Madeline Baker - Lakota Renegade

by Lakota Renegade (lit)

  Jassy fought the despair that welled up within her. She'd be seventeen next week. I don't want to."

  "I don't see that you have much choice," Rose replied coldly. "I'm not making enough to support both of us."

  "I'll get a job somewhere else."

  Rose laughed mirthlessly. "Yeah? Where? Who's gonna hire you?"

  "I don't know. Do we have to talk about this now?" Jassy stood up and smoothed the wrinkles from her dress.

  "Where do you think you're going?" Rose asked suspiciously.

  "To see Creed."

  "I don't think so."

  Rose gave Jassy a push that sent her sprawling backward on the bed. Hurrying from the room, she locked the door.

  "Rosie, let me out of here! Rosie!"

  "You're not running over to the jail to see that 'breed."

  "Rosie, you've got to let me go see the judge. It isn't fair. Creed didn't do anything. Please, Rosie. I'll do anything you say."

  "Damn right you will. Now shut up. I need to get some sleep before I go to work."

  Jassy's shoulders slumped dispiritedly when she heard the door across the hall slam shut. Since their mother's death, Rose had moved into their mother's bedroom, giving Jassy a room of her own for the first time in her life.

  For a time, she sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the raw plank floor. She didn't want to work in the saloon. Even if she could avoid working upstairs, she didn't want to have to wear one of the skimpy costumes Rose wore; she didn't want to have to serve drinks and smile at a bunch of men she didn't know and didn't want to know.

  But where else could she work? Rose was right. No one in town would hire her for anything respectable. Everyone in town assumed she would follow in her mother's footsteps. Like mother, like daughter, everyone said, assuming that because her mother and sister did what they did, Jassy would do the same. But she wanted so much more out of life. She wanted to be respectable. She wanted a home of her own, a husband, children. She wanted to be able to hold her head up when she went to church on Sunday. She wanted to be able to look people in the eye without shame.

  She wanted Creed Maddigan.

  Rising, she began to pace the small room. Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her that she hadn't eaten all day. Going to the door, she rattled the knob. Even if she could get out of her room, there probably wasn't anything in the house to eat. A tiny smile curved one corner of her mouth. She'd had plenty to eat in the last few weeks, thanks to Creed.

  Creed. He'd given her so much. She stared at the oilcloth that covered the room's small window, wondering what her mother had done with the money she made. She knew the rent on their ugly little house was high. Her mother had complained about it to the landlord often enough, but he'd just laughed and told Daisy that if she didn't like it, she could get out, knowing that no one else would give them a place to live.

  She knew what her sister did with her money. After paying her share of the rent, Rose spent the rest of her money on lavender toilet water and pots of rouge, black net stockings, and scandalous undergarments. Apparently food had never been a high priority for either her mother or her sister, Jassy mused.

  But none of that was important now. She pressed her ear to the door. The house was quiet. Rose must be asleep.

  She wiped her face and brushed her hair, leaving it loose about her shoulders because she knew Creed liked it that way.

  Looking at herself in the cracked mirror over the bureau, she wished she had a new dress to wear for him, but her mother had never returned that green dress. She'd never get it now.

  Taking a hairpin from her dresser drawer, she went to work on the lock.

  A half hour later, she was tiptoeing out of the house.

  Jassy almost ran to the jail, so eager was she to see Creed again.

  The sheriff gave her a knowing look as he unlocked the cellblock door. He thought she was Creed's lover. The thought made Jassy's cheeks burn with shame that he would think of her in that way, and with humiliation because she wished it were true.

  Moments later, she was standing before Creed's cell and everything else faded from her mind.

  He stared at her for a long moment, his dark eyes filled with quiet rage, his hands fisted at his sides.

  ''It wasn't my fault," she said quickly, wishing he wouldn't look at her as if she'd betrayed him. "I wanted to come."

  He didn't say anything, only continued to stare at her as if he hated her.

  "Rose forged my name to that paper. She tried to make me do it. She even threatened to sell me to one of her customers if I refused, but I still wouldn't do it, so she signed my name. You've got to believe me, Creed. It's the truth."

