Lakota Renegade (28 page)

Chapter Thirty-Two

The trip to Harrison was long but uneventful. They took a stage to Sacramento, then caught a train headed East.

Lacking Jassy’s conviction that everything would turn out for the best, Creed grew increasingly morose as the miles slipped past. The thought of going back to prison loomed before him. No matter how many times he told himself that Rose’s letter and Jassy’s testimony should be enough to clear him of the murder charge, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he would soon find himself back in prison. He couldn’t bear the thought of being locked up, not now, not when he had so much to live for. He knew he would rather die than spend the next twenty years locked behind iron bars—shut away from Jassy and his daughter.

Daily, his frustration grew—frustration at being handcuffed, at being unable to spend any time alone with Jassy, at the contemptuous looks cast his way whenever the train stopped and Stuart Flanders hustled him off the train so he could stretch his legs.

At one stop, Creed had asked the deputy if he wouldn’t turn him loose. “I won’t try to escape,” he had said, meaning it. “I give you my word.”

“Are you serious?” Flanders had asked. “You want me to take them cuffs off?” The lawman had laughed ruefully. “I don’t think so.”

They had to take a stage into Harrison. Creed was ready to explode by the time they reached town.

Jassy pressed close to Creed, the baby cradled in her arms, while Flanders waited for his valise.

“It’ll all work out,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze. “You’ll see.”

Creed nodded. “Go on over to the hotel, Jassy. Get some rest.”

Jassy didn’t want to leave him, not for a minute. He had a wild, haunted look in his eyes and she was sorely afraid that he would do something foolish, like try to escape. But as much as she wanted to stay with him, she needed to nurse the baby. And little Rose needed a bath and a nap.

Standing on tiptoe, Jassy pressed a kiss to her husband’s cheek. “We’ll be over to see you soon.”

Creed loosed a long sigh, and then he nodded. As much as he hated the thought of her visiting him in the jail, the thought of not seeing her at all was unthinkable.

Jassy kissed him again, murmured that she loved him, then hurried down the street toward the Harrison House. The sooner she got settled, the sooner she could see Creed.

Heads turned as Flanders and Creed walked down the boardwalk toward the jail. Creed looked straight ahead, acutely conscious of the shackles that bound his hands, of the speculative glances that followed him.

Stuart Flanders ushered Creed into the jail, signed the necessary papers which transferred custody of the prisoner from one lawman to another, then left the office to catch the next train west.

Frank Harrington shook his head in wry amusement as he locked Creed in his old cell.

“Just couldn’t stay away, huh?” Harrington remarked as he slid the key from the lock. “Well, stick your hands out here, and I’ll take those cuffs off.”

“Is Parker in town?” Creed asked, rubbing his wrists when the manacles were removed. Damn, he hated being cuffed, hated the feel of cold metal shackling his hands, restricting his movements.

Harrington shook his head. “Naw. He’s hearing a case over in Leadville. Sent a wire a couple days ago saying he should be here in a week or so.”

A week or so! Creed glanced at the bars that surrounded him and swore under his breath. “I don’t guess you’d turn me loose until he shows up.”

“What do you think?”

Creed shrugged. “It was worth a try.”

Harrington grunted, then left the cellblock, whistling softly as he closed the door behind him.

Wrapping his hands around the bars, Creed pressed his forehead against the cold steel and closed his eyes.

Lord, how he hated being locked up!

Jassy came to see him just after dinner. Dressed in a pale yellow dress and matching bonnet, he thought he had never seen anything prettier in his life.

Harrington unlocked the cell and opened the door, then stepped back, his hand resting on the butt of his gun, while Jassy stepped inside.

“Thirty minutes,” the sheriff said curtly.

Jassy reached for Creed as soon as the door closed behind them. “Are you all right?”

“I am, now that you’re here.”

“The sheriff said Judge Parker won’t be here for at least a week.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’m sorry, Creed. I know how hard this must be for you.”

Creed nodded. His nerves were strung out and raw. “Where’s the baby?”

“My friend, Kate Bradshaw, is watching her.”

“I didn’t know you had any friends in town.”

“Only a couple. Most of the people treated me fine, once they realized I wasn’t like my mother.” She swallowed hard. “Or Rose.”

“I’m glad, Jassy.”

Taking her by the hand, he sat down on the edge of the cot and drew her down beside him, his arm sliding around her waist, holding her close. Lord, she felt good. Smelled good.

Jassy leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. “They’ll like you, too, once they get to know you.”

“I doubt that.” He’d lived here, off and on, for years, and he could count the people who acknowledged him on one hand.

“Forget about them.” She gazed up at him, wishing she could wipe the tension from his face, the pain from his eyes. “I love you.”

“Jassy.”

She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him, her body straining to be closer to his. Creed groaned low in his throat as her tongue skimmed over his lower lip. Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her down on the cot, his blood racing as her body molded itself to his. Her mouth was warm and sweet, filled with promises and hope for the future, and he clung to her, desperate to believe that they might still have a life together in spite of the doubts that plagued him.

“Creed…” Her voice was breathless, filling with longing.

“I know.” he replied, his voice husky with desire. “I know.” He held her close, breathing in the fragrant scent of her hair and skin. His hands moved lightly over her breasts. They were heavy, swollen with milk. He ached with wanting her, with the knowledge that this might be the full extent of his time with her, that he might never have a chance to make a life for the three of them.

“Jassy, if things go wrong, if they send me back to Canon City…”

“No!” She drew away and pressed her hands over her ears. “I know what you’re going to say and I don’t want to hear it.”

