Joline's Redemption Page 2

  The facade of the two-story building sported a coat of faded tan paint with windows trimmed in dark green. He needed to hire someone to repaint it while he took inventory and worked on getting the inside cleaned up. He blew out a sigh. Once again he was tasked with cleaning up a mess his brother had made.

  Baron jogged up the stairs and yanked on one of the loose boards that covered the front door. A splinter from the dry, grayed wood pierced his skin and he winced.

  “Can I help you with somethin’, mister?”

  Casting a quick glance at his finger, Baron turned and faced a tall man with a badge on his vest. “Marshal?”

  The man eyed him with a narrow gaze. “Hillborne?”

  Baron nodded. “My last name is Hillborne, but I’m not the man you’re probably thinking of. That was Mark. I’m Baron, his older brother.”

  “Ah … there is quite a resemblance.”

  “Yes, but also a difference.”

  The marshal’s expression relaxed. “Do you plan to reopen the store? Your brother did a brisk business here before he up and left town.”

  “That’s my goal. How soon that happens will depend on the condition of things on the inside.”

  “Well, I ain’t doin’ nuthin’ at the moment, so I can help get these boards off.”

  Baron smiled. “I’d appreciate the assistance, Marshal.”

  “The name’s Bob Myers. Most folks just call me Bob. I reckon you can, too.”

  “Thank you. You’re welcome to call me Baron.” He bit down on the edge of the splinter, pulled it out, and spat it on the ground.

  The marshal yanked on a board, creating a high-pitched screech as the nail pulled loose. “That’s a might fancy moniker, if you ask me.”

  Baron chuckled. “My mother was enamored with British royalty. Mark’s real name is Marquis, like our father’s middle name, but he refuses to use it. He decided he wanted to be called Mark—spelled with a k at the end, not a q—when he was seven, and it stuck. Of course, Mother stubbornly refuses to call him that.”

  The marshal tossed down a plank he’d pried loose. “Guess I’m lucky to be just plain ol’ Bob.”

  “You’re not a Robert?”

  “Nope. My ma believed in short names. My brothers are Sam and Jim.”

  Working together, they had all the boards down in a matter of minutes. Baron pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked the door with a loud click. He pushed open the door while the marshal attacked the boards on one of the windows. A thick layer of dust coated everything, but the store looked intact. “It’s smaller than I expected.”

  “That’s probably because of the size of the town lot,” the marshal offered from the back door. “The lots were mapped out prior to settlement.”

  “I remember Mark writing that in a letter to my parents. My brother was fortunate to win this lot in the land rush.” But then, Mark always loved a challenge.

  He glanced around the dark store. Clothing hung against the wall opposite the counter, tools and work supplies along the front windows, and canned food, cooking supplies, and other housewares sat on shelves on the rear wall.

  He blew out a sigh. Dusting everything and airing out the building would take a while, but he was thankful that no one had broken in and stolen anything. He returned to the porch and started removing the boards from the last window.

  Mark had never said why he left Guthrie in such a hurry, especially with the store being a success. Baron thought he’d stayed just long enough to prove to their father that he was capable of making something of himself, but as usual, Mark had started something and not finished the task. If he had to hazard a guess, Baron figured his leaving had something to do with a woman. It wouldn’t be the first time his brother had run from an upset female. Baron hoped no fuming father saw him and came after him with a rifle, thinking he was Mark.

  “What do you want to do with these boards?” Bob asked.

  Baron shrugged. “I guess we can put them out back.”

  “If you don’t need them, I know a family that lives in a dilapidated shack that could put them to good use.”

  Baron waved his hand in the air. “Help yourself. I’m glad someone else can use them. Once I get the ones off the back windows, you can have those, too.”

  “Tell you what. I’ll take these over to the Borgmans then take a walk around town. If things are quiet, I’ll come back and remove the boards myself. I reckon you have plenty to do inside.”

  Baron’s chest warmed. “That’s mighty kind of you, Marshal.”

