Page 14 of Chloe's Christmas Escape
Jackson shook his head. He didn’t know how long they’d been sitting like that, so he couldn’t tell his uncle anything.
“That’s good. She didn’t sleep well on the stage. When she could rest, she woke herself screaming a few times even.”
His heart ached as he watched her, wishing he could save her from the invisible walls of sadness that seemed to close in around her. He was all too familiar with this feeling himself—of being powerless to do anything about his own dreams and ambitions, hoping desperately for someone to help him break free.
“Higgins said they’re serving lunch soon. I can bring something up for you, so you don’t have to go down.” Mac handed over a large paper-wrapped package and took a step back.
“What’s this?”
“I’m not taking the girl’s money. There are several types of fabrics for her. The merchant’s wife called them quilting squares. I had her select several yards of lacing thread and a tatting bobbin. There’re even a few skeins of some fancy yarn. Oh, I got her a new set of hooks,” Mac added as an afterthought. “We’ll call it a wedding present.”
Jackson nodded, thankful for the gift. Words clogged his throat, so he held up a finger and quietly set the gift at the end of the bed, before pocketing the key for the room.Stepping into the hall, he eased the door closed with barely a sound and nodded towards the stairs. She would sleep for a while longer and was safe in the boarding house.
Lunch with his uncle seemed like just what he needed right now.
“Are you still leaving in the morning?” Jackson stepped up to the sideboard, grabbed a plate from the stack, and studied the various options. His gaze settled on the thick slices of ham resting on a wooden plate. He picked up two slices with his fingers, dropping them onto a slice of white bread, then continued down the line. He noted the offerings and made a note of the blander options to take up to Chloe when he returned. Adding several pickles to his plate, he moved to the empty table.
“Nope,” Uncle Mac coughed, carefully not looking at him. “I’m leaving tonight. I’m going to ride back on the Wells Fargo coach.”
The hair on the back of Jackson’s neck stood on end in warning. “Trouble?”
“There’s been another murder. A girl that looks remarkably like the one upstairs.” Mac paused for a moment. “No relation to her. But you best be leaving in the morning.”
Jackson glanced around the dining room. It was empty, and he realized he hadn’t seen another boarder since the stage arrived that morning.
“Do you think they’re going to follow us?”
“If they knew she left town, they wouldn’t be killing lookalikes.” Mac stabbed a piece of meat and added it to his plate before joining Jackson at the table. “I don’t like the feel of this.”
Jackson thought about what Mac said. Sometimes gut instinct was all you had to work with in this line of work. “Then we’ll head home in the morning.”The sandwich he’d been enjoying now tasted like sawdust. So much for easing her into things and letting her rest for a bit.
“I’ll sort the tickets before I leave.” Mac glanced at the kitchen door. “It sounds like they’re planning a celebration for you tonight.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Mrs. Higgins.” The woman lived vicariously through her guests, and he admired the way the couple could read a room.
“Do you know who’s responsible?”
Mac put his plate on the table and plopped down in his seat with a loud thump. “There’s a family who seem to think they run the town. With the new steel mill going up, the violence is escalating.”
“We could leave her here and I could go back with you.”
“No. I made a promise to her father. I have men, and we’ll get it under control. Sometimes these things take time. If they’re going after the money in town, they’re going to end up at your father-in-law’s door soon enough.”
“What do you mean?” Jackson got up to grab the coffeepot and two mugs. When he returned the coffeepot to the sideboard, he snatched a small plate of cookies that were set out for dessert.
“Kingston owns the mines. The mill needs mines. Those avaricious rascals want the mill. Which means they’re going to want the mines soon enough.”
“Dancing donkeys, Uncle Mac.” Jackson ran his calloused hand over the back of his neck, contemplating how far-removed Chloe’s wealth was from his own meager lifestyle. He knew she had money, but he never imagined her family could have that much money. He shook his head, the enormity of it registering. “You married me off to an heiress?”
“No. No. You married an heiress all by yourself. I just offered the introduction.” Mac laughed, stacking his dishes before abandoning the table. “I have things to do. You go on back before she realizes you left her. I hear women aren’t fond of that sort of thing.”
Jackson watched his uncle Mac with a mixture of confusion and admiration as he walked away. He noticed the way Mac’s back seemed to shrink as he slid out the door, and for the first time Jackson saw a yellow streak in the man who had always been larger than life.
An heiress married to a farm kid from Nebraska.
It was almost too bizarre to comprehend. Jackson stared at the ceiling, feeling like God was playing a trick on him.
Chloe woke with a start, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness of the room. Someone had covered her with a light quilt.
