Jessie's War (Civil War Steam) (36 page)

“Here?”

He laughed. “Oh, honey,
everywhere. Denver, Chicago, Virginia City, New York. You’ll find sympathizers
everywhere you go. Why not here?”

Jessie didn’t respond.
Instead, she stared at the house for a long time before moving on. “Who sent
you? Luke or Elizabeth?”

Jameson fell into step beside
her. He kept his eyes straight ahead of him, and so did she. “Bradshaw, though
I suspect my wife would have if he hadn’t asked. You planning on going back?”

“Eventually. I needed some time
to think.” A gust of wind lifted her hair, the breeze whispering in her ear,
and a shiver passed over her that had nothing to do with the cold.

“Don’t think too long. You
should get back.”

They walked in silence for a
time. The homes began to give way high-end shops and businesses. Jessie studied
a gown in a shopkeeper’s window, expensive and opulent, and looked down at her
borrowed skirt. She felt Jameson’s eyes on her, but she resisted turning.

“You’ve got to pack up to go
get your father. And Bradshaw’s waiting on you.”

Jessie rubbed vaguely at the
pain in her chest and turned surprised eyes to him. “You’re letting me go?”

The slow nod he gave her was
not quite an affirmative, and he was quiet for several seconds. “I don’t think
it’s a good idea, but I don’t think we have many options open to us.”

“What about Luke?”

Jameson’s laugh had a hollow
ring. “I don’t think he’ll be content to stay here while his woman goes off
gallivanting with me, Jonah, and Parker. He did the research, he asked for the
assignment, and he paid for it with his leg, so I won’t take him off the case.
If you have a problem with Bradshaw running the show, too damn bad. You’ll have
to get over it.”

Jessie closed her eyes and
swallowed the knot of emotion in her throat. “He lost his leg because of me?”

“No, he lost his leg because
of
me
. He agreed to have it replaced
with a mechanized one because of
you
.
So he could be out in the field sooner. Too soon, if you ask me.”

Her heart jumped, and she
fought back tears. He cared. He’d cared before he’d known she would accept him
back.

I
hope it was worth it
,
she’d said.

It
was,
he’d told her.

An ache settled in her chest,
and rather than focusing on that pain—or on Luke—she asked, “Is Mr.
Parker going, too?”

“Yeah,” Jameson said, as if
he couldn’t understand why she would question him. His dark eyes searched hers,
and he seemed satisfied by whatever he saw in her expression. “Someone needs to
keep sight of the end goal. Usually that task falls to Luke, but since he’s
invested, Parker’s the best one for the job.”

“So he’s the one who will
keep my father out of enemy hands.”

Jameson lifted a single
shoulder. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, shall we?”

She didn’t know what she
searched for in his eyes, but they yielded nothing. “What about me?”

“What about you?” He watched
a couple pass them. “Bradshaw won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll protect
you, and so will Parker.”

Jessie huffed a bitter laugh.

Jameson shook his head. “Parker’s
just watching out for Bradshaw. For the team.”

“You’re saying he thinks I’m
going to hurt Luke?”

“He’s just concerned about
what’s going to happen with the team now that you’re here. Quite frankly, so am
I.”

“I’m no threat to you.”

“I believe you don’t mean to
be.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I wonder, though, what will
Bradshaw do for you? Parker’s not wrong to say Bradshaw’s compromised. I
suspected it when he woke up spitting mad you weren’t with him. That was one of
the reasons we kept you separated for as long as we did—to give him time
to regain perspective. But he didn’t, and having seen you with him, I know he’s
not objective. Parker’s not wrong to want you as far away from Bradshaw as
possible. He knows what happens when one of us gets blinded.”

Jameson regarded her for a
long time. “If you knew what Bradshaw went through for this job, you’d see why
Parker doesn’t want him to go. You’d understand what he did for you. I didn’t
even understand it at first, because Bradshaw has always put the mission first.
I thought maybe it was out of a sense of loyalty to your family, but I figured
he could do his job despite that. He wouldn’t want your father to suffer if we
couldn’t get him out. But it’s not about your father, is it? It’s about you.”

Jessie’s thought of
everything Luke had sacrificed and lost. Things he hadn’t been willing to speak
of.

If she’d known, she would
have wept.

“Would you tell me what
happened?”

Jameson blew a lazy smoke
ring, but his expression was pained. “I never thought I’d value something more
than the job, but when Lizzie came along, I did. I almost got every man on my
team killed. So Parker doesn’t hate you, but he knows you’re dangerous. To this
mission and to your man in particular.”

“He wants me gone.”

“Altogether? No. But away
from Luke, and this particular mission? Yeah.”

“And you?”

“You’re an asset we need, and
we don’t have anyone else.” Jameson frowned. “I’d send someone else if I could.
I’d take Bradshaw off the job and insist someone go in his place, but he’d
follow after you. Might as well let him be in on it, since he’s going anyway.”

They stood on the wooden
boardwalk under the eaves and regarded one another for several seconds, the
scent of a nearby bakery wafting over them, when Jameson’s head snapped up.

His face was taut. For a
split second, time stood still as they stared at one another.

Jameson exploded into motion,
pushing Jessie into the nearby bakery, and the shopkeeper let out a surprised,
wordless protest. “Go, go, go!” He shoved her back toward the kitchen.

Jessie didn’t ask what was
happening. She didn’t have to.

She’d been found.

He hustled her through the
kitchen, past the startled baker and his assistant, and out the back. Tucking
his black duster back behind his holsters, he exposed the ivory grips of his
pistols. He yanked her through the crowded streets, shoving people aside.

