Jared's Runaway Woman

“How dare you,” she demanded, her breath coming in short puffs.

Jared stood still as a stone fortress, expressionless, unmoved by her anger, her outrage.

She stepped closer. “Don’t you ever—ever—come around Sam again. Don’t you ever—”

A smile tugged at the corner of Jared’s lips. Smug. Pleased with himself.

Powerful.

Jared held up a leather-bound book.

Kinsey’s breath left her in a single huff. Her world tilted.

“I’m sure you recognize this. The Templeton family Bible.” He nodded toward her bedroom behind him. “I found it beside your bed.”

Kinsey dug deep, hoping to muster anger. “You have no right…”

Jared stepped closer and fanned the thin pages, stopping in the center of the Bible. “This is the section where the family records are kept. Births, marriages… deaths.”

Run. Run now. The thought flashed in Kinsey’s mind. Yet a chill claimed her, holding her in place.

Jared consulted the page, though it was obvious he didn’t need to. This was a show he reveled in.

“Beth Templeton married to Clark Mason,” he read. “Clark Mason, dead. Beth Templeton Mason, dead.”

Jared looked at Kinsey. “You want to explain to me how that’s possible? I mean, since you’re claiming to be Beth Templeton Mason, the woman I figured was using a different first name and her maiden name.”

He was toying with her. Enjoying the power he had over her. He already knew the answer so Kinsey didn’t respond.

“Funny thing,” Jared said, forcing a little laugh and shaking his head. “According to your family Bible, there really is a Kinsey Templeton. A whole separate person. Adopted by the Templeton family. Beth’s stepsister.”

The weight of the past bore down on Kinsey, crushing not only the moment, but her future as well.

“I—I can explain—”

“You were never married to Clark. You were only his sister-in-law. You didn’t give birth to Sam.” Jared’s expression turned hard and cold. “Or did you?”

Kinsey’s cheeks flamed and she found her anger now. “That’s a filthy thing to suggest. Clark and Beth were devoted to each other. Beth was Sam’s mother.”

“So you’ve got no blood tie to Sam at all, have you,” Jared said.

Kinsey gasped, realizing what he’d just maneuvered her into admitting.

Jared stepped closer. “In fact, you’ve got no family relation to Beth either, do you? You’re her stepsister. A stranger to the family. Somebody they took in.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Kinsey declared. “We were sisters—as close as any sisters could be. We—”

“You’re nothing but an outsider.” Jared moved in, his words cutting worse than a sword. “You’re nobody. You’ve got no standing in Sam’s life. You stole him.”

“I didn’t! Beth begged me to—”

“You stole him and you hid him. You kept him from his real family.”

Jared towered over her, battering her with his words, with his accusations…with the truth.

Kinsey blinked back tears. “You don’t understand! You weren’t there! You didn’t— ”

“I’m taking him.”

Kinsey gasped and shook her head frantically. “No!”

“I’ll get the sheriff if I have to,” Jared told her. He gave her one final hard look, and walked toward the door.

“No!”

Kinsey whipped the gun from his holster. Jared spun around. She pointed it square at his chest and pulled back the hammer.

“You’re not taking Sam anywhere.”

Surprise registered on Jared’s face. He shifted. His gaze bounced from her to the gun, around the room and back to Kinsey once more. She saw his mind working, berating himself for underestimating her, for letting her get the drop on him, for losing the upper hand.

“You’re not taking Sam anywhere,” Kinsey said again, hearing her cold, deliberate words. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. And you have no idea what I’ll do to keep Sam.”

“Look, I—”

“Leave town. Don’t come back,” she told him. “Don’t you ever—”

“Mama?”

The back door opened and Sam walked in.

Jared grabbed the gun from her hand.

A foolish move. It could have gone off, shot him or her, or some innocent bystander. But Jared wasn’t familiar with guns. Kinsey had realized that when she’d seen him fumbling with his holster in the hotel room and it suddenly made sense why he hadn’t joined in the shooting in front of the Wild Cat Saloon the night he’d kissed her in the alley.

That’s how she’d known she could get his gun from him just now.

But she let him have it. She wouldn’t struggle for it. Not with Sam in the room.

The boy looked back and forth between the two of them and alarm showed in his face.

“Mama?”

“It’s fine, honey. Everything’s fine.” Kinsey knelt in front of him and pulled him hard against her. Then she glanced up at Jared and put Sam away from her. “Run on outside again, sweetie. Play with the Gleason boys a while longer. Mama will come get you in a bit.”

Sam gave her a troubled look, but went outside anyway.

Kinsey rose from her feet and turned to Jared. He had the gun. He had the truth.

And now he’d have Sam.

