Flint Hills Bride (8 page)

Jake leaned against the wall, wondering how long he would have to wait, praying that they hadn’t left this station for another one. He looked back up at the sign. The M. K. T. angled slightly west of north or east of south. Was Berkeley taking his Emily to Mexico? Or Canada? Or was he heading for another hub in Junction City? Lord, if he lost them, it would be difficult to pick up their trail again.

The waiting was wearing on his admittedly short patience. He needed to know he hadn’t lost them. He hazarded a peek around the side of the building. There was little activity on the platform. And no sign of Emily.

He stepped cautiously onto the platform, keeping close to the wall. No one took notice of him while he lounged against the wall, thinking. He needed to remain out of sight of the window yet get close enough to glance through it, all the while doing nothing to draw the other travelers’ attention. He slid the saddlebags off his shoulder and rested them on the floor beside him, hoping that made him look more relaxed.

As he was about to ease toward the window, Anson Berkeley stepped through the door. Jake’s muscles tensed, preparing to dive off the platform and out of sight. But, as Emily did not follow, he remained still. Berkeley, after all, didn’t know him.

From under the brim of his hat, Jake watched Berkeley motion to one of the boys loitering near the station.

“Here, boy,” Berkeley said. “I’ll give you a nickel
if you’ll trot over to the nearest restaurant and bring back two dinners.”

“Boxed for the train, sir?” inquired the boy.

“Yes, yes. And be quick about it. We don’t have all day.”

“Right away, sir.”

The boy turned, but before he could go, Berkeley caught up a handful of loose cotton shirt and hauled the boy back around. “Mind you come back, hear? I’ll turn you over to the law if you run off with my money.”

The startled boy shook his head. “Don’t worry, mister.”

Berkeley let him go, brushing off his hands and clothes as he watched him dart away. Berkeley turned to reenter the depot. His eyes fell on Jake.

Jake pulled his hat down a little lower and crossed his arms against his chest, pretending to rest. After no more than a couple of seconds, Berkeley turned away. Once he was back inside, Jake let out a sigh of relief. They were here. The train wasn’t expected immediately or he wouldn’t be ordering dinner.

After a few minutes, Jake lifted his saddlebags and jumped off the platform, sitting on the ground beside the building. Remaining on the platform was too risky. At any moment Emily could decide to step outside.

Berkeley’s request of the boy reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since the wee hours of the morning. He retrieved a can of peaches from his saddlebags and opened it with his knife. He used the same knife as a fork and ate them slowly, his ear tuned toward the platform.

He would wait. He would jump on the train at the last minute as he had done before, a car behind the couple, if possible. He would buy a ticket to whatever stop the conductor deemed necessary, then watch Emily from the back of the car. When they got off, he would get off.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he would do after that. Arresting Berkeley now and taking him back to Topeka sounded very appealing but would, no doubt, make Emily the fugitive’s strongest champion. The idea of waiting until he hurt or frightened her made his stomach turn. He thought of the boy’s fright when Berkeley threatened him and imagined the same expression on Emily’s beautiful face.

The sides of the tin can compressed under his fingers, and he loosened his grip. He wouldn’t let Berkeley hurt her. He would stay too close for that to happen. He would find some way to arrest Berkeley without losing Emily in the process.

He almost laughed at himself. When had he started thinking of her as his to lose? Hadn’t he decided that he wasn’t worthy of her, either? Evidently somewhere deep inside he hadn’t been convinced.

Emily looked up from her book and watched Anson pace across the room. It had seemed a little silly to tuck the novel she had started into the carpetbag to take up precious space, but now she was glad she had done it. If only Anson would settle down and let her read.

Every third time he passed in front of her he demanded to know where the boy was with their dinners. It did nothing to help her forget her hunger.
Once she had even offered to let him read her book, but he had only grunted and resumed his pacing. When he was in one of his moods, it was best to ignore him.

She tried to return her attention to the novel. It was one of Lynnette’s, a copy signed by “Silver Nightingale” herself. Her heroes were all fairly rugged men; this one was a frontier sheriff. She found herself picturing Jake as the lead, no matter how many times his hair was described as blond.

Anson paused in front of her again. She waited a second before she lifted her eyes from the book. She tried to put a questioning smile on her lips.

“Where in the hell is that boy?”

Emily sighed. “Anson, the restaurants are probably busy this time of day. You said yourself we had plenty of time.” Time enough for Anson to have gone for the dinners himself.

