Jessie's War (Civil War Steam) (35 page)

“No.”

“If I told you to stay here,
you’d still find your way there, wouldn’t you?” Jameson motioned to the stack
of photographs.

Luke lifted his chin. “You
can’t take me off this case, Jameson.” He held his hands loosely by his sides,
preparing for a fight. “I’ve always had your back.
Always
. Now I want you to return the favor.”

“Calling in favors? Pretty
low, Bradshaw,” Parker snapped.

Luke fought to keep his
expression bland. “This is my case. I fought for it. You know what I did to get
it, and I told you why when it came out for assignment. This isn’t a surprise.”

“Yeah, but you failed to
mention she’s your wife.”

“She wasn’t at the time.”

Parker’s face tightened. “You
failed to mention other things, too.”

“Don’t.” Luke folded his arms
over his chest.

“Why not?” Parker demanded. “Since
we’re actually considering this fool’s idea, shouldn’t everything be on the
table?”

“I’m telling you, don’t do
this.” Luke’s voice was little more than an angry snarl, and beneath his
crossed arms, his hands were balled into fists. Ready to fight.
Wanting
to fight.

“Stop.” Jameson met each man’s
eyes in turn. “Jonah’s right. Time isn’t on our side. We’re not going to be
able to negotiate with the Shoshone to allow us into their territory. We’re not
going to find anyone else who can get us in on such short notice. So we’re left
with two choices. Fight our way in or take her with us.”

“I’d rather fight my way in,
frankly,” Parker said.

“For what purpose?” Whitfield
asked. “I say, let’s take her.”

Though Luke recognized the
logic in Whitfield’s words, he couldn’t bring himself to voice it. Couldn’t
face the idea of taking her with him into what awaited them inside that
mountain.

Anyone
but Jessie
. He’d risk
heaven and hell to get George White out. He wouldn’t risk her
.

Parker motioned to Luke. “He’s
compromised. If it were any of the rest of us, I’d not be so reluctant. But it’s
him
.”

“What’s that supposed to
mean?” Whitfield snapped.

Parker shook his head
tightly. He turned to Jessie. “Don’t take this personal, Missus. I’ve got nothing
against you. But he won’t be objective if you’re there, and quite possibly if
you’re not. On a mission like this, we need him to be objective, and he can’t
be. Too much is at stake.”

Her eyes shifted over to
Luke. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Luke tried to quell the
despair rising in him like the tide, threatening to drown him. She deserved to
know the truth. “It’s nothing,” he said instead.

“Bullshit,” Parker snapped. “Why
don’t you tell her what our orders are? Why don’t you tell her what you agreed
to when you said our team should get this assignment?”

“You know damn well why. Don’t
try my patience, Solo.”

He couldn’t tell her. Wouldn’t
tell her. She never had to know.

“What is it?” Jessie asked.
Her body had gone still and quiet, her hands immobile. Only her eyes moved as
they roamed his face.

She’d betrayed him by not
telling him the truth in the first place.

She’d loved him more than
anyone in his life.

She’d hate him for what he’d
done, and what he’d agreed to do.

His thoughts flashed back to what
they’d shared the night before, when she’d told him she loved him again. For
the first time since he’d left her eight years before, he felt whole.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry.” He
shook his head at Parker, hoping he would understand why Luke couldn’t tell
her. “I won’t let it come to that.”

“You can’t know that. Are you
going to be able to do what might need to be done?”

“Solomon Parker, you will
stop this instant.” Elizabeth put her hands on her hips “Let him tell her.”

“He never will.” Parker’s
voice was bland.

Jessie wiped her palms on her
skirt, her dark eyes wide, her lips tight. “Tell me what?”

“He—”

“Dammit, Parker, shut up!”
Luke roared. Violence surged through him, and he shot forward to slam his fist
into Parker’s face.

The room erupted as Whitfield
grabbed Luke by the arms before he could land another blow and yanked him
backwards. Luke lunged again.

Jameson hit him in the center
of his chest with the flat of his hand so hard Luke stumbled. “Enough!” he
shouted. “Enough.”

Fury burned hot and bright
inside his chest, and Luke jerked his arm out of Whitfield’s grasp.

Parker straightened and
dabbed at the blood at the corner of his lips. He scowled at Luke, and then
turned to Jessie. “He’ll never tell you, and you’ll go in blind. You’ll never
know our orders expressly state that if we can’t get your Pop out, we must make
sure the Rebs don’t keep him.”

Luke howled an angry,
wordless protest and threw himself at Parker again. Whitfield, standing between
the two men, put his shoulder down and hit Luke in the chest, knocking him
back.

For a goddamn rich boy,
Whitfield packed quite a wallop.

Luke was about to launch
himself at Parker again when he noticed Jessie. She stood silent at stone, her
hands immobile, her face set. He stopped midstride and went quiet, too.

Her eyes were dry, her
expression closed.

This was the Jessie he’d
encountered in Virginia City, not the wife who’d chosen him the night before.
The love he’d seen in her eyes earlier was gone, replaced by an impenetrable
distance.

“Out.” Jameson roughly pushed
Parker out of the room.

“She needed to know,” Parker
said as he passed Luke.

“Fuck you.”

“You’ll thank me later.”

“Don’t bet on it.” Luke
watched them leave, and the moment Parker was out of the room, he went to
Jessie. He reached out and touched her face.

She took a step back. “Was he
telling the truth?”

“Jess, please understand.” He
started over. “It’s not what you think.”

“No?” She pushed past him and
put her hand on the back of couch. “I’m pretty certain Mr. Parker just said
your orders are to kill my father if you can’t get him free. Who’d do the deed,
Luke? You?”

