In Too Deep (17 page)

She climbed the ladder and turned around to tell Ethan she loved him, and saw his burns.

“This is where we get out.” Trixie grabbed Jasper's hand.

They waited until the wagon slowed for a turn and then jumped.

Jasper vibrated with nerves. Now that he'd decided to run, he wanted to run fast and far. Trixie caught his hand and dragged him back the direction they'd come.

“Why did—?”

“Keep quiet . . .” Her voice broke.

It was dark enough he couldn't see her expression, but she'd killed someone. That knowledge was in her voice. He knew she wanted to clean up her life.

Now, on day one, she'd shot a man.

“Don't do anything to draw attention,” she whispered.

The street was mostly deserted, but there was an occasional lit-up building. Voices could be heard wafting out the swinging doors along with tinny music and the smell of whiskey. Jasper wouldn't have minded wetting his throat and steadying his nerves with a swallow or two.

They walked so far that Jasper had to fight to not complain. All he could think was Trixie had planned this—apparently for years.

So, since his only plan was to run for his meager bank account, hope he could empty it without the Hardeseys spotting him, then make a dash for the train—a series of actions that would almost certainly get him killed if the Hardeseys were looking for him—he'd let her lead.

They came to a dry-goods store, and Trixie pulled him into an alley. “Go in there and buy us some things.”

She then gave him a concise list and the money to pay for what she wanted. He listened to the drab clothing she wanted and hated it. But he followed the only plan they had.

They changed into less eye-catching clothes in a little entry built onto the back of a store.

The store, the lean-to, even the clothing was all part of her plan. She'd left nothing to chance.

They got rid of their old clothes and kept on walking. The night began to give way to dawn. They needed to get out of town before daylight, when he'd be much more likely to be spotted. Trixie left him behind at their next destination. She went into a derelict building and came out with a reticule that hung heavy on her wrist.

“My money. I had it hidden under a floorboard in there. Now we buy horses.”

Before the sun was up, they had two horses from a hostler, who was just opening in the predawn hours, along with saddlebags stuffed with provisions. Once they cleared the edge of Houston, he decided it was finally time to talk.

“Stop,” he said.

“No, I want more miles between us and that awful town.”

It wasn't the town that was awful; it was the life they'd chosen. Jasper grabbed her reins and pulled both horses to a stop.

“Jasper, let go!” She yanked against his hold, but he dismounted and dragged Trixie off her horse.

Looking at her in the full light of morning, he could finally see what was in her eyes. Devastation.

He wanted to demand details, but instead he pulled her hard against him and kissed her.

She struggled long enough that he knew she wasn't thinking. Trixie never struggled. At last she went limp. He expected the next move to be her throwing her arms around his neck. Instead, she began to cry.

He was manhandling her, yet when the tears came he softened the kiss, deepened it.

Then he quit altogether. This wasn't a time for kissing. He slid his arms more securely around her waist and pulled her head into his neck and cradled her while she wept.

“I'm sorry.” He rubbed her back.

“I—this is stupid—I didn't—I've never killed anyone.”

“You had no choice, darlin'.”

“Of course I had a
choice
.” She gave a violent shake of her head and shoved at him.

He held on doggedly. “Not if you wanted to live.”

Her hands came up to cover her face, and she sobbed until it wrenched her body. He held on tight. “That's just it, Jasper. I
could
have died.
Both
of us could have died.”

“That's no choice.”

“It is. I want to change my life. I've known for years I needed to change, to get right with God.”

Jasper couldn't control the shock. His hands tightened with a spasm on her waist. “Get right with God? Trixie, women who own brothels don't . . . don't . . .”

“Don't believe in God?” Trixie's head came up. “I do.”

“Well, yes, I'm sure there is a God, but—”

“Then what, Jasper? Women who own brothels don't go to heaven? Is that what you're trying to say? There's a heaven, but we don't get to go there? I'm getting older. Women in my profession don't live to a ripe old age. I spent time with . . . with men doing things that make me believe I know what hell will be like.”

“Trixie, I'm so sorry.” And he was. He should have taken her out of that unsavory life and given her . . . another unsavory life . . . with him.

“I don't want to spend eternity there.” She gripped the collar of his shirt. “I've had enough of it in this life. I've been looking for a chance to get out for years, and now I've done something that will put me beyond the grace of God.”

“No, I don't believe that.”

“Jasper Henry, you don't believe in
anything
except your money and your hired thugs.” The venom in her voice shocked him. She loved him. She'd as good as admitted it. And yet now she sounded like she hated him, held him in utter contempt.

So which was it? Hate or love? And could it possibly be both?

“Don't waste my time telling me what you believe, because it means
nothing
.”

Their eyes locked. Jasper saw things in her eyes he'd never noticed before. Her wish to change her life told him a lot of what she was saying had been her true feelings for years.

Which, since he'd never noticed, meant he was as unfeeling and cruel as any man who'd ever lived. But he didn't have to stay that way. “What do we do now?”

“You mean now that I'm a murderess?”

“It was self-defense.”

“He's just as dead, and at my hand.”