“I’m only thinking of you,” he snapped. “You were about to faint from hunger when we got off the train.”

“I think it was the motion as much as hunger that bothered me,” she said, affecting a patience she didn’t feel. “I’m right enough now, though I will enjoy the dinner when it comes. And it will come, Anson.”

Her smile didn’t placate him. He began his pacing again. Once across the room. Twice across the room. Emily reread the last three paragraphs, getting no more out of them this time than she had the last. She was practically holding her breath when Anson stopped in front of her again. She barely stifled a groan.

“He’s stolen my money, the little—”

“Anson!” The sharpness in her voice surprised him into silence. She took a calming breath. “Go pace outside, and let me read.”

Without a moment’s hesitation he snatched the book out of her hands and flung it across the room. Emily leaped to her feet to retrieve it only to be pushed back into the chair. “You could show a little more sympathy,” he hissed, “instead of wasting your time on drivel. It’s reading tripe like that that’s got you so hot to be married.”

He turned his back on her and resumed his pacing. Emily came slowly to her feet, her eyes on Anson. When he didn’t give her another glance, she walked purposefully toward the crumpled book. She lifted it carefully and smoothed the pages and cover with loving hands. It was a stronger link to her past than she had realized.

Without another look toward Anson, she moved to the door, stepping out onto the narrow platform. She had flung off her cloak when she had entered the depot. Without it, she could feel the cool air penetrate her many layers of clothing. It wasn’t so cold that she needed it for the few minutes she planned to remain outside. The chill air helped to cool her temper, as well.

Anson was right. She should be more sympathetic. They had no money to spare, and he had ordered the dinners mainly for her. She, in turn, had buried her nose in a book and left it all for him to worry about. She was even hiding some money from him. Yet…

She had the strongest impression that someone was watching her. She took a quick glance around at the
others on the platform. Everyone seemed occupied with their own concerns. Yet the feeling persisted.

Perhaps Anson was watching from the window or door, waiting for her to return and make up. She wanted to let him wait Maybe this time
he
should come to her and apologize. After all, he had thrown the book and made himself the most annoying pest possible. With a sigh she admitted he would never see it that way. She had provoked him.

She caught a glimpse of movement far to her right. She turned, but no one was there. Perhaps someone had moved along the side of the building. Or someone was hiding there. She felt her skin prickle. She had no desire to investigate.

She was getting cold after all, she decided. As she turned to reenter the building, a young boy, carrying two white boxes, stepped up onto the platform. The boy Anson had hired, she hoped, giving him a smile as she preceded him inside.

Anson stopped pacing to scowl at her. His face didn’t brighten when he noticed the boy behind her. “You, there. It’s about time.”

“Came as fast as I could, sir. A little more money mighta made the cooks work faster, I reckon.”

“Oh you do, do you? The promise of a coin didn’t make
you
move faster.” He took the boxes from the boy, handing one to Emily. Ignoring the boy, he took his own to a chair and sat, preparing to eat

“I worked hard for you, mister,” the boy said, loud enough to attract the attention of everyone in the room. “You promised a nickel.”

Anson took a bite of fried chicken. “You took too long,” he mumbled around the food.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Emily put the box aside. From the little reticule that dangled from her waist she pulled a handkerchief, then rummaged for the coin. Afraid Anson would try to stop her, she hurried to the boy. “Thank you very much,” she said softly. “I’m most grateful for your help.”

“Thanks, pretty lady,” he said, giving Anson one last scowl before he turned and ran from the room.

“You’re too softhearted,” Anson said, grinning at her.

“Thank you,” she said, giving him her warmest smile. “And you’re a tightfisted grouch.”

“Thank you, my dear. I’m so glad we understand each other.”

He winked at her, and she giggled. He was being charming again. “It’s a wonder what a little food does for your disposition,” she said.

“Ah, yes. And what a little charity does for yours.”

She decided to ignore him and concentrate on the food. She was so hungry she was afraid of eating it too quickly. She wasn’t sure how much time they had left before the train came. Anson was never specific with information like that. He would take care of her; she didn’t need to know.

The food was greasy, though still slightly warm, and there seemed to be plenty of it. She ate it slowly, pausing often to give her stomach time to settle. She didn’t want to disgrace herself by retching in a public place. Her stomach had been very sensitive lately.

