Joline's Redemption (3 page)

Though Mark had returned to his wife, he and Abigail had never been truly happy together. Mark quickly lost patience with Abigail, saying all she cared about was owning the latest fashion in gowns and jewelry, and she had confided in Baron that she wished she'd married him instead of Mark. Baron shook his head. Women couldn't seem to look past his brother's handsome features and charming personality to see the shallowness of his character. As a Christian, Baron believed character was important, and he always tried to keep his word and treat people with respect. If only his brother did the same, but Mark was cut from a different cloth.

He snatched a feather duster off a hook in the storeroom and attacked the shelves. He and his brother closely resembled one another in looks, but there was no doubt Mark's features were more comely. Baron didn't care, but he despised how his brother used his good looks to charm women and how they all fell under his spell. He'd love to meet one woman who hadn't been taken in by Mark's magnetism. Why couldn't they recognize a snake when they saw one?

Dust clouded the air. Baron coughed and waved his hand. He'd been so lost in thought he forgot to open the windows. Stomping across the room, he unlocked a window and lifted it up, allowing in the cool spring breeze. He did the same with the next one, but what he really needed was to get the back door open and create a cross breeze.

He unlocked the door and gave it a shove. Maybe he could jar the boards loose from the inside. After several hard shoulder shoves, the door moved.

“Hey,” the marshal hollered from the outside of the door, “I thought I was going to clear the boards.”

Baron chuckled. “The dust was getting to me, so I thought I'd try to break through from this side. I did loosen the boards, but my shoulder is telling me to stop.”

A few creaks later, the marshal pulled down the last board and opened the door. A refreshing breeze blew through, cooling Baron.

“Thanks for taking care of that, Bob. Guess I'll return to my dusting.” He needed to get the store cleaned and up and running again; then he could place a for-sale ad in some area newspapers.

The sooner he finished things here, the sooner he could go home.

Jo held her breath as she hugged Jamie against her chest and descended the stairs. Moonlight filtered in through the windows, illuminating her way. She'd chosen the wee hours of the morning to make her escape because everyone had finally gone to bed. Even Badger should be asleep by now.

It was now or never.

She avoided the boards she knew would squeak and hoped that all the jostling wouldn't awaken her son. He'd be fussy if he did awaken and would probably cry.

Her heart pounded. Her breath was so ragged she thought certainly someone would hear. She had to make it past Stoney's room near the back door. She didn't dare go out the front, because Badger was sure to notice. If Stoney woke up, she hoped he would assume it was one of the ladies on a trek to the outhouse.

She quietly opened the back door and tiptoed down the stairs and toward the shed where the rented buggy still sat. If she could get the horse hitched, they could easily make their getaway.

A thought dashed through her mind, and she made a quick turnabout. If Stoney was listening, he would expect to hear the outhouse door. Jo tugged it open, gritting her teeth at the creak.

A sharp squeal from inside nearly caused her to drop Jamie. Fearing she was caught, she peered in. The moonlight illuminated Sarah, already dressed for the day, staring back at her, wide eyed.

Jo's mind raced. Would the girl cry out when she learned what Jo was up to?

Sarah's gaze dropped to Jamie. “Why you bring boy to privy?”

When Jo didn't answer, the girl's dark eyes widened further. “You are leaving.”

Jo nodded. “I can't give up my son.”

Sarah stared at her. “You should not have to. Badger is wrong to tell you to.”

Hope surged through Jo. “You understand?”

The girl nodded. “A child should not be separated from her mother.”

Jo didn't miss the fact that Sarah said
her.
“Come with me. I was hoping to take you away from this place, too, but I was afraid to tell anyone about my plan. You don't belong here.”

The girl shook her head. “I can't.”

“There's no future here. You know where you'll end up if you stay.”

“Badger would not—”

“He would.” Jo stepped closer. “He doesn't care about any of us. All he wants is money. I don't want you to endure what I've had to. Come with us, Sarah. We'll be our own family.”

“You would let me stay with you?”

Jo nodded. “Of course. You're like a little sister to me.”

Nibbling her lower lip, Sarah glanced at the house. Her expression suddenly hardened, and Jo thought for certain the girl would sound an alarm. But Sarah turned her gaze on her for a long moment as if taking her measure, and then she nodded.

Once again hope warmed Jo's chest. “Then c'mon. Let's go before we get caught.” She headed for the barn, silencing the crickets and night creatures. “You can hold Jamie while I hitch the horse to the buggy.”

Jo reached for the barn door, but Sarah grabbed her arm.

“We should go in the back.”

Jo nodded then followed the girl. She'd been to the barn so few times she hadn't even known there was a rear entrance. The door rattled a bit as Sarah opened it, making Jo grit her teeth. She stayed there, holding it ajar to allow moonlight inside. The horse nickered softly, as if complaining it was too early for a drive. Jo tapped her fingers on the wooden frame, watching the house. If she leaned slightly, she could just make out the edge of the back door.
C'mon, Sarah. Hurry.

From inside the barn, she could hear the jangle of horse tack and movement. The seconds ticked by like hours. Jamie's steady breaths warmed her face. Jo glanced heavenward. She loved her son enough to do about anything—and that included praying. “God,” she whispered. “If You're up there, please help us get away. I can't give up my son. I promise—I'll even go to church if You'll help us escape.”

A noise from inside the barn drew her attention. Sarah appeared, leading the same horse that had pulled the buggy yesterday, but this time the horse was saddled. Was Sarah planning on riding off without her?

“Why the saddle?” Jo moved in front of the horse to block him.

“Buggy too slow. We move faster if we ride.”

“How can we ride with Jamie?”

