“I came to see your father—,” Kane began but Marc never gave him a chance to finish.
“Murderer!” Marc screeched and started up the stairs in one leap.
“Wait a minute!” Kane shouted, but no one paid him the least attention as the three other men jumped him also. All five men went rolling down the stairs and Kane thought that since he was the only one who was sober, he would probably be the only one who was hurt. In spite of the fact that it was four against one, Kane was winning the fight.
But then one of the women slammed Kane over the head with a heavy brass statue of David preparing to slay the giant.
The four men unsteadily got to their feet and looked down at the unconscious form of Kane.
“What do we do now?” one of the women whispered.
“Hang ’im!” Marc shouted, starting to pick up Kane, but when he made no progress, and none of the others offered to help, he looked up, pleading, “He killed my father.”
“There ain’t enough whiskey in the world to get me drunk enough to hang a man as rich as he is,” one of the men said. “While he’s out, let’s take him to the jail. Let the sheriff deal with him.”
There was some argument from Marc, but he was too drunk to put up a great deal of fight, and so the four of them struggled to heave Kane’s big body into the back of a buckboard that had been left standing outside the house. Not one of them seemed to give the body of Jacob another thought as they left him on the floor, the doors of the house wide open.
* * *
“Here, drink this,” Edan was saying as he held Kane’s head.
With a groan, Kane tried to sit up, but the pain in his head made him lean back against the cold stone wall. “What happened?” He looked up to see Edan, Leander and the sheriff hovering over him.
“It was all a mistake,” Lee said. “I told the sheriff about the paper and why you went to Fenton’s.”
“He was dead?” Kane asked. “He looked like it from where I stood.” Kane’s head came up sharply, causing him more pain. “The last thing I remember is Marc Fenton and some drunks pullin’ me down the stairs.”
Edan sat down on the cot where Kane was stretched out. To his right were the bars of the jail. “As far as we can tell, the servants found Jacob Fenton dead about three minutes before you walked into the house. For some reason, they all decided to go get help and so left the body alone and the house open. Then Marc and his friends came in from an all-night spree and saw you standing at the top of the stairs and thought you’d pushed him down. You’re lucky, because Marc wanted to hang you from the front porch.”
Kane rubbed the knot on the back of his head. “Hangin’ couldn’t hurt more than this does.”
“You’re free to go, Mr. Taggert,” the sheriff said. “And I suggest that you get out of here before your wife finds out. Women take on so when their husbands are put in jail.”
“Not Houston,” Kane said. “She’s a lady to the core. She’d be calm if they hanged me.” Even as he said the words, a new thought came to him. How would Houston react if she thought he were a murderer? Hadn’t he heard one time that all the property of murderers was confiscated by the state? Or was it that a person couldn’t inherit from a person he’d killed?
“How many people know about this?” Kane asked. “The Fenton servants can testify that I’m innocent, but has that fact spread around town yet?”
“I called Lee the minute I saw young Fenton push you out of the wagon,” the sheriff said, puzzled.
“Everyone is too concerned with the mine explosion to care much who gets thrown in jail,” Leander said. “All the reporters are at the Little Pamela trying to figure out new ways to describe the bodies,” he added with a grimace.
“What are you planning?” Edan asked, his eyes narrowed.
Kane was silent a moment. “Sheriff, you mind if I stay in here overnight? I’d like to play a little practical joke on my wife.”
“Joke?” the sheriff asked. “Women don’t usually appreciate a joke, no matter how good it is.”
Kane looked up at Lee and Edan. “Can I count on you two keepin’ quiet for twenty-four hours?”
Edan stood and, at the look on Lee’s face, he said, “My guess is that he wants to see if Houston will stand by him if he tells her that he’ll probably be convicted as a murderer. Am I right?”
Kane started studying the dust in a far corner of the room. “Somethin’ like that.”
Both Lee and the sheriff snorted.