  “Bob, remember. And you’ll find most folks in Guthrie are kind.” He leaned against the doorjamb, looking relaxed, but his alert gaze scanned the buildings on the opposite side of the street. “Of course, there are always them that like to cause trouble, and with all the cowpokes that come in town on the weekends, we do get our fair share.”

  Baron grabbed his satchel, anxious to get busy. The sooner he opened the store, the sooner he could make it profitable again. Then maybe he could sell it and go back to St. Louis. Guthrie was much larger than he’d expected, but it was still a young town. He longed for St. Louis and all the amenities it had to offer, especially its electric lights and indoor plumbing.

  He set his satchel inside, found matches and a lantern, and lit it, as well as several others; then he took a walk down the aisles of the store. He had to admit the place was set up better than he’d expected and well stocked with supplies. His brother had done a decent job establishing the store, and he knew from his father that it had made a very nice profit. So what exactly had happened to send Mark packing so quickly that he just up and left everything?

  Though Mark had returned to his wife, he and Abigail had never been truly happy together. Mark quickly lost patience with Abigail, saying all she cared about was owning the latest fashion in gowns and jewelry, and she had confided in Baron that she wished she’d married him instead of Mark. Baron shook his head. Women couldn’t seem to look past his brother’s handsome features and charming personality to see the shallowness of his character. As a Christian, Baron believed character was important, and he always tried to keep his word and treat people with respect. If only his brother did the same, but Mark was cut from a different cloth.

  He snatched a feather duster off a hook in the storeroom and attacked the shelves. He and his brother closely resembled one another in looks, but there was no doubt Mark’s features were more comely. Baron didn’t care, but he despised how his brother used his good looks to charm women and how they all fell under his spell. He’d love to meet one woman who hadn’t been taken in by Mark’s magnetism. Why couldn’t they recognize a snake when they saw one?

  Dust clouded the air. Baron coughed and waved his hand. He’d been so lost in thought he forgot to open the windows. Stomping across the room, he unlocked a window and lifted it up, allowing in the cool spring breeze. He did the same with the next one, but what he really needed was to get the back door open and create a cross breeze.

  He unlocked the door and gave it a shove. Maybe he could jar the boards loose from the inside. After several hard shoulder shoves, the door moved.

  “Hey,” the marshal hollered from the outside of the door, “I thought I was going to clear the boards.”

  Baron chuckled. “The dust was getting to me, so I thought I’d try to break through from this side. I did loosen the boards, but my shoulder is telling me to stop.”

  A few creaks later, the marshal pulled down the last board and opened the door. A refreshing breeze blew through, cooling Baron.

  “Thanks for taking care of that, Bob. Guess I’ll return to my dusting.” He needed to get the store cleaned and up and running again; then he could place a for-sale ad in some area newspapers.

  The sooner he finished things here, the sooner he could go home.

  Jo held her breath as she hugged Jamie against her chest and descended the stairs. Moonlight filtered in through the windows, illuminating her way. She’d chosen the wee hours of the morning to make
her escape because everyone had finally gone to bed. Even Badger should be asleep by now.

  It was now or never.

  She avoided the boards she knew would squeak and hoped that all the jostling wouldn’t awaken her son. He’d be fussy if he did awaken and would probably cry.

  Her heart pounded. Her breath was so ragged she thought certainly someone would hear. She had to make it past Stoney’s room near the back door. She didn’t dare go out the front, because Badger was sure to notice. If Stoney woke up, she hoped he would assume it was one of the ladies on a trek to the outhouse.

  She quietly opened the back door and tiptoed down the stairs and toward the shed where the rented buggy still sat. If she could get the horse hitched, they could easily make their getaway.

  A thought dashed through her mind, and she made a quick turnabout. If Stoney was listening, he would expect to hear the outhouse door. Jo tugged it open, gritting her teeth at the creak.