“Jassy, listen…”

“No!” She shook her head. “You’re not sending me away again, Creed Maddigan, do you understand? I’m your wife. No matter what happens, we’ll see it through together.”

“Dammit, Jassy, be reasonable. What are you gonna do if they send me back to prison? You can’t spend the next twenty years of your life waiting for me.”

“I can, and I will.”

“No.” He stood abruptly and began to pace the floor. “I don’t want you to spend your whole life alone, waiting. If they send me back, I want you to get a divorce, find yourself a…a good, decent man to…” His hands curled around the bars. “I want you to find someone who’ll be a father to my daughter.”

Jassy looked at Creed. His hands were wrapped around the bars, the knuckles white. She knew just what those words had cost him. He was a proud man, and he loved her deeply, passionately. Jealousy. And yet he had only her happiness in mind. Never had she loved him more.

“Promise me, Jassy?”

“I can’t.”

He turned to face her, his expression bleak. “Seems like we’ve been through this before,” he muttered ruefully.

“But it’ll be better this time. I know it will.”

He crossed the short space between them, then knelt in front of her. Taking her hands in his, he pressed them to his lips. “Jassy, if they send me back to prison, I want your promise you’ll get a divorce and get on with your life. Promise me.”

“Please don’t ask me.”

“I’m not asking you,” he said quietly. “I’m begging you. I don’t want to spend the next twenty years knowing I’ve ruined your life, that you’re living alone, raising our daughter alone. You’re a young woman, too young to spend your life alone.” He looked deep into her eyes. “Promise me?”

Her heart was breaking. She knew it. She could feel it shattering, feel the pieces cutting her into her soul. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him he was being unfair. How could he expect her to even think of another man now? And yet, how could she lash out at him when she knew he was only thinking of her, wanting the best for her and their daughter? It couldn’t be easy for him. And if giving him her promise would ease his mind, she would give it.

“All right, Creed, I promise.”

He sighed, as if a great weight had been taken from his shoulders, and then he buried his face in her lap, his arms locked around her waist. He sat there for a long while.

Jassy stroked his hair and back, knowing that she’d never be able to keep the promise she had made, knowing she would never love anyone else the way she loved Creed Maddigan. She belonged to him, heart and soul, for now and for always.

Too soon, Harrington came to get her.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Jassy promised as she lifted her face for Creed’s kiss. “I’ll bring the baby.”

Creed nodded.

“I love you.”

“I know.” He ran his hand over her cheek. “Are you all right? Do you have everything you need?”

“We’re fine. Stop worrying.” She smiled at him.

Harrington cleared his throat. “You about ready, Missus Maddigan?”

“Yes.” She kissed Creed one more time, then walked to the cell door.

“Against the wall, Maddigan,” Harrington said brusquely.

Resentment rose in Creed as he went to stand against the back wall. Standing there, watching the lawman unlock the cell door, he was overcome with a need to lash out, to bury his fist in the lawman’s face. He hated being locked up, hated taking orders, hated the fact that his life was no longer his own. He couldn’t live like this. If Parker decided to send him back to prison, he’d make a run for it and hope they killed him.

Harrington met Creed’s eyes as he opened the door. The two men stared at each other as Jassy left the cell, then Harrington stepped forward and closed and locked the door.

“I know how you feel,” the sheriff remarked after Jassy left the cellblock. “I just hope you don’t try anything stupid.”

Creed shook his head. “I won’t,” he said tersely. He glanced down the corridor. “I’ve got too much to lose.”

Harrington’s features softened a little. “See that you remember that.”

It took ten days for Parker to reach Harrison. Creed’s nerves were drawn tighter than a Lakota war drum by then. Jassy came to see him twice a day, bringing the baby with her in the morning, coming alone in the evening. As she had before, she brought him cookies. She also brought him the newspaper to read, a change of clothes, his razor. She made him talk to her when he was feeling sullen and discouraged. She told him that she had renewed her acquaintance not only with Kate Bradshaw, but with Elizabeth Wills, and that both women adored the baby. Mrs. Wellington had offered to give Jassy her old job back, if she wanted it.

It was a cold and cloudy Friday morning when Harrington stepped into Creed’s cell. Jace Rutledge stood outside, a shotgun cradled in his arm, while Harrington handcuffed Creed.

“The judge is waiting for you in his office,” Harrington said.

Creed frowned. “In his office? Why?”

Harrington shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”

“I thought I was getting a new trial.”

Harrington grunted. “I just do what I’m told. Let’s go.”

Creed shivered as he stepped out of the jail. A cold wind was blowing down out of the mountains; there was the smell of rain in the air.

Taking a deep breath, he walked down the street toward the judge’s office.

Jassy was waiting inside, the baby in her arms.

“Mr. Maddigan,” Judge Parker said. He indicated the chair in front of his desk. “Sit down.”

Creed did as he was told. Judge Parker was a tall, spare man in his late fifties. His brown hair was peppered with gray, his brown eyes were shrewd.

“I’ve read the statement signed by Rose McCloud,” Parker said. “And I’ve listened to your wife’s testimony. I’d like you to tell me exactly what happened that night.”

“I’d been playing poker in the Lazy Ace. It was about midnight when I left. I was on my way to my room at the hotel when Canfield called me out. He fired first.” Creed shrugged. “He missed. I didn’t.”

“I see.” The judge stared at the papers spread on his desk.

“You escaped from Canon City some months ago.”

Creed nodded.

“Why?”

“Why?” Creed stared at the judge. “You ever been in prison, Your Honor?”

“No.”

“Well, if you had, you wouldn’t have to ask why I escaped when I got the chance. I did it then, and I’d do it again.”