“To keep me alive. You
saved
me, Trixie.” Jasper didn't want to think about heaven and hell. He had managed to live this long by not thinking of what kind of afterlife he was fit for. But right now, Trixie needed him to say the right thing.

And he had no idea what that was. How dare he speak of what is right? It was so far from his life, he couldn't quite imagine it. So he said, “Let's get married.”

Her jaw dropped. Well, at least he'd distracted her from this self-flagellation thing she was doing.

“It'll be a good cover. No one will imagine us as a poorly dressed”—he flicked the ruffled neck of her blue gingham dress—“
married
couple. They'll be looking for a wealthy criminal and a . . .”

“Prostitute? Light-skirt? Streetwalker?”

Jasper stared at her, then felt a smile creep across his face. “Whatever you
were
, now you're a frumpy frontier woman.”

“Frumpy?” Trixie's eyes flashed with indignation. She was weary and hard-living, but she'd always been attractive.

He kissed her. “Only the dress, darlin'. You're still the prettiest thing I've ever seen.”

She swatted his arm and some of the tight grief eased from her expression.

“Killing a man is a terrible thing.” He held her upper arms and rubbed, trying to help her feel anything but guilt. “But it happened. If you want to change your life, instead of starting last night when we decided to run, start now. From now on, you're as sweet and innocent as a newborn baby.”

Trixie shook her head, a rueful expression on her face. Her hand let loose of the choke hold on his collar and came up to rest against his cheek. “You always were a sweet-talking devil.”

He bent to kiss her again.

She ducked. “Now you behave yourself, sir. I am a proper woman, and I am saving myself for the man I marry.”

Jasper jerked back and frowned. “Really? We've been up all night. I sort of thought we could find a place to camp now and, well, considering the trauma you've just experienced, maybe you'd allow me to . . . to comfort you.”

Trixie snorted. “You aren't going to
comfort
me until we find a preacher man and say some vows before God and man. Until then, you just behave.”

“You wouldn't consider changing your ways a couple of days from now, would you?”

Trixie laughed.

The sound gave Jasper hope that she'd be all right. But there were still shadows in her eyes. Killing a man would haunt her. The memory would jump out and slap at her at odd moments for the rest of her life.

He knew it for a fact.

It would be a ghost that followed her like the ghosts of men who had dragged her into a life she considered a lake of fire.

Jasper had more than a few ghosts, beginning with his mother.

“I know a little town that's a hundred hard miles from here.” Jasper decided it was his turn to plan. “We can make that in a day on a fast horse, if we push. By nightfall we can be in Bryan, a town big enough to have a parson. And we can make this trip our very own honeymoon.”

“Riding hard away from Houston suits me.” Trixie nodded.

They lit out for the West. They'd gone through all the steps of her plan apparently. Changing clothes, getting her money and horses, leaving town and leading a respectable life.

The
where
didn't matter.

So she let him pick the direction.

All he could think of was the last message he'd had from his men about a little town called Rawhide, Colorado.

He spurred his horse toward the northwest.

“Ethan, sit down!” Audra grabbed his arm. She acted as if she needed to hold him up. Which was ridiculous. He'd been holding himself up just fine.

“What's the matter?” Ethan let himself be dragged to the kitchen table. He started to sit when Audra said, “Wait!”

She turned the chair around. “Straddle it.”

“Why? Audra, I have work to do. I need to track the man who did this, and the barn needs to be checked real carefully for sparks.”

“Your arm.”

Ethan straddled the chair, with Maggie wriggling in his arms, all tears forgotten now. Audra's mention of his arm made him look down, and what he saw on his left arm made his stomach lurch. Ugly. Red. Blisters from his elbow to his shoulder. As soon as he saw the wounds, he felt them and they were agonizing.

In fact, as soon as he realized what he was feeling, he knew they'd been hurting for a long time.

He thought of Seth's ugly scars. He'd have them now, too. Audra wouldn't be able to stand to look at him.

“Set Maggie down. She's not crying anymore.”

Maggie was on his lap. Happy. The little imp needed to be asleep, but it wasn't her fault she'd been thoroughly disturbed.

He set her down and she giggled. “Make sure and close that trapdoor. Before Maggie takes a tumble.”

Audra shoved the trapdoor forward carelessly so it slapped shut with a loud bang.

Lily jumped in her arms, but Audra bounced her and rushed for the basin.

“We'll get cold water on the burns while I make a poultice.” Audra was suddenly crackling with energy and purpose. She bounced Lily while she grabbed a washcloth, doused it in the water basin, and wrung it out. The woman was truly an expert at handling children.

“Just get me a clean shirt.” His arm burned, and if he wasn't mistaken, his back did, too. “That's all I need. I've got work to do.”

He remembered how sick Seth had gotten with the burns. Ethan had been sure Seth would die. The way he'd treated his little brother had made it worse, had hurt Seth on top of the burns.

A sudden sick fear that his burns might be that bad almost made him act like the coward he was. He found he couldn't summon a smile.

“No time for fussing, Audie, darlin'.”

“If you call me Audie again, I will pour a whole cup of salt on your burns.”