Stealing Jake

CHAPTER Eighteen



Something was wrong.

“Gus?” Jake dismounted and crunched through the snow to the door and knocked. He listened for any sounds, but Gus’s ever-present humming was noticeably absent.

Gus hadn’t shown up to fill the coal bin at the jail today, and he always arrived before daylight. No smoke curled from the old man’s chimney, which struck Jake as odd. Gus hadn’t said anything yesterday about being away from home today. And where would he go, anyway?

When nobody answered, Jake pushed open the door to the dark cabin. The coals in the fireplace lay cold. Little Bit poked her head through the opening between the cabin and the lean-to and brayed. One thing was for sure. No matter where he went, Gus wouldn’t leave Little Bit behind.

In the gloom, Jake spotted Gus on his cot, a blanket draped over him.

“Gus?”

The old man didn’t move or acknowledge his presence. Jake hurried to his side, worried that his worst fears had materialized and that Gus had died in his sleep. First Seamus and now Gus. He reached out a trembling hand and laid it on Gus’s forehead. His skin felt hot to the touch.

Thank You, Lord. He’s alive.

“Gus? Can you hear me?”

Gus mumbled something, but Jake couldn’t make out what he said. He grabbed a couple of ragged blankets and piled them on. He glanced at the cold fireplace and frowned. Making a quick decision, he hurried outside and hooked Little Bit to the cart. They’d be snug in town before he could get the fire going and bring the doctor.

He lined the bed of the cart with half of Gus’s tattered blankets, hefted him into the little wagon, then covered him with the rest of the blankets and quilts. He mounted his horse, leading Little Bit behind. He hurried Little Bit as fast as he dared. The game donkey’s short legs kept pace with Jake’s long-legged mare as if she knew Gus needed help.

Jake decided against taking Gus to the boardinghouse, the orphanage, or even to Doc Valentine’s. Miss Nellie didn’t have time to see after a sick man, and neither did Mrs. Brooks and Livy, although none of the women would turn him away. But Gus wouldn’t want to wake up at either place.

Instead, he headed straight for the jail. Either Jake or Sheriff Carter were there around the clock. They probably couldn’t take care of the old man as good as the women, but they’d do the best they could.

Abner came out of the mercantile as Jake halted his mare at the jail. “Hey, Abner, run and get Doc Valentine. Hurry.”

“Yes, sir.” Abner darted away.

Jake settled Gus on a cot in one of the cells. He groaned and muttered a couple of times but didn’t wake up.

Lord, help Gus. Forgive me for not doing more for him, for not encouraging him to go to church and to learn more about You. I don’t even know if he’s a Christian.

He worked to make the old man comfortable, sending prayers heavenward for his life and his soul. Relief coursed through him when the door opened. “In here, Doc.”

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s Gus.” Jake stepped back. “He’s burning up with fever.”

Doc Valentine pulled up a chair and checked Gus over. He mumbled as he worked.

Jake gritted his teeth. “What’s wrong with him?”

“A touch of pneumonia.” The doctor muttered under his breath, stood, and snapped his black bag shut. He handed Jake a bottle of medicine. Jake leaned in so he didn’t miss any of the garbled instructions. “Keep his fever down. . . . Give him a dose of this three times a day. Hmmm . . . I’ll be back later.”

And with that, Doc Valentine mumbled himself right out of the jail.

Jake spent the rest of the day sponging Gus. His fever would go down, and he’d rest for fifteen minutes or so; then he’d get restless again. Around noon, Gus looked at him, his eyes glazed with fever. “Mr. Jake?”

“I’m here, Gus.”

Gus reached out a feeble hand. “Take care of the kids.”

“The kids? What kids, Gus?”

“Cold.”

“You’re cold? I’ll get another blanket.”

“No.” Gus gripped his hand. A spasm of coughing hit him. When he could speak again, he rasped, “Kids. Cold.”