She had finished the meal and was dreaming about lemonade when she heard the train whistle. “Is that one ours?” she asked, coming to her feet.

“Yes. Get your things. I’ll be glad to get out of here.”

They waited on the platform while the incoming passengers disembarked. That sense of being watched came over Emily again. She looked around, trying to determine the cause. No one was paying either her or Anson any mind, and she decided it was her imagination playing on her sense of guilt for running away. In some deep part of her heart, she must wish someone had followed.

She shrugged it off and followed Anson onto the train. He chose a seat near the front of the car, stepping back to let her sit beside the window. She didn’t want Anson to catch her nervousness and refrained from speaking as they waited for the train to move. But the uneasiness didn’t leave her even after the train lurched into motion.

It was her conscience watching her, she decided. She had stolen from her brother, lied to those she loved. But, she reminded herself, she had had little choice. Perhaps if her body was more comfortable so too would be her conscience. She stood and shrugged out of the warm cloak. As she folded it into a cushion for her head she glimpsed a familiar figure in the back of the car.

Jake!

E
mily turned and sat so quickly she was sure she bruised her hip. What was Jake doing on the train? His hat had been low over his face, and she was sure he hadn’t seen her. But of course he had seen her! Why else would he be here except to follow her? He had been watching her at Emporia.

It occurred to her that he might be another example of her overactive imagination. She wanted to look again to be sure. She couldn’t make herself move. Perhaps it was best if he didn’t know that she knew he was following her. Oh Lord! She couldn’t think. Part of her traitorous heart was singing, “He followed me! He followed me!”

“What’s wrong, baby?” Anson asked.

“Nothing.” She said it too quickly. He would know she was lying. She leaned against the seat, pretending to try to sleep.

Was that really Jake behind her? And what if it was? Why should she be glad he followed? She should be terrified. Wasn’t Anson her only hope for a future—for herself and her baby?

She had to know if she had really seen him. She squirmed in the seat, hoping she looked as if she were trying to get comfortable. After a moment she stood, adjusting her cloak over the seat back. She made the briefest of glances toward the back of the car.

She was turning and regaining her seat even as her brain sorted out the image. Jake was there, trying his best not to be seen. He was slouched low in his seat, his hat pulled down over his eyes. But she didn’t need to see his eyes to recognize him. She recognized the dark brown hat and coat, the very shape of his shoulders. She
felt
him, had felt him even at the station in Emporia.

Anson was eyeing her speculatively. She tried again to pretend to sleep, but he wouldn’t allow it. Leaning close he asked quietly, “You saw someone, didn’t you?”

She shook her head.

His hand closed around her upper arm. “Don’t lie to me. Who is it?”

She hated Anson when he was angry. He terrified her. “It’s Jake,” she whispered quickly. “Jake Prescott. He’s just a friend.”

“Perhaps it’s a coincidence, him being on the train.” His eyes were boring into hers, and she couldn’t turn away. “You don’t believe that, do you?”

Emily shrugged. She had betrayed Jake. She tried to brush away the guilt Shouldn’t her loyalty be with Anson?

“Tell me about him,” Anson demanded.

She tried to pull her arm out of his grip but his
fingers tightened. “He grew up on the ranch,” she blurted.

“The ranch?” Anson’s eyes narrowed. “Does he work for your brother? Could he have sent him after us?”

She shook her head. “He was in town when we left. He’s a deputy now.”

Anson released her arm and lifted her hand. The change was frightening in itself. “Listen very carefully. He isn’t following you. He’s following me.” Emily started to protest, but a quick shake of his head silenced her. “The police in Topeka are out to get me. They no sooner let me out of jail than they dream up something new to try to pin on me. Your friend’s waiting for a chance to arrest me.”

“If that’s true, why hasn’t he already done it?”

Anson shrugged. “Maybe he’s afraid I’ll hurt you. Who knows what lies he’s heard. Maybe he wants to kill me and is waiting to catch me alone.”

Emily wanted to pull her hand from his but knew better than to try. “I can’t believe that of Jake.”

He smiled at her. The violence had left his eyes and she began to relax. “You are such a trusting little girl.” He bent forward and kissed her cheek. “That’s what I love about you.”

“Let me go talk to him,” she suggested. “I’ll make him tell me what he’s up to.”

“No. We don’t want to force his hand. Just be quiet for a minute and let me think.”