  A sharp squeal from inside nearly caused her to drop Jamie. Fearing she was caught, she peered in. The moonlight illuminated Sarah, already dressed for the day, staring back at her, wide eyed.

  Jo’s mind raced. Would the girl cry out when she learned what Jo was up to?

  Sarah’s gaze dropped to Jamie. “Why you bring boy to privy?”

  When Jo didn’t answer, the girl’s dark eyes widened further. “You are leaving.”

  Jo nodded. “I can’t give up my son.”

  Sarah stared at her. “You should not have to. Badger is wrong to tell you to.”

  Hope surged through Jo. “You understand?”

  The girl nodded. “A child should not be separated from her mother.”

  Jo didn’t miss the fact that Sarah said her. “Come with me. I was hoping to take you away from this place, too, but I was afraid to tell anyone about my plan. You don’t belong here.”

  The girl shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “There’s no future here. You know where you’ll end up if you stay.”

  “Badger would not—”

  “He would.” Jo stepped closer. “He doesn’t care about any of us. All he wants is money. I don’t want you to endure what I’ve had to. Come with us, Sarah. We’ll be our own family.”

  “You would let me stay with you?”

  Jo nodded. “Of course. You’re like a little sister to me.”

  Nibbling her lower lip, Sarah glanced at the house. Her expression suddenly hardened, and Jo thought for certain the girl would sound an alarm. But Sarah turned her gaze on her for a long moment as if taking her measure, and then she nodded.

  Once again hope warmed Jo’s chest. “Then c’mon. Let’s go before we get caught.” She headed for the barn, silencing the crickets and night creatures. “You can hold Jamie while I hitch the horse to the buggy.”

  Jo reached for the barn door, but Sarah grabbed her arm.

  “We should go in the back.”

  Jo nodded then followed the girl. She’d been to the barn so few times she hadn’t even known there was a rear entrance. The door rattled a bit as Sarah opened it, making Jo grit her teeth. She stayed there, holding it ajar to allow moonlight inside. The horse nickered softly, as if complaining it was too early for a drive. Jo tapped her fingers on the wooden frame, watching the house. If she leaned slightly, she could just make out the edge of the back door. C’mon, Sarah. Hurry.

  From inside the barn, she could hear the jangle of horse tack and movement. The seconds ticked by like hours. Jamie’s steady breaths warmed her face. Jo glanced heavenward. She loved her son enough to do about anything—and that included praying. “God,” she whispered. “If You’re up there, please help us get away. I can’t give up my son. I promise—I’ll even go to church if You’ll help us escape.”

  A noise from inside the barn drew her attention. Sarah appeared, leading the same horse that had pulled the buggy yesterday, but this time the horse was saddled. Was Sarah planning on riding off without her?

  “Why the saddle?” Jo moved in front of the horse to block him.

  “Buggy too slow. We move faster if we ride.”

  “How can we ride with Jamie?”

  Sarah held up a canvas bag and some rope. “I fix.” She held out the reins to Jo, and she took them. Then Sarah lifted Jamie from her arms and laid him on the ground. She made quick work of sliding Jamie, quilt and all, into the burlap, leaving only his face showing, and then she hoisted him up. “You hold boy.”

  Jo held her son to her chest, and Sarah moved behind her and tied Jamie to her, leaving both of Jo’s arms free to guide the horse. The concept was rather ingenious.

  Sarah helped Jo balance atop the chopping block and held the horse’s reins while she clumsily mounted. She knew how to ride, but mounting with a heavy one-year-old attached wasn’t easy. Sarah, holding Jo’s pillowcase that contained Jamie’s diapers and clothing, stepped up on the block and lithely swung up behind her. A lantern flickered to life in Garnet’s room in the closest corner of the house.

  “We go.” The girl kicked the horse.

  Jo barely had time to get situated and gather the reins before the surprised animal broke into a trot. She turned him away from town, and as she did, the back door of the house opened.

  Her heart jolted.