“I ain’t interferin’ in love,” the sheriff said. “Mr. Taggert, if you wanta set up residence in this jail, be my guest, but the city of Chandler is gonna bill you as if this were the finest hotel in San Francisco.”
“Fair enough,” Kane answered. “Lee? Edan?”
Leander merely shrugged. “It’s up to you. I’ve known Houston for most of my life, and I never knew anything at all about her.”
Edan looked at Kane for a long moment. “When Houston passes this test—and she will—will you give up your obsession of doubting her so we can get back to work? Vanderbilt has probably bought the eastern seaboard by now.”
Kane drew his breath in sharply. “Well, he can sell it back to us starting tomorrow, as soon as I get out of this place,” he said with a grin.
When the men were gone, Kane lay down on the cot and went to sleep.
* * *
Houston had a three-month-old baby in her lap, trying to get the child to sleep, and a two-year-old and a four-year-old in a bed beside her. They were some of the many children who’d lost their fathers in the last few days. Their mother was beside herself trying to figure out how she was going to support herself and her small children in the years to come. Houston and Blair and other members of The Sisterhood had been campaigning to get the local merchants to try to find jobs for the women, and Houston was one of the volunteers to help in an impromptu child-care center—something new that Blair had seen in Pennsylvania.
When the sheriff’s deputy came to the little house and asked for her, she had no idea what he wanted.
“Your husband has been arrested for the murder of Jacob Fenton,” the young man said.
It took Houston a moment to react, and her first thought was that Kane’s temper had at last gotten the better of him. “When?” she managed to whisper.
“Sometime this mornin’. I wasn’t there so I don’t know much about it, but ever’body in town knows that he threatened ol’ man Fenton’s life, not that anybody blames him, ’cause we all know that Fenton’s guilty as sin, but it ain’t gonna help Taggert none. They hang you for killin’ a bad man as well as a good one.”
Houston gave him her iciest look. “I will thank you to not judge and condemn my husband before you hear the facts.” She put the baby into the boy’s arms. “Here, you may take care of the babies while I go see my husband.”
“I can’t do that, Blair-Houston, I’m on city time. I’m a deputy sheriff.”
“I had the impression that you believed you were a judge. Check her diaper and see if she needs changing, and if the others wake up, feed them and entertain them until their mother returns in about two hours.”
“Two hours!” she heard the boy wail as she left the cabin.
Houston’s carriage was waiting outside for her and she made the trip to the jail in record time. The little stone building was built into a hill at the far edge of town. Most of the prisoners were drunks sleeping off Saturday night, and the real cases were usually taken to Denver to be tried.
“Good morning, Miss Blair-Houston,” the sheriff said, getting to his feet and hastily putting his paper down.
“Mrs. Taggert,” she corrected. “I’d like to see my husband immediately.”
“Why, of course, Mrs. Westfield-Taggert,” he said, removing the keys from a nail in the wall.
Kane was asleep on the cot and Houston saw the dried blood on the back of his head. She went to him, touched his face as she heard the cell door being locked behind her.
“K
ane, darling, what have they done to you?” She began to kiss his face and he started to wake.
“Oh, Houston,” Kane said as he rubbed his head. “What happened?”
“You don’t remember? They say that you killed Jacob Fenton. You didn’t, did you?”
“Hell, no!” he blurted, then paused as Houston went to her knees and put her head in his lap. “At least I don’t think so. I . . . ah, I really don’t remember too well.”
With her cheek against his thighs, his hand in her hair, she was determined not to show her fear. “Tell me what you do remember.”
He began his story slowly. “I went to see Fenton, and nobody was home so I went upstairs lookin’ for him. When I got to the front of the house, there he was lyin’ at the bottom of the stairs. Dead. The next minute, Marc Fenton and some others came in and started yellin’ that I’d killed him. There was a fight, and I got hit over the head with somethin’ hard, and I woke up here. I think there’s talk of a lynchin’.”
