such a large reward for his safe return? Oddly enough, the notice made no mention of the shooting. The boy could be lying. Or there was more to the story than what he’d shared. Or...
The reward could be a smokescreen. Someone on the train might’ve noticed Billy, and the outlaw riding after him.
Jasper sighed. In hindsight, it would’ve been better to leave well enough. At the time, he hadn’t taken time to think about it. He had heeded an inner voice. He’d better stop listening to that do-gooder. It would get him killed.
He looked between the two men awaiting his decision. “We don’t know why they offered all that money for an orphan. They might’ve figured out we have him. Want to flush us out.”
Tom looked unconvinced. “How would they know we have him? You haven’t taken him anywhere but here.”
“Someone on the train could’ve seen him, and seen me when I rode after him. I don’t want to walk into a trap.”
Candy released a huff. He sometimes confused caution with cowardice. “What’re you sayin’ Jasper? You’ll just let all that money slip away?”
Under normal circumstances, no, he wouldn’t turn down a chance for easy money. But betraying a boy who trusted him didn’t set right. He couldn’t turn the kid in without first discovering who wanted him and for what purpose.
Jasper pushed out of the chair. “I’ll slip into Parsons. Find out why they’re so anxious to get him back.”
“You?” Tom looked alarmed. “There’s a big price on your head. If somebody recognizes you—”
“They won’t. Those Wanted posters don’t look a thing like me. I’m a lot handsomer.” He joked about it, but he knew he would have to take care not to be noticed. “I’ll see if my contact can help us.”
“This contact of yours, who is he?” Tom asked.
Candy leaned forward, as if he thought he might learn the secret.
“You know I can’t tell y’all that.” Jasper wasn’t so stupid he’d give up critical knowledge. Not even to his most loyal men.
Six months ago, when he’d been hanging out around Vinita with no money and few ideas about where get some, he’d met a white man who had offered him work. Typically whites didn’t venture into Indian Territory to recruit employees. This fellow claimed he wanted men who wouldn’t ask too many questions.
The jobs were small, at first. Mostly vandalism against the railroad. Then his contact suggested he’d be willing to provide information about when the payroll would be moving. In return, Jasper would keep his mouth shut about where the information came from and turn over a small percentage to his benefactor.
Not being the trusting sort, he had done his own investigation and had discovered the surprising identity of his contact. This knowledge gave him power and some degree of protection. He would keep the secret as long as it benefited him to do so.
“What makes you think this contact won’t betray you?” Tom asked.
Jasper shrugged, as if he weren’t concerned. “He hasn’t turned on me yet. No reason for him to do it now. He’s got too much to lose if I blow.”
“Not if he has you killed,” Candy pointed out. Unnecessarily.
Jasper knew the risks. He never went into anything unprepared. “I’ll be back within the week. Then we’ll take the kid in—if it’s safe. You two stay here. Keep an eye on Billy. Don’t hurt him. And whatever you do, don’t lose him.”
When Billy returned from checking the snares, Jasper had up and lit out. According to Tom and Candy, the boss had gone to scout a new job, which meant to plan a robbery.
It wasn’t fair. Jasper had finally decided to do something interesting, and he’d left without his apprentice.
“Hey Shorty, you gettin’ hungry?” Candy remained planted in the rocking chair on the front porch. The lazy oaf wouldn’t rustle up dinner. He wanted someone else to do it.
Billy hunkered down on the front step with his arms on his knees and didn’t offer. He’d starve first.
“I shore did work up an appetite.”
Doing what? Sitting? If Candy was so hungry, why didn’t he get off his fat butt and get himself something to eat?
The other chair creaked. Tom Bluejacket was just as lazy, even if he wasn’t fat. “Sun’s setting. Now would be a good time to go fishing.”
Billy wasn’t moving from this spot. “Why don’t you two go?”
“Can’t. I got to finish this.” Tom rocked slowly. He’d whittled every so often on a piece of wood that appeared to have no definable shape or useful purpose.
“Tell you what. You catch us a mess of fish and we might let you eat some.” Candy slapped his knee and hooted.
He amused no one but himself, but that didn’t stop him. For some reason, he’d been in a jovial mood ever since he and Tom had returned from town.
Billy still couldn’t figure out why Jasper had left him in the company of these two idiots. The outlaw was supposed to show him how to be a train robber. Instead, he’d learned how to hunt and fish, and Jasper had talked him into helping with repairs on the cabin. All that work hadn’t been bad. Mostly because it was fun to be in the company of a man who seemed to have all the time in the world to teach him things. It wouldn’t change his mind about being a farmer, if that was Jasper’s plan. The confounded outlaw hadn’t even talked about robbing trains. In fact, he’d acted like he didn’t care if he never did another job.
Someone cuffed Billy on the back of the head.