Sarah held up a canvas bag and some rope. “I fix.” She held out the reins to Jo, and she took them. Then Sarah lifted Jamie from her arms and laid him on the ground. She made quick work of sliding Jamie, quilt and all, into the burlap, leaving only his face showing, and then she hoisted him up. “You hold boy.”

Jo held her son to her chest, and Sarah moved behind her and tied Jamie to her, leaving both of Jo's arms free to guide the horse. The concept was rather ingenious.

Sarah helped Jo balance atop the chopping block and held the horse's reins while she clumsily mounted. She knew how to ride, but mounting with a heavy one-year-old attached wasn't easy. Sarah, holding Jo's pillowcase that contained Jamie's diapers and clothing, stepped up on the block and lithely swung up behind her. A lantern flickered to life in Garnet's room in the closest corner of the house.

“We go.” The girl kicked the horse.

Jo barely had time to get situated and gather the reins before the surprised animal broke into a trot. She turned him away from town, and as she did, the back door of the house opened.

Her heart jolted.

For the second time that night, she prayed.
Let whoever it is think we're someone from town. Or better yet, please don't let them hear us.

Jo guided the horse to the north, keeping the house between them and the person out back. Sarah held on to Jo's waist. She wanted to gallop but feared the horse might stumble. The animal was their lifeline. Without him, they were doomed.

When no one cried out, she allowed herself to relax. The money she'd managed to steal from Badger by manipulating the income records weighed heavy in the hem of her skirt. There wasn't a lot, just enough for food for a few days, but it was something.

Where should they go? Badger knew people in many of the nearby towns. People who would gladly tell him if they saw her because they knew they'd get a reward.

There was really only one place she could go, and it was the last place she wanted to go—her sister's home.

But Guthrie wasn't all that far from Oklahoma City. Would Badger find them there? Or would he expect them to ride straight to the depot, catch the train, and go far away? If only they could. At least Gabe and Lara lived a ways out of town. But dare she go there?

She'd treated her family despicably, especially her older sister. But Lara would forgive her. It wasn't her nature to hold a grudge.

She wasn't so sure about Gabe. He would want to protect his wife from more hurt and might chase her away at gunpoint, because she'd certainly broken her sister's heart with her childish behavior and cruel treatment. To think, she wouldn't even stand up with Lara at her wedding.

She shook her head. If only she'd known then what she knew now.

Gabe wouldn't send her away, not once he saw Jamie—and Sarah. She felt certain he would let them stay.

And if she went home, she could see her nephew, Michael, and Grandpa again—if Grandpa was still alive.

She rounded the corner of the last house before they hit open prairie. She allowed herself to relax a smidgeon. Suddenly, a privy door banged open. The horse jerked, shying sideways and nearly unseating her. Sarah's grip tightened on Jo's waist, and she felt the girl regain her seat.

A disheveled man stumbled from the privy, gawking at them. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth, eyes brightening. He staggered toward her. “Well now, what have we here?”

Jo sucked in a breath. She recognized the man from the bordello.

He stumbled and reached for the reins, missing and falling against Jo's leg. She tightened the reins and turned the horse in a sharp circle. The man, obviously still drunk, grabbed for her skirts, but he slid away and fell to the ground. She turned the horse away from town. “Hold on tight,” she said, kicking the horse into a trot and then a gallop.

Had the man recognized her? Would he run to Badger and tell him he'd seen them? A bead of sweat trickled down her temple in spite of the cool temperatures.

The sky had already started to lighten, turning a brilliant hue of magenta. Soon the sun would chase away the remaining darkness. No one at the bordello, other than Sarah, normally stirred before noon. But Garnet had awakened. Still, she would have no reason to check Jo's room. By the time anyone noticed they were missing, they should have a good head start—unless the drunk awakened Badger and reported seeing her. She glanced over her shoulder, relieved to see he was still lying on the ground. Maybe he would fall asleep and think he'd only dreamed about her.

Unless disturbed, Badger shouldn't awaken until late afternoon. He had been drinking more than usual last night. He came to her room several times, and each time, she'd been holding or playing with Jamie. In spite of being a gruff, heartless man, he liked her son, but he had ordered Jamie sent away. Although, to be honest, he'd allowed her to keep him far longer than she'd expected.

Still, she didn't owe Badger anything. He'd made promises just like Mark, but he, too, had lied.

She wouldn't believe there were good men in this world if not for her grandfather. She barely remembered her father, but what memories she did have were good ones. And then there was Gabe. He had been a gambler, but he'd won her sister's heart—and that was no simple task.

Jo shook her head. She never wanted another man to touch her. But Jamie deserved a father. She tightened her knees, urging the slowing horse to move faster. Finding Jamie a father wasn't a topic she wanted to contemplate now.

First, she had to get him to safety.

And to do that, she had to go home.

M
oaning, Badger grabbed his throbbing head and rolled onto his side. He enjoyed drinking as much as any man, but he hated how he felt afterward—hated losing control of his mind and body. The guilt at separating Sapphire and her son was eating at him. She adored that boy, as did all of his ladies, but he'd already indulged her far too long. She would hate him for what he'd done, but he was used to women despising him.

Someone pounded on his door.

“Go away,” he yelled, clutching his head.

The door creaked open. Badger flipped over and reached for the gun on his nightstand. With a shaking hand, he aimed it at the door. His eyes focused on Stoney, and he lowered the gun. “What do you want? Can't a man get his rest?”

“Sapphire's gone.”

“Gone?” Badger bolted to his feet, reaching out to steady himself on the nightstand. His eyes blurred then slowly refocused. “Did you check out back?”