She sat in silence while Anson considered their options. She wanted to suggest again that she talk to Jake. Their shared history included countless times when she had talked him into things. It might work
one more time. Besides, she felt a growing need to tell him goodbye.

“I’m getting off,” Anson finally whispered.

“What?”

Anson waved her to silence. “At the next stop, just before the train leaves the station, I’ll get off. You keep your friend on the train.”

“He’ll just get off one stop later.” Why was he running? Why was he leaving her?

“Of course. But that’ll give me time to get away.”

“What about me, Anson?”
What about our plans? What about our baby?

“Tell him something to throw him off track. I’ll head for Denver. When you know you won’t be followed, meet me there.”

Why did his plan fill her with panic? “Anson, couldn’t we just go back to Topeka and fight these new charges? Can’t we clear your name before we start our new life?”

“Don’t be such a child, Emily. They won’t listen to me. I’ve been through this already. Just trust me and do as I say.”

Emily grabbed his hand. If he left her now they would never be together. Why did that thought come so insistently to mind? She had to tell him about the baby. “Anson, before you go…”

“Americus!” yelled the conductor.

“Open your window,” he said.

“What? Why?” Why wouldn’t he listen?

“I’ll make my move at the last possible moment. You’ll have to toss my bag out after the train starts to move.”

She blinked at him, unable to comprehend what he
was saying. With a screech of brakes and a resounding whistle, the train pulled into the station.

“Listen,” he said, taking her by the shoulders. “You have to do this. I’ll wait until the other passengers have gotten off. I’ll slip out. You—” He gave her a little shake. “Make sure he doesn’t follow, even if you have to trip him. Once the train starts, toss out my bags. I’ll need my clothes. Can you understand that?”

“Anson…”

“I’m out of time. Now do as I say.”

Anson let her go, and Emily watched a few passengers gather their things and leave the train. A man entered their car and found a seat

The conductor shouted, “All aboard!” and Anson waited another full minute. Emily thought she could feel a tension in the floor under her feet as the train built up steam. She found she was holding her breath.

The window! She had almost forgotten. She turned and slid it open, just as Anson moved. He was on his feet, running for the door as the train lurched forward. The jump must have staggered him, but he was on his feet when she looked out. She grabbed his bag and shoved it through the window, then turned to make sure Jake was still on the train.

He was standing now. And fixing her with a deadly glare.

Jake couldn’t believe it. Emily had helped Berkeley escape. Well, it shouldn’t have surprised him. He had known all along that she was going with Berkeley of her own free will. She had given him no reason to
hope she would choose the law, let alone him, over her precious Anson.

He lifted his saddlebags without taking his eyes off her, and made his way forward. Her expression held a mixture of fear and hurt, but he tried to ignore it. “Mind if I sit here?” he asked as he slipped into the seat Berkeley had vacated.

“Why did you follow me?” she asked.

Was there a hint of longing in her voice? No, he was imagining again. More likely she was hurt that he had scared off her boyfriend. “Berkeley’s wanted for assault and robbery,” he said. “Where’s he going from Americus?”

She shrugged. “He hasn’t done anything. The Topeka police are just out to get him.”

Her voice trailed off at the end. So, that’s what Berkeley had told her. And she wasn’t sure now if she believed him. “Do you have any money?” he asked more gently.

“What is it with you men? Is that all I am, money?”

Now where did that outburst come from? Something Berkeley had said, probably. He put a comforting hand on her clinched fists. “All I want to know is if you have fare back home?”

She looked appropriately contrite. “I can get home.” Then her head came up. “What are you going to do?”

“Just go home,” he said. He took one more look at her beloved face and fought back an urge to kiss her. Abruptly he stood and hurried toward the front of the car.

Emily watched in astonishment as the door closed behind Jake. Where was he going? Somehow she had thought she would have his company at least to the next stop and perhaps until a returning train came through. Why wasn’t he going to sit with her? Couldn’t he even stand to be in the same car with her?

She considered marching into the forward car and demanding to know why he was being so cruel. Of course she knew why. He was almost in love with her. She had realized it, though she hadn’t wanted to admit it. Her leaving with Anson had hurt him until he couldn’t stand the sight of her.

Well, fine! she fumed. Let him be that way. She didn’t want his love, anyway. Then why did it make her feel so sad?

She was lost in thought and didn’t notice when the train began to slow. The buzzing questions around her brought her out of her reverie.

“I reckon a bridge’s washed out,” someone suggested.