He leapt up and whirled around with his fists raised. “Stop that!”
“Oh, no! I’m so scared.” Candy spoke in a high, quivery voice with his hands held high. He doubled over with laughter.
“You’re in charge of dinner tonight, Shorty.” Tom kept right on shaving that stick.
Billy entertained a rude thought involving the stick and where it might be placed. “I was in charge of dinner last night.”
“And you’ll be in charge of dinner tomorrow night,” Candy shot back. “You want to be part of the gang? You gotta make yourself useful.”
“You and Tom don’t do anything except sit around and drink Jasper’s liquor.”
“It ain’t Jasper’s liquor. We share everything, even Steven.” Candy slipped his forefinger in the round handle of a narrow-mouthed jug, lifted it up to his shoulder and took a swig. He wiped his mouth with a dirty shirtsleeve. “Now get goin’ before it gets dark.”
Billy simmered. He could refuse, which would provide brief satisfaction. But then they’d beat him and he’d have to do what they wanted anyway—or leave. If Jasper were here, Candy and Tom wouldn’t dare beat him. He’d have a talk with Jasper when the outlaw got back. These two loafers should have to earn their keep.
After another moment, he got up slow and went inside the cabin to fetch a sack for the fish. He spotted a saddlebag hanging from a peg near the door.
A wicked idea took hold.
Billy tucked the saddlebag under his arm and snuck out the back door. What a good laugh he’d have when Candy found his saddlebag filled with stinky fish. Oh man, it would be worth the beating.
For the rest of the afternoon, Billy hung out down by the creek. He wasn’t in a hurry to get back and fry up somebody else’s supper. If they didn’t like it, they could come down here and catch their own dang fish.
After a while, he opened the saddlebag and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Perfect for wrapping the fish once he got around to catching some. He opened the paper, which kind of reminded him of the Wanted posters in the sheriff’s office.
Reward. Missing boy.
Billy’s stomach knotted. He quickly scanned the fine print. Mrs. Daines had made him learn how to read. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t know he had a price on his head.
The significance of where he’d found the poster dawned on him. Candy and Tom had brought this reward notice back with one intention. They hadn’t acted on it because they never did anything without Jasper.
And Jasper had left.
The last line condemned him.
Contact Labette County Sheriff Frank Garrity.
Billy tried to breathe and couldn’t. Jasper’s betrayal stuck in his throat like a fishbone. The outlaw wasn’t scouting a potential robbery. He’d gone to Parsons to collect the reward.
No wonder those two fools were in such a good mood. Every time they looked at him, they saw the four hundred dollars they’d split three ways.
The double-crossers.
Billy scrubbed away angry tears. He wouldn’t cry on account of those no-good, low-down belly crawlers. Mrs. Daines had an acceptable reason to give him up. He’d killed her husband. Jasper had brought him out here and acted friendly. Then put him to work like a slave, and now planned to sell him. What the railroaders had said was right. Men who held up trains weren’t to be admired. They were dishonest. Rotten right down to the core. Even Jasper. He’d turned traitor at the mere mention of money.
What time was it?
Not the time to sit around and nurse hurt feelings. Wouldn’t do no good. Never had.
Billy rummaged through the saddlebag to see what else it might contain. He found a small sack of coins. What good fortune. He’d need money to get home.
He didn’t want to be an outlaw no more. And he wouldn’t stick around here, waiting until those liars bundled him off to Parsons. He still had a chance to become a hero and get a job with the railroad—if he could catch up with Jasper.
Billy set out at a trot toward the sinking sun. The railroad lines were in that direction. Jasper hadn’t told him how far. He’d go straight, as the crow flies, and eventually find the tracks. Hitch a ride on a northbound train.
He’d sneak back into town, locate Jasper. Then he’d tell the sheriff where to find an outlaw with an even bigger price on his head.
Chapter 22
The jail cell had a small window with iron bars, which overlooked a barren field where gallows were constructed when necessary. None had been needed since late last year when Henry’s former assistant, Mr. Caldwell, had been hanged for the murder of a railroad investigator.
Claire was painfully aware she’d risked the same fate when she confessed to killing her husband. But considering a possibility and looking one square in the face were very different matters.
“Mr. Bond claims your husband said you would kill him if he sold the hotel.” The lawyer’s remark from behind her penetrated her morbid musings.
“Yes, the sheriff told me what he said,” she answered without turning around.
God help her.
All her energy had to be directed toward remaining clam, collected. She hadn’t been either when Frank had brought her in here yesterday. Stunned, heartbroken, then furious at his deceit.
After she had licked her wounds and reflected, she’d accepted the obvious. The sheriff had simply done his job. She was the one who’d forgotten her common sense and fallen in love. Didn’t mean she’d forgive him for lying to her.
