West of Paradise (10 page)

Jack’s hands tightened around the bars and he closed his eyes, gritting his teeth until the sudden rage had passed. “And you . . . you . . .”

“I hardly touched her,” Tommy spat. “He comes and grabs me off her and starts in on me, callin’ me names like I done somethin’ I wasn’t supposed to. Cripes, he told me I could have some! Then he does this. I can hardly move!”

“If Will promised you, how come he got mad?”

“Ask him, I’d like to know.”

“And you have no idea, not even a guess?”

“I said so, didn’t I? You deaf, mister?”

“No, I’m not deaf. Where did Will go?”

“Hell, I don’t know. I wasn’t in no shape to tell.”

“Well, where were you headed before he beat the shit out of you?”

Tommy scowled.

“Answer the man, Tommy,” Harlan said.

“East. We was headin’ east.”

Jack nodded and turned away. Any pity he had for the boy was gone now, replaced by a cold rage at what he’d done, or tried to do.

Outside, the town had come awake, and though the hour was early there were already a number of wagons rolling along the wide street. People walked briskly, and businesses were opening their doors.

“How’d he get here?” Jack asked Harlan.

“Some farmers came across him on their way into town. Lucky for him they were the kindly sort.”

“You told the Pinkertons yet?”

“Nope. Figured I’d let you get a step ahead.”

“Good.” Jack stuffed his hat down over his hair. “Try to keep them here for a while.”

“I’ll do my best,” Harlan said. “But you be careful, hear? An’ wire me if you need.”

Jack nodded and stepped out into the day. It was hot now, and the traffic had stirred up the dust to swirl around feet, layer the sidewalks, and leave a film over windows. Jack coughed and unwound the reins from the post, wondering where Will and Katherine were now. He tried not to think of what had happened to her, what Tommy might have done. Instead he thought of Tommy’s face, silently thanking Will for that.

Over at Bates Bros. Inc. he bought supplies: water skins, a bottle of brandy, hardtack, bread, raisins, a bedroll, a change of clothes, grain for the mare, and a box of bullets he hoped he wouldn’t need.

Chapter Thirteen
Kansas City Here We Come

K
atherine woke to the midday sun, the delicious smell of coffee, and the remains of a headache. For a moment, she simply lay there, savoring the cozy comfort of the bed.

But then she remembered. Everything.

Tears came to her eyes, burning, spilling over, and for a moment she let herself cry, sobbing hard. She missed home and her grandfather and everything she knew. Things like this didn’t happen to people like her! She was Katherine McLeod Kennedy, heiress to an immense fortune, and holder of the majority shares in McLeod Enterprises. She was the sort of person who was regularly seen on the cover of magazines, both real and net-bound. She was an American princess!

She squeezed her eyes shut, choked back a last sob, and wiped the tears away.
Enough!
Crying wouldn’t help and it certainly wasn’t going to change anything. She was stuck here now, and unless she figured a way out, she could very well be dead here, too. With a last catch of her breath she looked around at the room, all pink and white in the morning’s sun. The coffee drew her, and she sipped until her eyes fixed on her valise sitting at the end of the bed.

She stretched forward, grasping the handle and pulled it toward her, upending it on the bed.

Her clothing was there—the skirts and blouses—undergarments, the strong box with all the money and gems, even the pocket watch. It had a man’s name engraved on the gold casing, Charles Kennedy, her supposedly dead husband. A keepsake, should anyone inquire. Missing of course was the book with the key and she wondered if it was still back at the hotel with everything else and what the proprietor would do with her belongings. Sell them? Toss them?

A knock came then and she threw everything into the valise, shoving it away. She pulled the covers up to her chin.

“Come in,” she said.

Will Cushing stepped into the room, though it took her a moment to put a name to his face. He had taken a bath and shaved, changed into clean clothes. His hair was neatly combed and the hat he’d previously worn shoved down over his head now in his hands. He was actually rather handsome and certainly didn’t resemble the ruffian she had first seen.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

She nodded.

Will stepped inside, not very far, and his eyes didn’t quite meet hers, shifting away uneasily. “I . . . I came to tell you I’m leaving. You . . . you can go . . . where ever you were heading before all this. I . . . I’m real sorry, Katherine. I never meant . . .” He shook his head.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“East.”

“Are you going to try to find her?”

“Yes,” Will answered, his mouth turning hard.

Katherine looked at him standing there, like a beggar in a ballroom. He still wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“Tell me something, Will,” she said. “Where do you think I could go looking like I do?”

He gave a guilty shrug, shifting his weight.

“I’m going with you.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “You need to go far away, somewhere people won’t recognize you, maybe even out of the country.”