Jake frowned. “The kids are cold?”

Confusion clouded the old man’s eyes, but he held up a trembling hand, focused on it a moment. “Gloves.”

“I know they need gloves, Gus.” Jake patted Gus’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Gus babbled on, but Jake couldn’t make anything else out. After a while, he lapsed into a fitful sleep. Jake spooned a dose of Doc’s medicine into him and tried to keep his fever down.

Sometime midafternoon, Reverend Warren stopped by. “I just heard. How is he?”

“About the same.”

“Mrs. Warren insists we move Gus to the parsonage.”

Jake raked a hand through his hair. “He’d better stay here. You know he’d be mighty uncomfortable to wake up with Mrs. Warren fussing over him.”

The preacher nodded. “You’re probably right. He’d hightail it out of there so fast, he’d forget his britches. We’ll leave him here for now.” He thumbed over his shoulder toward the front room. “The wife sent over a pot of chicken stew. Eat something and get some rest. I’ll watch Gus for a while.”

“Thanks, Reverend.”

Jake wolfed down two bowls of Mrs. Warren’s soup, stumbled out of the jail, and crossed the street. He’d never been so thankful that Baker’s Boardinghouse faced the jail, right next door to McIver’s. He mounted the stairs to his room and closed the door, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.



* * *





The six o’clock whistle pierced the evening stillness, echoing through the whole town. The sound galvanized Livy, Emma, and Mary into action. The miners would flood the small café in fifteen minutes. The men would be starving, as usual. Livy rushed around, cutting corn bread and ladling up bowls of beef stew.

Emma took another pone of corn bread out of the oven and dumped it on a platter. “Go ahead and put those bowls on the tables. All we’ve got is stew and corn bread. If they don’t like that, they’ll have to go someplace else.”

There wasn’t anywhere else to go. Miss Nellie only served her boarders. And most of the men who stopped in at Emma’s didn’t have a wife to cook for them. But the miners would be more than satisfied with Emma’s cooking. They wanted something hot and filling, and Emma’s cooking met both requirements.

Livy started pouring coffee the minute the first wave of men hit the door.

And didn’t stop for the next hour.

Over the last few days, the three women had developed a system. As soon as the diners arrived, Livy filled plates and bowls and coffee cups, refilling as needed. Mary washed dishes, and Emma kept cooking more food until she ran out or the crowd thinned, whichever came first.

Tired after a twelve-hour shift, the men rarely lingered. They thanked Emma for a hearty meal and left as soon as they finished. Some would go home to sleep, while others chose to drop by the nearest saloon.

When the café cleared, the women went to work washing up and restoring order. The same crew would want breakfast in the morning.

Livy wiped down the tables, then started washing pans. “Emma, why don’t you serve a noon meal?”

“I can’t hold out for sixteen hours a day. Besides, the miners who work nights are usually asleep during the noon meal, so I don’t think it would be very busy anyway.”

“You never know.”

“I’ll think about it. I’d have to have some more help, though. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Have you always lived in Chestnut?”

“No. When my husband came to work in the coal mines, I opened the café to bring in a few extra dollars.” A shadow passed over Emma’s face. “He died in the Black Gold mine collapse in ’72.”

Livy touched Emma’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

Emma smiled. “That’s all right. There were a lot of other women in worse shape than me. I had the café and didn’t have any children to support. Twenty-nine men died that day, and a lot of them left wives and young children behind. Only mine disaster around these parts so far, thank the Lord. I cringe every time I hear one of those whistles if it’s not time for a shift change.”

“A lot’s changed since you’ve been here, hasn’t it?”

“When my husband and I came, everybody knew everybody. We didn’t have the riffraff we have now. All these bums from Chicago who ride in on the trains looking for an easy mark. And the children—that’s the worst.”

Livy stopped scrubbing. “The street kids?”

“Yep. Remember that boy I told you about? He stopped by the other night but took off as soon as I mentioned that you wanted to talk to him. He’s a skittish one, he is.”