She continued to stare out the window. “Frederick might’ve made the remark in jest, though I doubt it. His condition affected his sense of humor, as well as his reason. He had an unnatural fear that plots were being hatched against him. He also accused the cook of trying to poison him, and I can assure you Mrs. Kelly prepares wholesome meals.”
At her attorney’s silence, she finally faced him.
The serious, dark-haired lawyer leaned heavily on a cane he used for balance.
Her manners had flown out that window.
“Please, do sit down, Mr. Moore.” She gestured to a chair the sheriff had thoughtfully provided. Frank had also placed a mattress on the hard cot and brought in a washstand. He’d done everything he could to make her comfortable. Everything, except release her.
“Thank you.” The lawyer used his cane for balance and lowered himself onto the chair seat.
According to what he’d told her, he had recently immigrated to Kansas. From where, she didn’t know. Somewhere in the South, based on his accent. He mostly handled land disputes, which often put him in opposition to the railroad. This could be an asset or a liability, depending on whether the jury had more settlers or railroad men. Regardless, he’d been the only attorney in town who’d been willing to take her case.
He pushed his sable hair out of his eyes. Despite being somewhat gaunt, he had even features, and could easily be called handsome.
For some reason, Claire thought about her sister’s preference for dark-haired men with soulful eyes. Hannah would enjoy meeting Mr. Moore, although it was doubtful the two would have the opportunity to make an acquaintance.
He leaned his cane against his leg. Took out a notebook and pencil from a case he’d put on the floor. “Were Mr. Bond and your husband well acquainted?”
“Frederick wasn’t well acquainted with anyone, except me.” She walked the breadth of the confined area. “I invited the Bonds to dinner shortly after they arrived in town. Henry and the railroad directors had a falling out, but I was prepared to bury the hatchet with the new general manager for the sake of peace. When the Bonds returned for another visit, I was surprised Frederick was willing to see them. As I told you before, my husband feared social settings. I took his interest as a positive sign. I didn’t suspect Mr. Bond might be manipulating him into signing away our rights.”
Thus far, Mr. Moore seemed quite intelligent and very much a gentleman. She prayed he could help her avoid being hanged, among other things. “Will you be able to make the Bonds return my hotel?”
“Shouldn’t you be concerned about gaining your freedom first?”
“Of course.” Claire ceased pacing and clasped her hands together in front of her.
“Won’t you sit down, Mrs. Daines?” Mr. Moore indicated the cot.
She was too nervous to be still. But if she remained standing, propriety dictated that he should do the same. He couldn’t stand, hold a cane, and take notes.
“Yes, thank you.” She ran her hands over her skirt. Without her chatelaine with its keys, her hands had nothing to do. Most women knitted. Being in charge of a hotel, she had no time for that. She might attempt it in here if she could coax someone into bringing her yarn and needles.
She tried a deep breath to calm her jitters. “The sheriff said I must remain in jail for my own sake. Until the judge arrives for the hearing. He has odd notions about protection, don’t you agree?”
Mr. Moore’s sympathetic expression turned reproachful. “Sheriff Garrity agreed to release you on bond. If you will sign an affidavit swearing to the fact that your foster son fired the gun.”
Claire released a long sigh. She actually hadn’t requested a lawyer. Frank had recruited the man in an ongoing effort to pressure her into admitting her innocence. “I won’t swear to that.”
The lawyer studied her for long moment. “You’ll be in a better position to reclaim your property if you’re not in jail.”
Mr. Moore made a compelling argument. Hopefully, he would be just as persuasive at the upcoming hearing.
If she betrayed Billy, the judge would take one look at the boy’s troubled past and his current association with outlaws, and condemn him. Even if Billy didn’t get sentenced to hang, he would be locked up. Or sent to a home for derelict children. Regaining her life wasn’t worth ruining his.
Claire lifted her head with a clear conscience. “I did not murder my husband, Mr. Moore. The gun went off by accident, as I’ve told both you and the sheriff.”
The lawyer heaved a heavy sigh. That wasn’t the answer he sought and they both knew it. They’d gone over her statement several times already. She wouldn’t change the facts. Given Mr. Bond’s revelation, things didn’t look good for her. She would admit that much.
“One more thing...” Mr. Moore rubbed his hand over his knee. From what she could deduce, he had false leg shoved into a boot. Perhaps the damaged limb still pained him, which would be a shame. It wasn’t something she should ask about and it would embarrass him. “Sheriff Garrity sent a telegram to your brother.”
Frank had threatened to notify Henry if she didn’t.
“Did he respond?”
“He’s on his way here.”
Claire dropped her chin to her chest and heaved a discouraged sigh. She hadn’t wanted to involve Henry. He’d left Parsons to put a painful past behind him. If he returned, all the muck would be dredged up again.