Houston looked up at him with fear in her eyes and after a moment she stood and began to walk about the cell. “That’s a very weak story.”
“Weak!” Kane gasped, then calmed. “Houston, honey, it’s the truth, I swear to you.”
“You were the only one in the house? There were no witnesses that he was already dead when you entered?”
“Not exactly that way. I mean, nobody saw me come into the house, I don’t think, but maybe somebody saw Fenton dead earlier.”
“That won’t matter. If someone saw him die, that would make a difference, but you could have been hiding in a closet for hours for all they know. Did someone actually see him die?”
“I . . . I don’t know, but Houston—.”
She came back to sit on the bed by him. “Kane, everyone in town heard you say that you wished Jacob was dead. Unless you have an eyewitness to his death, we’ll never prove that you’re innocent. What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know, but I think I’m beginnin’ to worry. Houston, there’s somethin’ I wanta tell you. It’s about the money.”
“Kane,” she said softly, looking up at him. “Why were you at Mr. Fenton’s house? You weren’t really planning to murder him?”
“Hell, no,” he said quickly. “I had Mr. Westfield draw up a paper sayin’ that I was releasin’ all my claims to the Fenton property, and I was takin’ the paper to Fenton. What I wanta talk to you about is my money. If they convict me, they’re gonna confiscate everything I own. You’ll not only be a widow, you’ll be a pauper. Your only chance to save any of the money is to leave me right now before I go to trial. If you do that, Westfield can arrange for you to have a few million.”
Houston was barely listening to the last part of what he was saying. Her face showed how stunned she was. “Why did you go to Fenton’s?” she whispered.
“I told you,” Kane said impatiently. “I wanted to give him a paper sayin’ I had no hold on his property. Poor ol’ man, he was dead when I got there and never saw the paper. But, Houston, what matters is that you have to save yourself and you’ve gotta do it now. If I’m taken out of here and lynched, it’ll be too late.”
Houston felt that she was in a dream. Ever since she’d found out that Kane had married her to enact a plan of revenge, she had never felt the same. She’d admitted that she loved him in spite of what he felt about her, but in her heart she’d always known that some part of her would withhold her complete love.
“You’ve given up your revenge, haven’t you?” she asked softly.
“Are you on that again? I told you that all I wanted was to have him at my table at a house that was bigger than his. If I could afford it, what was wrong with it?”
“But you also wanted a lady-wife at the table, too. You married me because—.”
“You married me for my money!” he shot at her. “And now you’re gonna lose ever’ penny of it when they hang me for a murder I didn’t commit.”
Houston stood. He hadn’t said, in so many words, that he loved her, but he did. She knew it. She knew it with every fiber in her body. He had married her as part of a stupid plan of revenge, but in the end, he’d fallen in love with her and, because of that love, he could forgive an old man who’d wronged him.
“I have to go,” she said. “I have a great deal of work to do.”
If she’d looked at Kane, she would have seen the look of pain on his face. “I guess you gotta talk to Mr. Westfield about the money.”
“Someone,” she murmured, pulling at her gloves. “Perhaps Mr. Westfield isn’t the right person.” Absently, she kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry about a thing. I know exactly what to do.” With that, she called to the sheriff and he let her out.
Kane stood in the middle of the cell for a moment, unable to move. She had certainly jumped at the chance to get rid of him, he thought. He climbed on the cot to look out the window and, as he saw Houston speeding away in her shiny carriage, he had to blink his eyes to clear the water. Sunlight, he thought, stepping down.
Easy come, easy go, he told himself. He’d done all right without a wife before, and he’d do all right again.
“Sheriff,” he called. “You can let me out now. I found out what I wanted to know.”
“Not on your life, Taggert,” the man answered, laughter in his voice. “The city of Chandler needs the revenue that I’m gonna charge you for a night’s accommodations.”
Without a word of protest, Kane went back to the cot. He didn’t really care where he spent tonight.