“Has he caused trouble?”

“No, not that. But it’s sad to know they’re roaming the streets and nobody cares anything about them.”

“I’ve taken them some food,” Livy said.

“Do you know where they’re staying?”

“No. But I know where to leave the food, and they pick it up.”

“To tell you the truth, I always cook an extra pone of corn bread or biscuits. The boy brings a few pennies, and we both pretend it’s enough.”

“I know they appreciate your help.” Good Samaritans like Emma were few and far between.

“There’s some leftover ham and corn bread. You can take it to them if you’ve a mind to.”

“Thank you. I’ll do that.” She called to Mary, who’d been busy sweeping up, “Mary, are you ready to head home?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m finished.”

The door opened and Emma called out, “We’re closed.”

“I’m not looking for a meal, Emma.” Jake pushed back the curtain. “I’m looking for Livy and Mary.”

Livy blushed.

Emma looked from one to the other. “I didn’t know you knew Jake.” Then she laughed. “Well, I guess everybody knows Jake, since he’s a deputy and all.”

Jake’s gaze met Livy’s. “I told Mrs. Brooks I’d walk you two home. I’m making rounds anyway, so it’s no trouble.”

“We’re almost done here.” A wave of pleasure wafted over Livy. He cared enough to see that they made it home safely.

Emma waved her away. “You girls go on now. All I’ve got to do is lock up. I’ll see you in the morning, Livy.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Livy picked up the parcel of food Emma had wrapped for her. She’d better wait until later to deliver it. She didn’t want to expose Mary to the burned-out shantytown, and she didn’t want Jake to worry either.

“Ladies.” Jake held out both arms. Livy slipped her hand through the crook of his arm, while Mary giggled.

“How’s Gus? We heard he’d been sick.” Livy lifted her skirt and stepped around a patch of snow turning to icy slush.

“Better. His fever broke this afternoon, and we’re having trouble keeping him in bed.”

“Mrs. Brooks will be so glad to hear that. We’ve been praying for him.”

They walked two blocks down, cut across behind McIver’s, crossed Main Street, and turned left toward home. Jake kept up a brisk pace along the boardwalk until they reached the orphanage.

Once out of the cold, Livy took off her gloves and coat.

She picked up the tin coffeepot. “Would you like a cup?”

Jake leaned against the doorjamb, staring. The dim lamplight cast shadows over his sculpted features. Livy bit her lip. What would it be like if he were her husband and this their kitchen? If the children asleep in the parlor were theirs?

“I wish I could stay, but I’ve got a few more rounds to make before I head back to the jail.”

“What time do you get off?”

“Sheriff Carter relieves me around daylight.”

“You’ll be up all night?”

“Yes. I’ll make a couple rounds around town. Helps pass the time.” He leaned in close and whispered, “Want to come over to the jail and keep me company?”

“Jake!” Livy glanced at Mary, but the girl sat cross-legged in front of Ginger, engrossed in the three kittens in her lap.

“I was just kidding.” He winked at her. “Night, Livy. See you tomorrow.”

Livy wrapped her arms around her waist and watched him walk away until the darkness swallowed him up.

What would it be like to keep Jake company all the time? Her heart tumbled through her rib cage at the very thought.



* * *





Luke spotted the same guy he’d seen with Billy Johansen sneaking around the blacksmith’s house. If he could get a good look at the man’s face, he could prove his and the rest of the street kids’ innocence.

But who could he tell?

The sheriff and the deputy wouldn’t believe him. And neither would the man who had Mark locked up in his factory. Maybe he could bargain with the man. If he knew who the thief was, then he could convince the man to trade Mark for the information.

It was a risk. The man might just kill him, but what other choice did he have? He needed to save his brother.

Luke watched the man slip into the blacksmith’s house. He ignored the cold and settled in to wait.