  "Why didn't you come to the trial?"

  "I couldn't. Rose kept me tied up in my room until it was over."

  "She tied you up so you couldn't testify?" he asked, his tone incredulous.

  Jassy nodded, embarrassed to admit that her sister would do such a despicable thing.

  "She tell you why?"

  "She said something about doing it for Coulter, about Coulter wanting revenge. I'm sorry, Creed."

  Jassy slipped her arms through the bars, wanting to touch him, but he was just out of reach.

  Creed swore under his breath. He knew damn well why Rose wanted him out of the way, and it had nothing to do with his being a half-breed, or with Ray Coulter, either. But he couldn't tell Jassy the truth. Not now. She would have to live with Rose long after he was gone.

  "I would have been there, Creed. You've got to believe me."

  "I believe you," he said, feeling his anger toward Jassy wash out of him as he closed the distance between them.

  Reaching through the bars, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her as close as possible. Lord, she was sweet.

  His touch redeemed her, banishing her fears and the awful sense of emptiness caused by his anger.

  "I'll go see the judge, Creed. I'll tell him everything."

  "It's too late, Jassy. He left town after the trial."

  "Then I'll tell the sheriff."

  Creed nodded, though he doubted it would do any good. Still, if Jassy could plant a seed of doubt in Harrington's mind, the sheriff might keep him in jail until the circuit judge rode through again. Maybe they'd retry him. And maybe hell would freeze over.

  He knew, deep in his gut, that Harrington would just laugh in Jassy's face, especially after Rose's damning testimony. No matter what Jassy said, Harrington would think it was just a last, desperate effort to keep her lover out of prison. But it was worth a chance. Hell, it was the only chance he had.

  "Creed?"

  He gazed into her eyes and felt his heart quicken at what he saw there.

  Slowly, he bent his head and kissed her, damning the bars that separated them. He wanted to bury himself within her, surround himself with her goodness, her sweetness. Maybe, if Jassy had come into his life sooner, he wouldn't be in such a mess now. And maybe he belonged in prison for wanting her the way he did, he mused with a wry grin. Heaven help him, he knew it had to be a crime for a man of his age and experience to desire a girl as young and innocent as Jassy. At least if they locked him up, she'd be safefrom him anyway.

  He kissed her harder, his lips bruising hers, as he thought of other men touching her.

  He remembered the night on the porch when Rose had callously offered to sell him Jassy's virginity, if the price was right, remarking that it would be his only chance to bed her while she was still untouched, because pretty soon she would be available to anyone who could buy her time. The thought twisted through his gut like a hot brand.

  "Jassy." He dragged his mouth from hers and cupped her face in his hands. "Listen to me. Go to my room in the hotel. I've got better than four thousand dollars in my saddlebags. I want you to have it."

  Jassy blinked up at him. Four thousand dollars! That was all the money in the world.

  "Won't they have rented your room to someone else by now?"

  Creed shook his head. I did George Walk
er a favor a while back with the understanding that he'd have a room for me as long as I wanted it."

  Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a key and pressed it into Jassy's hand, folding her fingers over it one by one.

  "You take that money and get the hell out of this town before it's too late. Go someplace where no one knows you, start a new life for yourself."

  "No, I won't leave you."

  "You won't be leaving me. If the sheriff won't listen to your story, I'll be on my way to Canon City at the end of the week. You take that money and get out of here before your sister has you hustling drinks at the Lazy Ace. Promise me, Jassy. I don't want to think of you ending up like Rose."

  "Hell believe me, Creed. He has to."

  "I hope so, honey. But if he doesn't, you do like I said."

  Jassy nodded, unable to speak past the lump rising in her throat. Tears burned her eyes and she clung to him, feeling that everything would be all right so long as she didn't let him go.

  She closed her eyes as she felt his hand moving in her hair, his fingers gently caressing her nape. He bent to press a kiss to the top of her head, and the warmth of his lips went clear to her toes. She loved him. She didn't care that he was a bounty hunter and a hired gun. It didn't matter that he was older than she was, or that she knew almost nothing about him. She loved him.