“Jess…”

“How about you try telling me
the truth, for a change?” She walked away from him, down the hall toward the
room they shared. She jerked open the door and grabbed her coat.

His chest started to ache,
and he spread his hands in a conciliatory manner. He wanted her to forgive him,
but he didn’t deserve her pardon. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me the
truth.” She paused, and when he was silent, she continued. “What are your
orders? What, precisely, did you agree to do?”

“It’s no different than any
other case.”

“You’re lying to me. It’s not
any other case, is it? This is me, Luke.
My
life. My father’s life. Tell me the truth.”

He swallowed against the ball
forming in his throat. From between clenched teeth, he gave her what she asked
for. He gave her the truth.

“The orders are to not allow
your father to remain in Confederate custody, if we can determine he’s still
alive. But—”

“And me?” she interrupted. “What
are you supposed to do with me?”

“Jess.” Her name was a
protest dying on his lips. She’d either forgive him or she wouldn’t. He’d
survive if she didn’t.

He just wouldn’t want to.

“Mr. Parker told the truth,
didn’t he?”

“Yes,” he said.

“You lied to me.”

Luke shook his head, just
once. “No. You didn’t need to know.” The words rushed out of him. “I won’t let
it come to that. It’s not an option for me. So I didn’t tell you about
something I have no intention of doing. I shouldn’t be forced to tell you about
everything I
don’t
plan on doing.”

She swallowed. “Like my
father used to say, omission or commission. The punishment’s the same.”

“Right back at you,” he
snapped. “You didn’t tell me what you knew. You lied to me. So I left some
stuff out. I never lied to you.”

“You didn’t? For years you
let me believe you were dead. Did you know, I put up a marker for you next to
Gid’s?” Her voice rose and broke. “Now you wonder why I didn’t tell you
everything I knew the moment you walked through my door? If we’re going to compare
whose sins are bigger, I think you win.”

He hated the pain in her
voice, hated the way her words twisted and curdled in his gut, making him feel
like a trapped animal. She’d loved him enough to erect a monument in his honor,
and place it next to her brother’s. The thought pained him, and he had only his
anger to fight it.

“You’re right, Jess. I’m the
bad guy.”

She snorted derisively. “You
don’t believe that.” Pushing past him, she reached for the doorknob.

He grabbed her arm and forced
her to turn around. He might be angry with her, and she with him, but he wouldn’t
let her leave him like this. “Jess, don’t go.”

“I can’t.” Her voice sounded
strangled. “You made me think you cared for me, Luke.”

“I do care.”

“But you’re under orders to
kill Pop. To kill me, if the Rebs get to me. Did the same apply if I just
refused to help you out?”

He couldn’t tell her the
truth. His orders had been clear, and if she’d run to her mother’s people, she’d
have become a danger they couldn’t afford.

They would have sent
assassins after her if she’d run to her grandfather.

He’d given up so much to
ensure that didn’t happen.

“Listen, Jess—”

“Not right now.” She reached
for the doorknob. “Let me go.”

Never.

He put his hand on the door
to prevent her from opening it. “Stay. Let me explain.” Though even he realized
no explanation he could offer her would be good enough.

“I need to think, Luke.”

“I would never let it come to
that.” His chest tightened. He wanted to say,
I’d die first
, but the words caught in his throat and refused to
come out.

“I can’t be certain of
anything anymore. You chose
them
over
us
once. Who’s to say you won’t do
the same again? Only this time, it’s my life you’d take from me, and not just
my heart.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Let me go.”

He had little choice. If she
stayed in the area, she should be safe enough. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

The silence stretched between
them. “I need time to think.”

Pain flashed in his chest.

She’d set him free once, when
he’d gone to war. He needed to do the same.

He moved away from the door
and opened it for her.

“Come back, Jess.”

She walked out.

The frozen ground crunched
beneath Jessie’s feet, the bite of cold bitter against her skin. She studied
the surrounding landscape and considered all that had happened in the last few
days.

The government Luke had
abandoned her for had ordered her death, if it meant she couldn’t be used
against her father. Even she recognized the bond between Luke and his
team—they were as close as he and Gideon had once been. They would have
gone to hell for one another.

Gideon had.

Things would be no different
with this group.

Which led to the question:
where did Jessie fit in? Luke claimed he wouldn’t let things get that far, but
would he truly betray the government he’d once betrayed her for? Would he
abandon his duty and his honor and choose her life over his orders?

Would she want him to?

Behind her, a shadow trailed
her as she wandered the streets of a wealthy Great Salt Lake neighborhood. For
a split second, her heart skipped and stuttered, until she realized the shadow
following her was Jameson.

She paused, pressing her hand
to her chest as she pretended to admire a particularly pretentious home. Set
back far from the road, surrounded by iron gates, the home was as grand as some
of the finest mansions in Virginia City, large and white. The color
alone—bright white against skies stained dark with soot—spoke of
unspeakable wealth. She shoved her hands into her pockets and waited.

Jameson stopped about thirty
feet away and leaned against a wrought iron lamppost. Jessie pretended not to
notice him, and, after a time, he casually reached into his pocket, pulled out
a cigar, and lit it.

Their eyes met. “Who sent
you?” she called.

Jameson gave her a smile,
left his post, and strolled toward her, his hands in his pockets as if he were
a businessman on a leisurely walk. He stalked up to her, actually circling her
once before pausing beside her. “A lovely home, isn’t it?” Jessie murmured an
assent, and Jameson continued. “Too bad they’re Rebel sympathizers.”