Run,
Jessie
, the voice in her
head said.

She didn’t.

Jameson’s face tightened. He
barely moved his head, but she somehow knew he was aware of his surroundings
and noticed everything. “You’re going to have to run for it,” he said.

Dread clawed its way up her
spine and lingered there. “Where?”

“Two blocks up. There’s a
restaurant, The Desert Belle. Tell the man at the front you’re Luke’s woman and
you need help. They’ll get you out and back to the safe house.” He scanned the
crowd. “Don’t turn around. I’ll cover you for as long as I can.”

He never said he’d come with
her. He never said they’d go back together. “Mr. Jameson?”

“Go. Tell Luke I’m returning
the favor. When I tell you, you run. Don’t look back. Don’t stop.
Run.
”

Jameson suddenly spun and
drew his weapons. Fired into the crowd.

“Go!”

Screams filled the air as
gunshots rang out. Not just Jameson’s, either. Guilt twisted when she heard
Jameson’s enraged bellowing.

She looked over her shoulder
only to see Jameson go down in a hail of bullets. She wished she hadn’t,
because then she wouldn’t have to face the awful truth of what she’d done.

The Desert Belle
came
into view, and she burst through the door. Bright light sprayed the dimly
lit room. She almost crashed into the host’s podium as her eyes adjusted to the
low light.

She leaned heavily on the
podium. “Mordecai Jameson sent me. I’m… Luke Bradshaw’s.”

The man’s expression changed
immediately. Set and hard, he came around the podium, grasped her elbow
tightly, and hauled her toward the back rooms. As they made their way past the
tables and the bar, the host snapped his fingers at a boy clearing tables.

The host reached into his
pocket, took out a card, and handed it to the kid. “Go to this address. Tell
them we’ve got…” he paused and waited.

“Jessie White—er,
Bradshaw.”

“Mrs. Bradshaw,” he finished.

“Yessir,” the kid said, and
took off running out the door.

The man led her to a small
room in the back. It had a cot, a petroleum lantern and little else. He lit the
lamp. “You stay here. Don’t go anywhere. They’ll come for you.”

Before she had the chance to
thank him, he handed her the lantern and slammed the door shut behind him.

She sat down on the little
cot and buried her face in her hands. Trembling violently, she thought about how
everything had gone so terribly wrong so quickly, and all because she had made
the decision to leave the Jameson house. This was her fault.

She wanted to fold herself in
Luke’s arms and find the peace she always experienced whenever he held her,
something she found in his embrace and nowhere else. When he held her, she was
a just woman and he was just a man, and the bitterness and the fear that
constantly raged beneath her skin was quiet. She became more than simply a
vessel for all that anger.

Those times were as close to
heaven as she’d ever get, and always over far too soon. Even if such a feeling
lasted lifetimes, the time she’d had still wouldn’t be long enough.

Too exhausted to cry, she
wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the whitewashed walls until her
mind went blank and her body went numb.

She couldn’t have stayed like
that for very long before she heard a popping like some pale imitation of
fireworks and startled, muffled shouts. Standing on shaking legs, she pressed
her hands to the door. Heard another pop and a dull thud.

Her hands trembled as she
placed them on the knob. She met with some resistance as she tried to push open
the door, and she put her shoulder into it, shoving back whatever barred the
door. Fingers came into view, then a hand, and her pulse crashed in her ears, her
blood rushing in her veins. She reeled backwards, away from whatever was
outside her room.

The body was dragged away and
the door flung open.

In front of her stood a man
in a black suit with a black string tie. He had a close-cropped, dark beard on
his cheeks, and a long, thick-barreled pistol pointed in her direction.

He regarded her for a moment,
his dark eyes intense and interested. The smile he gave her didn’t quite reach
his eyes as he placed his weapon inside his jacket.

He held out his hand to her. “Jessica
White, I’m Beauregard Fontaine. You have no idea how hard you are to find.”

She recognized the voice, if
not the man.

Standing in front of her was
the man who’d killed Hiram.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

Jessie stared at the hand
Fontaine extended in her direction and said nothing. After a moment, he lowered
his hand.

She remained silent.

“Trust me, Miss White.”

Jessie raised her eyes to
his, but held her tongue.

After a time, his flinty eyes
narrowed. “Let’s get you out of here.”

She backed up a step. “You’re
a Confederate. In a Union territory.”

“Yes, ma’am, I certainly am,”
he said in a drawl that hadn’t been there a moment before. “As for my being
here, you and I both know Deseret is about as Union as Mexico. I’m within my
rights to be here. You’re Paiute. You’re trespassing as much as I am.”

“You’re a Confederate,” she
repeated.

“You say that like it’s a bad
thing.” Fontaine stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. “We’re not
after anything your own people aren’t after. You Indians forged your treaties
with the Union for your own independent nations. That’s all we’re looking
for—an independent nation and the ability to control our own destinies.
Quite like our forefathers. We’re not so different from you. Your struggles are
our struggles.”

“You killed my brother.”

“War is often brutal, and I,
personally, had nothing to do with that. I understand your pain. I, too, have
lost a brother.” He extended his hand. “Come, Miss White. Let’s get you to your
father.”

Jessie stepped away and found
her back pressed against the wall of her little prison. “You abducted him.”

“No, Miss White, we’ve
liberated him.”

“Then where is he? Why isn’t
he here?” she demanded. “Why didn’t he come home?”

“He’s working on a project.
He sent me to get you, but we’ve been unable to find you. The man you were with
is dangerous—a murderer and a hostage-taker. A thief. Good thing I came
along with I did. He’d have killed you if he had the chance.”