  She drew back a little, wanting to tell him so, but before she had a chance, the door to the cellblock swung open.

  "Time's up," Harrington called.

  "I'll tell him right now," Jassy promised. She slid the key into her skirt pocket; then, standing on tiptoe, she kissed him, hoping he could hear the words in her heart.

  Creed watched her walk down the narrow aisle, and then Harrington closed the door between the cellblock and the sheriffs office, leaving him alone in the gloomy cell.

  "It was self-defense," Jassy said. She placed her hands on the desktop and leaned toward Harrington, who sat in the chair behind the desk, his expression skeptical. "It was! I saw the whole thing. Harry called Creed out, and Creed shot him."

  "That's not what your statement said."

  "I never signed any statement. My sister forged my name."

  Harrington sighed wearily. "Go home, girl."

  "It's the truth! Get my sister in here and make her tell you what really happened."

  "I'll tell you what I think happened. I think you've been whoring for that gunfighter, and you just now realized you're about to lose your meal ticket."

  "That's not true!"

  "Isn't it? I'm not blind. I've seen how he looks at you." Harrington snickered. "And how you look at him. Well, you'll have to find yourself a new sugar man come Friday."

  Jassy bit back the angry words that rose in her throat. "Please, Sheriff Harrington, you must believe me. It was self-defense. I'll swear to it here. I'll swear to it in court."

  "You had a chance to do that this morning."

  "I . . . I couldn't."

  "Couldn't? Something more important come up?"

  "Rose wouldn't let me."

  "Wouldn't let you?" Harrington looked skeptical. "What'd she do, tie you up?"

  Jassy nodded, sickened by the memory of how Rose had wrestled her to the bed, then straddled her to hold her down while she tied her hands to the bedpost. It had been frightening, humiliating.

  Harrington looked temporarily taken aback; then he snorted. Tied her up, indeed! No doubt the little chit would say anything if she thought it would get Maddigan out of jail.

  He rustled the papers stacked on the comer of his desk. "You're wasting my time, Jassy. Go on home. I've got work to do."

  Tears of frustration filled Jassy's eyes. Creed had been right. Harrington didn't believe her. "Can I see him again before I go?"

  "Twenty minutes a day. You know the rules."

  "Please."

  "Dammit, girl, go home!"

  She stared at him a moment more and then, afraid to make him angry for fear he wouldn't let her see Creed the next day, she headed for the door, her steps heavy with despair.

  In three days, he'd be gone, and she'd never see him again.

  Chapter Ten

  "Tumbleweed wagon's here."

  Creed grimaced as Harrington entered the cellblock, followed by his deputy, Jace Rutledge.

  "Stand away from the door, Maddigan," Harrington ordered as he slipped the key into the lock.

  Creed's gaze washed over Rutledge in a long, assessing glance. The kid was young and eager. Judging from the look in Rutledge's wide-set brown eyes, Creed knew the deputy was hoping he'd make a break for it or jump Harrington, anything to give Rutledge an excuse to pull the trigger.

  Heaven save him from young men with guns. He stepped away from the cell door.

  "Turn around," Harrington said brusquely. "Put your hands behind your back. And don't try anything stupid."

  Creed did as he was told, the place between his shoulder blades itching furiously. He could feel Rutledge's gun trained on his back and knew the deputy's finger was caressing the trigger, hoping, waiting for Creed to make one wrong move. Jace Rutledge wanted a reputation of his own, and taking down a known gunman would give him a start.

  Creed flinched as the cuffs were locked in place, knowing he had just given up any chance he'd had of escaping.

  "Let's go."

  Harrington led the way out of the cellblock, his hand hovering over the butt of his gun. Rutledge brought up the rear.

  Outside, Creed blinked against the sunlight. As his eyes adjusted to the glare, he saw Jassy standing across the street, her cheeks wet with silent tears. She was wearing a green dress, although it wasn't the same one he had bought her, and the boots he had picked out for her. Creed smiled a little, knowing she had picked that particular dress because of the color.