“Maybe it’s a robbery.” This was followed by a few shrieks.

In one instant, Emily knew with a clear certainty what was happening. Jake’s badge had been enough to convince the engineer to stop the train. She grabbed her bag and cloak and hurried into the aisle. She excused herself as her bag bumped a woman’s shoulder. A child leaned out of his seat, and she waited impatiently for his mother to pull him back in.

What if they didn’t stop the train, only slowed it? She hurried to the door and stepped out onto the platform. The train was moving slowly now, or seemed
to be until she looked at the ground slipping by beneath her. A little slower, she prayed.

“It’s just like jumping from the hay loft,” she told herself. Only she had been jumping onto a mound of hay, then. And the loft wasn’t moving.

And Jake had always been waiting for her at the bottom.

Jake.

The train had slowed to a crawl, and she tossed the bag and cloak. Whispering a prayer that sounded more like a curse, she stepped off the platform.

The ground came up to meet her faster than she expected. She rolled, as she had been taught to do if a horse threw her. The baby! she thought, coming to her knees. She hadn’t even thought of it before she jumped. She pressed her hands to her stomach, but she didn’t feel hurt inside. Other than feeling a little bruised, she was sure she was fine.

The train, already picking up speed, clattered past. Jake stood on the opposite side of the track, dusting off his hat. She was relieved to see him. Until this moment, she hadn’t considered the possibility that she could have been wrong. She might have found herself stranded here alone.

She came to her feet and watched him pull the hat down on his head. He took two long strides, lifted a pair of saddlebags and slung them over his shoulder, then took two more strides toward Americus before he noticed her bag. He froze for an instant, and she thought a strangled cry escaped his throat.

“Jake,” she called.

He whirled to find her.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she said.

He came toward her. “What exactly did you mean to do?”

She had been feeling guilty about giving his presence away to Anson. She had been relieved and pleased to see him across the track. She had even felt a warm flood of pleasure to discover his concern for her safety. She was forgetting her purpose. She gave her heavy skirt a cursory dusting. “You’re going after Anson,” she said. “I’m going with you.”

He shook his head. “Why didn’t you just get off with him?”

She straightened to her full height, which seemed inadequate next to Jake. “I was supposed to keep you on the train.”

He put one fist on his hip as he studied her. She didn’t like the scrutiny and brushed past him, heading for her cloak. The cold air, or his cold stare, was making her shiver.

“And having failed,” he suggested, following, “you decided to tag along and slow my pursuit”

She hadn’t actually thought of that, although she should have. After giving the cloak a shake to rid it of dead grass, she wrapped it around her shoulders. “I can’t trust you to arrest Anson. You’re liable to hurt him in a fit of jealousy.”

That was quite an accusation to make to even-tempered Jake, and she expected him to deny it. Instead she heard him mutter “Smart girl” as he brushed past her.

He reached her bag and lifted it, turning toward her with an outstretched hand. “Shall we go?”

They were in a wide river valley where bare trees lined little creeks and all but hid the hills beyond. To
their right the thickest growth of trees identified the river. Emily looked for a farmhouse but saw none, though there were some cultivated fields.

“Are we going to walk all the way back? It must be close to five miles!”

“Then your daily walks have been good practice, haven’t they?”

He was still waiting for her to join him. She did so reluctantly. With his hand on the small of her back, they started across the prairie along the railroad track.

She had done it again, leaped, this time literally, before she stopped to think. But what else could she have done? She couldn’t have simply gone home as Jake had told her. With Jake off the train, she could have gone on to Denver, but she had a nagging fear that Anson might not ever join her there.

She marched along beside Jake and found herself smiling. “I really surprised you, didn’t I? Jumping off the train.”

“Nothing you do should surprise me.”

“Probably not, but it did.”

“A momentary lapse.”

They trudged along in silence, Emily watching the uneven ground and little else. Each step brought pain to leg muscles that were sore from walking much of the night. A stinging pain in her left heel meant a blister had broken.

When Jake’s hand caught her arm, she looked up, ready to voice her misery. His fingers were on his lips.

“I think I hear something. There must be a road nearby.”

Emily heard it, too, behind them. It sounded like chickens fighting.

Jake grabbed her shoulders and brought her to the ground just as a wagon burst from a gap in the trees that hadn’t been apparent before. “They’re singing,” she whispered, covering her mouth to muffle her giggle.