  For the second time that night, she prayed. Let whoever it is think we’re someone from town. Or better yet, please don’t let them hear us.

  Jo guided the horse to the north, keeping the house between them and the person out back. Sarah held on to Jo’s waist. She wanted to gallop but feared the horse might stumble. The animal was their lifeline. Without him, they were doomed.

  When no one cried out, she allowed herself to relax. The money she’d managed to steal from Badger by manipulating the income records weighed heavy in the hem of her skirt. There wasn’t a lot, just enough for food for a few days, but it was something.

  Where should they go? Badger knew people in many of the nearby towns. People who would gladly tell him if they saw her because they knew they’d get a reward.

  There was really only one place she could go, and it was the last place she wanted to go—her sister’s home.

  But Guthrie wasn’t all that far from Oklahoma City. Would Badger find them there? Or would he expect them to ride straight to the depot, catch the train, and go far away? If only they could. At least Gabe and Lara lived a ways out of town. But dare she go there?

  She’d treated her family despicably, especially her older sister. But Lara would forgive her. It wasn’t her nature to hold a grudge.

  She wasn’t so sure about Gabe. He would want to protect his wife from more hurt and might chase her away at gunpoint, because she’d certainly broken her sister’s heart with her childish behavior and cruel treatment. To think, she wouldn’t even stand up with Lara at her wedding.

  She shook her head. If only she’d known then what she knew now.

  Gabe wouldn’t send her away, not once he saw Jamie—and Sarah. She felt certain he would let them stay.

  And if she went home, she could see her nephew, Michael, and Grandpa again—if Grandpa was still alive.

  She rounded the corner of the last house before they hit open prairie. She allowed herself to relax a smidgeon. Suddenly, a privy door banged open. The horse jerked, shying sideways and nearly unseating her. Sarah’s grip tightened on Jo’s waist, and she felt the girl regain her seat.

  A disheveled man stumbled from the privy, gawking at them. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth, eyes brightening. He staggered toward her. “Well now, what have we here?”

  Jo sucked in a breath. She recognized the man from the bordello.

  He stumbled and reached for the reins, missing and falling against Jo’s leg. She tightened the reins and turned the horse in a sharp circle. The man, obviously still drunk, grabbed for her skirts, but he slid away and fell to the ground. She turned the horse away from town. “Hold on tight,” she said, kicking the horse into a trot and then a gallop.

  Had the man
recognized her? Would he run to Badger and tell him he’d seen them? A bead of sweat trickled down her temple in spite of the cool temperatures.

  The sky had already started to lighten, turning a brilliant hue of magenta. Soon the sun would chase away the remaining darkness. No one at the bordello, other than Sarah, normally stirred before noon. But Garnet had awakened. Still, she would have no reason to check Jo’s room. By the time anyone noticed they were missing, they should have a good head start—unless the drunk awakened Badger and reported seeing her. She glanced over her shoulder, relieved to see he was still lying on the ground. Maybe he would fall asleep and think he’d only dreamed about her.

  Unless disturbed, Badger shouldn’t awaken until late afternoon. He had been drinking more than usual last night. He came to her room several times, and each time, she’d been holding or playing with Jamie. In spite of being a gruff, heartless man, he liked her son, but he had ordered Jamie sent away. Although, to be honest, he’d allowed her to keep him far longer than she’d expected.

  Still, she didn’t owe Badger anything. He’d made promises just like Mark, but he, too, had lied.

  She wouldn’t believe there were good men in this world if not for her grandfather. She barely remembered her father, but what memories she did have were good ones. And then there was Gabe. He had been a gambler, but he’d won her sister’s heart—and that was no simple task.

  Jo shook her head. She never wanted another man to touch her. But Jamie deserved a father. She tightened her knees, urging the slowing horse to move faster. Finding Jamie a father wasn’t a topic she wanted to contemplate now.

  First, she had to get him to safety.

  And to do that, she had to go home.

  Chapter 3