Chapter 31
“You’re sure you know what you’re doing?” Houston once again asked Ian.
Solemnly, Ian nodded as he glanced back at the small wooden crate in the back of the wagon. Beside him sat Zachary, his eyes straight ahead and alive with excitement. He wasn’t yet old enough to be fully aware of the dangers of what they’d planned.
“It isn’t in any danger of going off by itself, is it?” Houston asked.
“No,” Ian answered, but he couldn’t help glancing back at the little wooden box that held the dynamite.
Houston’s hands on the reins were white with the strain of holding them as tightly as she was.
It had taken nearly twenty-four hours to arrange what was going to happen tonight. She had known what she wanted to do, and right away she had also known that no adult would help her. When she’d asked Ian, she’d explained to him that he was taking a risk and could get into serious trouble if he was openly involved, but Ian had said that he owed Houston for all that he had now, and he was willing to risk anything. Much to Houston’s chagrin, Ian’d asked young Zachary to come along, saying that they needed someone to hold the horses.
Tonight, at midnight, Houston had met Ian at the Little Pamela mine and, counting on the confusion caused by the mine explosion, they’d broken the chains on the dynamite shack and stolen enough to blow away about two city blocks. Against Ian’s protest of the time it would take, Houston had rechained and relocked the shack.
Slipping about, neither of them very good at hiding the fact that they were doing something illegal, they managed to get the box into the waiting wagon. A few people said hello to Houston, but they’d seen her often in the last few days and thought nothing of her presence.
She and Ian were halfway down the mountainside when they met Zachary walking toward them. He’d climbed out his window, using a knotted rope, hours ago and had planned to walk all the way to the mine.
“You’re to do nothing but stay with the horses, nothing more,” Houston warned. “And, as soon as your father and I get on the horses, I want both of you out of there. Ian, can you get back into Edan’s house all right?”
“Of course.”
“And you, Zach?”
Zachary swallowed hard, because the rope had given way when he was still four feet off the ground. There was no way he could slip back into his house unnoticed. “Sure,” he answered. “No problem at all.”
Houston didn’t relax as they neared the sleeping town. It
was three o’clock when they reached the jail. Earlier, she’d hidden two saddle horses outside the jail, their bags laden with food, clothes and enough cash to carry them through a couple of months in hiding.
She stopped the wagon quite a distance from the jail and watched nervously as Ian removed the box of dynamite. She knew that he had trained in the mines as a shot-firer, but she wasn’t convinced that he knew how to blow up the side of the stone jail.
Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Ian started talking. “I’ll put a few sticks in the base of that wall that’s in the hill, then, when it blows, the entire wall will come sliding down. It’ll be like opening a very large window. Kane will have to jump down from the floorboards onto a horse, and then you’ll be off. It couldn’t be simpler.”
“A very simple plan, for which we could all go to prison for the rest of our lives,” she murmured.
Yesterday, when Kane had told her that he might be hanged for a murder that he didn’t commit—and, when Houston was honest with herself, she admitted that she didn’t really care whether he was a murderer or not—she knew that something had to be done to get him released. The town’s sympathy would be on Kane’s side after the way he’d helped with the disaster, but the trial would probably go to Denver, and Fenton Coal and Iron was a powerful force in Denver. She did not think he’d have a fair trial and, with no witnesses except to say that Kane had been found at the top of the stairs with a dead Jacob at the bottom, she had no doubt that Kane would be found guilty.
After only a moment’s soul-searching, she knew what had to be done. She had to get him out of the jail, and even if it meant that they had to spend the rest of their lives in hiding, she meant to do it. They’d go to Mexico, and she thought that she could get Blair to send them enough money to live on. As long as Kane kept a quiet profile and didn’t call too much attention to himself, she thought they could get away from the American law. It was too bad that Kane was so well known in so many parts of the country, so they couldn’t possibly hide in the United States.