  Jassy. She had come to the jail every day. Like a single bright ray of hope, she had come to him, smiling bravely. Each kiss had been sweeter than the last, and he had wished that his life had been different, that he had met her in another time and place.

  She had cried when she told him that Harrington had refused to believe her, but Creed hadn't expected anything else. No one was going to take the word of a seventeen-year-old girlor of a gunfighter with a bad reputation.

  "Move it, Maddigan," the sheriff said, prodding him in the back with the barrel of his Colt. "Wagon's ready to roll."

  "Give me a minute. I want to tell Jassy goodbye."

  Harrington snorted. "Why? You ain't never gonna see her again."

  "That's why," Creed snapped.

  "All right, but make it quick."

  I don't suppose you'd take these cuffs off for a couple of minutes?"

  "Not a chance."

  "Dammit, Harrington"

  "You're wasting time, Maddigan."

  Muttering an oath, Creed started to cross the street but Jassy was already running toward him. She threw her arms around him, hugging him close.

  "Oh, Creed, it's so unfair!"

  "Nobody ever said life was fair, honey."

  She pressed herself against him, not caring that Harrington and Rutledge and half the town seemed to be staring at them. What did that matter now? She wished Crced's hands were free so he could hold her one last time. She felt a fresh wave of tears well in her eyes as his lips moved in her hair.

  ''You look real pretty," he murmured, wishing he could run his fingers through her hair just once more, feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips, taste the innocent sweetness of her kisses.

  "Thank you." She didn't tell him she had bought the dress with money she had taken from under Rose's mattress. "I'll write you every day," she promised.

  "And send me cookies?" He tried to keep his voice light, but the thought of never seeing her again, of spending the next twenty years caged up, made anything resembling humor impossible.

  She looked up at him, her gaze moving over his face, memorizing every detail. His hair was long and thick and black, his skin the color of smooth copper, his jaw strong an
d square. His eyes were as deep and black as a pool of liquid ebony, framed by thick black lashes and straight black brows. And his mouth . . . She had learned to love his mouth, the shape of it, the texture of his lips, the slick velvety warmth of his tongue that tasted faintly of tobacco and whiskey.

  Creed was doing the same, imprinting her image on his mind to hold as a talisman against the empty years ahead. The sunlight danced in her hair, threading the red with gold. Her eyes were as brown and warm as a handful of sunwarmed earth. He loved the way her nose tilted up just a little at the end, the soft curve of her cheek, the pouty fullness of her lips . . . ah, those lips that made him ache with desire even now.

  "You take that money, Jassy," he said, his voice suddenly husky. "Take it and get away from here."

  "No. I'll wait for you, no matter how long it takes."

  Creed shook his head. "No, Jassy. I don't want anybody waiting for me. You've got your whole life ahead of you. You take that money and get out of this town. You forget what happened here. Forget about me. Make a new life for yourself. Promise me."

  I can't. This is all my fault. If only I'd been there"

  "You'd have been there if you could, honey. I know that. Don't waste your life like I wasted mine. You find yourself a decent man and have that family you want." He gazed deep into her eyes. "Promise me, Jassy. Please."

  She nodded, unable to speak the words, her heart breaking because he was facing a long prison sentence and he was still worried about her. How could she help loving him? He was the only one who had ever cared whether she lived or died.

  Creed closed his eyes, his chin resting lightly on the top of Jassy's head. Her arms were tight around his waist, her breasts crushed against his chest. Twenty years. He'd be an old man when he got out. And she'd be all grown up, married, with a passel of kids. As much as it hurt to think of her with another man, he knew it was the life she wanted, the kind of life she deserved. The kind of life he could never give her.

  "You about done there?" Harrington asked impatiently.

  "Keep your shirt on, lawman," Creed muttered.

  "I'll miss you," Jassy whispered. Standing on tiptoe, she pressed her lips to his, and he tasted the salt of her tears. "I'll pray for you every day."