The thief would come out, and Luke would be watching and waiting.



* * *





Chestnut lay still and quiet, blanketed in snow. Livy pulled her cloak closer, paused at the edge of a building, and let her eyes become accustomed to the darkness. She listened but didn’t hear anything other than the bark of a dog in the distance and the usual sounds from the saloons several blocks away.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t run into Jake tonight, not after he’d taken the time to escort her and Mary home. He wouldn’t like the idea of her venturing out, so she’d kept quiet about her errand. It wouldn’t take long to dart across town and back. She’d be snug in her bed in less than an hour, and he’d be none the wiser.

The thought of his teasing warmed her even in the chill night. He would come around to her way of thinking regarding the boys. She believed he cared, and with time, she could convince him they weren’t the outlaws he thought they were.

She crossed the street and hurried down another alley, cutting across behind the barbershop. Since the night of the break-in at the gunsmith’s, she’d taken the time to explore the alleys and dead-end streets all over town. She didn’t intend to get caught in a bind again if she could help it.

A few minutes later, she reached the spot where she left food.

A sliver of moon cast light over the snow-covered ground, illuminating the alley. Livy picked her steps so she didn’t trip over the boxes and crates scattered about. She moved to the rear of the alley, placed the basket under the edge of the building, and shoved it back. The children would know where to find it.

She looked around, not sensing anyone near. Sighing, she turned away and headed home again. She’d hoped they would eventually trust her enough to come out and talk to her and maybe even come to the orphanage to get out of the cold, but they couldn’t put their faith in her . . . yet. How long would it take, and what would she have to do before they realized she only wanted to help them?

A movement, just the flicker of a shadow, caught her eye, and she flattened herself against the nearest building. A dog looking for scraps? A cat, maybe? Either way, she waited. She’d learned to be patient after years on the streets of Chicago.

The shadow moved and became a man—or maybe a boy. He crouched and ran from one building to the next, focusing on something ahead of him. He never noticed her. Was the thief out and about again? She darted forward, staying low and to the shadows but keeping him in sight.

She ducked behind a rain barrel when he stopped, keeping her eyes on his back. Maybe she should just go to the jail and warn Jake. But if she did, this fellow would be long gone. No, she’d try to get a look at his face or at least track him to wherever he stopped. Then she’d go get Jake.

She took stock of her surroundings, didn’t see or hear anything, and hurried to keep up with her quarry. All she wanted was one good look at his face. He took off again and cut down an alley. Livy followed, amazed that he didn’t watch his back.

The closer she got, the more concerned she became that maybe this was one of the boys who lived on the streets after all. He didn’t look as big as the thief she’d seen the other night.

Uncertainty filled her. Had she been wrong about them all this time? She’d defended those boys because she’d been convinced they would steal only for food and clothing, to keep from freezing to death. Maybe Jake had been right and she’d been duped.

All of a sudden, he flattened himself against the nearest wall. Livy crouched behind a wagon, her narrowed gaze watching. Then it dawned on her. He was following someone else. No wonder he hadn’t been concerned about checking behind him. He moved forward again, this time darting away as if his prey hurried on ahead.

Livy gave chase, not wanting to lose sight of him. This must be one of the boys she’d been trying to talk to. But whom could he be following? Moments later, she reached the edge of a building and peered around it. Ahead, the boy hunkered down against a corral fence beside a ramshackle barn a hundred yards away. She followed his line of vision. Someone slipped into the barn. She hurried forward, determined to talk to him.

The boy was so focused on watching the barn, she could reach out and touch him before he realized she was there. “Don’t move,” she whispered.

The boy jumped but didn’t run. “Who are you?”

“You should know who I am.” Hopefully, he wouldn’t bolt until she got some answers out of him.

He glanced at her. She could barely make out his features in the darkness, but he couldn’t be more than ten or twelve. His eyes widened. “You’re the woman from the orphanage.”

“Yes.”