“I’m going with you,” Katherine repeated.

“Listen, Katherine. That wouldn’t be such a good idea. I’m as wanted as she is. And if I get caught, you get caught, and then it’s right back where you were, heading to the hangman’s noose.”

“I know that,” Katherine said, her voice taking on a steely tone. And she did, more than he knew. Heading east was a stupid idea. She could run into someone she was related to. Someone other than Alanna. She had been warned. But neither could she make for Leavenworth to retrieve her belongings. The proprietor of the Silver Slipper wasn’t going to let her anywhere near the place without raising an alarm. and that would get her right back to that noose.

As long as Alanna was free, Katherine was at risk of being mistaken for her.

Going east
was
a terrible idea and the possibility of meeting Alanna—her outlaw ancestor—scared the hell out of her. But clearing her name was the only way she was going to get that key and get home.

She held her head up high as she answered Will. “As long as Alanna is free, the chances of me having any kind of life are poor to none.”

Still he shook his head.

“Damn you, Will, if not for her none of this would have happened. Don’t you see? She did this to me. I want her just as badly as you do. Besides, you gave me all the money back. How far do you think you’ll get without any money? Unless, of course, you were planning to rob a bank, or perhaps a train?”

“Katherine,” Will started.

“You owe me,” Katherine said, playing her last card.

His eyes narrowed into cold darkness. “Fine,” he said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Even with all your money we might not make it.”

“Oh, I think we will,” Katherine said, a small hard smile coming to her lips. “Trust me.”

He shook his head but didn’t argue, leaving her to dress in the afternoon light. And while she did, she thought of Alanna McLeod, the woman with her face.
Oh, yes, she would pay,
Katherine vowed. She reached down to tie her boots, yanking the laces tight and tying them into double knots.

❧

“God, I hate black,” Katherine said, staring at the gown. The mere thought of wearing it was enough to make her feel as depressed as she was supposed to look.

The gown had belonged to Sadie and sat unworn in her wardrobe for two years before being pulled out for alterations. Lena had taken it in, added lace to the neckline and cuffs, and panels to the skirt to make riding easier. A hat, veil, and gloves completed the outfit and while quite fashionable Katherine would also probably melt from heat wearing it.

Of course, it was her own idea so she had no one else to blame. What better disguise than the one she’d first arrived in? She sighed and began to dress. Will would be along shortly and if they got an early start they might make it to Kansas City by the next day. The sooner they boarded that train the better.

“They’ll be after us, you know,” Will had said. “Once that bounty hunter is found we’ll both have our names dancing across the wires.”

Will made no mention of Tommy, nor she about Jack. Was he alive? Had he been found in time? They had been some distance from Leavenworth and without his horse he would have had no way to travel, not with a bullet in his leg.
Please, God
, she prayed,
let him be alive
. Tommy, on the other hand, had her full endorsement to descend directly to hell and burn for all eternity.

Katherine used the hand mirror to adjust her hat and veil, which hid the ugly bruise that had blossomed. How very prim and proper she looked, nothing like Alanna McLeod, and not much like Katherine Kennedy either. She put the mirror away and packed up the rest of her belongings, checked the room for anything else that might be hers, and wondered when she’d sleep in a place as nice. Probably not until Boston, she realized.

She hefted the valise off the bed and set it down by the door, shaking out the skirts of her gown before lifting the latch and descending the stairs where a man waited at the bottom. She didn’t recognize him at first. She thought he was a customer. It wasn’t until he tipped his hat that she took a step back and breathed in sharply.

“My God,” she breathed.

Will scowled. “If you keep cursing like that no one is gonna believe you’re a lady.”

“I . . . I’m sorry. I can’t quite believe it’s you.”

“Lena did a good job, eh?” Will smiled then, and his new look combined with the smile made him appear almost respectable.

Lena had bleached his hair from brown to blond and trimmed away the ragged edges. He was dressed in a rather fancy black suit and, completing the outfit, a highly polished cane with a pewter headpiece.

Will raised it with a grin. “Like it?”

“It’s perfect,” Katherine agreed. “No respectable outlaw would be caught dead with that.”

“Yeah,” Will frowned. “I know. Let’s hope no one finds out who I am.”

“Whose idea was it?”

“Sadie. She said it would make me look distinguished.”

“It does,” Katherine agreed. “And I think we just might pass as who we’re pretending to be.”

“Let’s hope so.” Will grabbed hold of her valise and waved his cane ahead of him. “After you, ma’am.”

Both Sadie and Lena were waiting in the entry. Sadie had a large basket, which she handed to Katherine. “A little something from the kitchen,” she said.