“How’d you sneak up on me?”

“You were so busy watching whoever you’re trailing that it wasn’t too much trouble. I followed you halfway across town,” she whispered. “Now, who are you following and why?”

He turned and focused on the barn, not answering.

“My name’s Livy O’Brien. What’s yours?”

Still no answer.

“After all I’ve done for you and the others, you can at least tell me your name.”

He threw her a look. “You took the watch.”

“You stole it off Mr. Russell. It wasn’t yours to keep.”

For a moment, he didn’t answer her; then he uttered one word. “Luke.”

“Nice to meet you, Luke.”

“How’d you know?”

“Know what?”

“That we tag-teamed the deputy and stole his watch.” He laughed, a soft sound. “We didn’t know he was a deputy at the time, or we wouldn’t have done it. So how could you tell?”

“I can do that maneuver in my sleep.”

He looked at her then, really looked at her. “You’re joshing.”

“I’m not.” She grinned. “How long before you realized the watch was missing?”

He squirmed. “Long enough. For a while, I thought I’d dropped it somewhere along the way, but it was too risky to go back and look for it.”

“You’re right. It was too risky. And it was even riskier for you to steal the thing in the first place. What I can’t figure out is why. Why steal something like that? And why steal a watch from McIver’s and those guns from the gunsmith?”

“We—I never stole nothing else since we took the watch from the deputy.”

“That’s not what the townspeople think.”

“I know.” He cut his eyes at her. “Do you believe me?”

“I do. I lived on the streets of Chicago, and I know the last thing you want is for people to suspect you of stealing and come after you.”

He nodded, seeming to realize that she really did know the kind of life he lived. “How’d you, uh . . . how’d you get off the streets?”

Livy put her hand on his coat sleeve. “I learned to trust someone. We all have to do that at some point.”

He shrugged her hand off and focused on the barn. “I done that once, and it almost cost my brother his life.”

“I’m sorry, Luke.” Livy’s heart broke. Not even a man but old in the ways of the world. “I know there are people who only want to use you, but there are some who can be trusted. Mrs. Brooks is a good woman, and she has a heart of gold. Remember that.”

The barn door creaked open, and they ducked down, not speaking. Two men stepped outside, one clean-shaven, one bearded. The bearded man slapped the other one on the shoulder and sent him on his way before stepping back inside.

Livy made to rise.

Luke put a hand on her arm. “Wait.”

Moments later, the bearded man led out two horses, one saddled, one with a pack strapped across its back. He shut the doors, mounted, and rode toward the outskirts of town, leading the pack horse.

“Do you know who they are?” Livy asked.

“No. That’s why I followed him.”

“Luke, these men could be dangerous. Why don’t you tell the sheriff what you’ve seen?”

“Without a name or a face, it won’t do any good.”

“Then we can tell Sheriff Carter and Jake to come here and wait. They can catch them the next time.”

Luke shook his head. “He never takes the loot to the same place twice.”

Livy shook her head, exasperated. “You’ve followed him before, haven’t you? What’s going to happen to the others if you get yourself killed? Your friends are depending on you. You need to stop taking risks or at least tell the sheriff what you know to keep from being railroaded out of town or put in jail. I want to help, but you’re not making it easy.”

“I don’t know. . . .”

Livy tried another tactic, hoping she’d broken the ice with him. “I’d like to meet the others. I think you know by now you can trust me.”

“Maybe.”

A noise from behind them drew Livy’s attention.

Jake, making his late night rounds, headed straight toward them.

She whispered, “Now’s a good time for us to tell Jake what happened.”

“I—I can’t,” Luke said. Then he took off like cannon shot. Not more than thirty feet away, he sprawled on a patch of ice.

“Hey, you. Stop.” Jake rushed forward as Luke scrambled to his feet.

Livy did the only thing she could to protect the terrified boy. She walked out in plain sight and found herself staring down the barrel of a Colt .45.