Lena gave them both a hug, wishing them luck and then Will was ushering Katherine out the door where their horses were waiting, the morning sun already hot and glaring down over the dusty streets.

“You have nice friends,” Katherine said as they started off.

He looked at her, not sure if she were serious or not, then shrugged and mumbled some sort of agreement before kicking his horse into a trot. Katherine followed suit, and they were soon past the town’s borders, traveling along a well-worn road with nothing but prairie grass on either side.

It took about thirty minutes before Katherine was ready to rip her clothes off. The sun was merciless. There wasn’t a breath of air, and no shade anywhere. The only thing that prevented her from stripping was Will and her desire for revenge. Thankfully she’d remembered how to ride, though it was bloody uncomfortable in skirts clearly not meant for the endeavor. The alternative was to ride side-saddle—which Will said could be arranged—but that was out of the question. Better to be thought of as not entirely respectable than inept.

Will, on the other hand, seemed unperturbed by anything. No doubt his suit was equally hot and uncomfortable but he said nary a word, merely tipping his hat slightly forward to keep the sun off his face and staring ahead at the road before them.

Katherine couldn’t help but think what she’d left: the comfort of her house on the Cape with its sea breezes and balmy waters and central air conditioning . . . Goodness, why on earth had she ever left? What in God’s name had she been thinking?

But the moment she tried to picture herself with Antonio, lounging by some pool, it all went sour. She couldn’t summon up any feeling for him at all, and she knew if she’d stayed nothing would have improved. She scowled at the road, feeling the annoying trickle of sweat running down her back.

❧

They paused during the hottest part of the day, using their horses as shade and eating sparingly from the basket Sadie had provided. There would be no food available on the train and they both agreed to try and save what they could for the journey. By the weight of the basket this would be easy. Sadie had packed a full platter of fried chicken, potato salad, rolls, cheese, and green grapes. The basket was as heavy as Katherine’s valise and their quick lunch did little to reduce its weight.

They started off as soon as they finished eating and before long the road widened to allow two wagons to pass by one another. They saw a few of these, as well as a number of pedestrians and riders like her and Will.

Towards dusk they drew off to the side for the night. Katherine spread her blanket out over the ground and quickly put the hat and gloves aside. She unlaced her shoes and drew the stockings away from her legs and toes, sighing as the cool air hit her. She folded the short black jacket into a pillow for later and let the air fan her for a while. For the first time since leaving Sadie’s she was almost comfortable.

They ate in silence and made their beds in the prairie grass, but for a long time Katherine lay awake, staring up at the stars.

They are the same
, she thought, the same stars she had always seen. The only difference was the date. Somehow Louis Cade had managed to slip her between, past the barrier of time.

At first, she’s dreaming of those last moments, hearing Miss Adjani repeating the rules she must follow, reminding her where she could not go, what she must hold dear. But even before Miss Adjani finishes speaking, Katherine feels herself fall the same way she did before landing in that storeroom in Leavenworth.

Only this time she falls into a desert. The sun is blinding, scorching the earth to a dry, cracked mud cake. Dead scrub trees dot the landscape along with brittle brown clumps of grass. Off in the distance low hills waver on the horizon, their hazy image shimmering in the stifling heat.

She’s sweating, of course, dripping wet and dressed in a long-sleeved, close fitting, black gown. The skirts are immense and weighted down by dozens of layers of petticoats. Her arms are tired, tired and aching from trying to lug the heavy valise through the sand and keep her skirts from dragging. Her throat is dry and her lips are cracked and burning.

With an exhausted cry she slumps to her knees, too hot, too sweaty, and too tired to take another step. Her breath comes out in hard ragged gasps.

And then, as if in answer to her silent prayers, a figure emerges from the shimmering haze, a figure on horseback. A man.

He wears a hat that hides his face and there is a rifle slung over the saddle in front of him, the accoutrements of travel tied into a bundle behind him. For a minute she thinks it’s Jack. But as he draws closer she sees that it isn’t Jack and when she sees the stupid, boyish grin she begins to scream.

“Katherine! Wake up.”

“No! Let go of me!”

She swung hard, hitting something and hearing a satisfying grunt in response. But when she tried to swing again her hands were caught and held before her.

“Katherine, stop! It’s me, Will.”

The grinning boyish face melded into something older and more mature, a face shadowed in darkness but without a trace of mockery. Will. Will Cushing.

He let go of her and sat back on his heels, the first light of dawn behind him. He sighed and waited.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered after a bit. “I . . . I didn’t mean . . .”

“It’s all right,” Will said gruffly. “Here, have some water.”

He handed her his canteen and she drank, slowly. Then she wiped her face with her sleeve and rose, brushing the dirt from her skirts. She glanced over at Will who still watched her warily.