“Make it easy on the boy,” Jared said. “Explain to him what’s happening. I’ll come by for him in the morning. Have him ready.”

Chapter Six

She could run.

The temptation, so deeply ingrained in Kinsey, sprang to her mind the instant Jared had left the kitchen of the boardinghouse. She’d watched from the back porch as he paused for a moment to look at Sam playing with her neighbor’s boys, then moved along. She’d fought the urge to rush into the bedroom, pack their things and head out.

Two things stopped her. One: the stage wouldn’t be through town for a few more days, the train not until the end of the week. She wouldn’t get very far on foot, or even on horseback, should she turn loose of her carefully hoarded money and buy one. Asking someone in town to hide her was unthinkable, given the explanations such a request would require.

Two: Kinsey didn’t want to leave town.

Realizing she and Sam were safe until the following morning when Jared had said he’d return, Kinsey had gone about her chores at the boardinghouse as usual, helping Nell and Lily with supper preparations. Somewhere between peeling the potatoes and serving the apple pie, Kinsey had decided that she didn’t want to be forced out of Crystal Springs. She didn’t want to be on the run again, searching for a new home, making new friends, always looking over her shoulder. She liked it here. She liked her home, her job, Sam’s teacher, his friends, the townsfolk.

Washing up the supper dishes, Kinsey had decided to stay—and keep Sam with her, of course. Now, after tucking him into bed and slipping on her bonnet and wrap, she left the boardinghouse armed with nothing more than a plan.

Yet her plans had kept her and Sam safe for five years, had brought her to this comfortable town, had held the Mason family at bay.

It surprised her a bit that Jared hadn’t known who she was or that the private detective hadn’t discovered it. Apparently, in Clark’s many letters to his family he’d never mentioned her. But why would he? Business, the project he was overseeing, consumed most of his thoughts, as it would any man.

Now she had a plan that would insure that she kept Sam. A plan, Kinsey believed, that Jared Mason, of all people, would understand.

Jared understood power. She’d seen it in him when she’d been in his hotel room. The way he held her arms, the way he blocked her exit from the room. Then at the boardinghouse, the gleam in his eye when he realized that he’d discovered she wasn’t Sam’s mother and that he’d gotten his way, that he’d won.

So if power was what Jared Mason understood, then power was what she’d show him.

Sheriff Isaac Vaughn stood on the little porch in front of the jailhouse staring down Main Street toward the Wild Cat Saloon. It was dark now and the streets were nearly deserted.

Isaac turned to her as she approached. In the dim light she saw the gentle shift in his expression, concern, worry that she was on the streets alone.

Isaac was a big man. Tall, solid. Tough, too. He had to be, given his job as sheriff. Yet Kinsey had never experienced that side of him. To her, Isaac was more an older brother. She’d gotten to know him better since Lily had come to work at the boardinghouse.

“Evening, Mrs. Templeton,” Isaac said, tipping his hat respectfully.

“Good evening, Sheriff,” she answered, standing next to him. “I know it’s late for me to be out alone, but something’s bothering me that I want to discuss with you.”

Isaac shifted. His expression hardened, as if preparing himself for bad news which, as sheriff, he often heard.

“It’s about you and Lily,” Kinsey said.

He seemed to wither slightly, the weight of the troubles with his wife bearing down on him for so long now it seemed difficult for him to stand up under the burden any longer.

Exactly what had driven Lily from the home she shared with Isaac during their three-year marriage had been speculated about by most everyone in Crystal Springs. Everyone had an opinion—it had been the most talked-about incident in town, until the church burned down. It was common knowledge what the two of them had been through, of course, and, collectively, the town’s heart had gone out to them.

Kinsey knew the whole truth, of course. She and Lily had grown close from all the hours they’d spent cooking and cleaning at the boardinghouse, and Lily had confided in her. Kinsey certainly wouldn’t betray Lily’s confidence by tattling to anyone and adding to the gossip that circulated through town about the couple.

“I told Lily when she came to the boardinghouse that I wouldn’t take sides between the two of you,” Kinsey said. “You’ll recall I told you the same.”

Cautiously, Isaac nodded.

“I haven’t said much, one way or the other, to either of you,” Kinsey pointed out. “I’ve listened to Lily’s side of things. Heard her out. Tried to comfort her, tried to be a friend.”

“You’ve been a good friend,” he said, “to both of us.”

Kinsey drewa breath and straightened her shoulders.

“I think that was a mistake on my part,” she told him.

“You do?”

“Yes. The truth is, I never agreed with Lily’s leaving you, moving out of your home, taking a job and living in Nell’s boardinghouse,” Kinsey said, then added softly, “Regardless of the circumstances.”

Isaac winced and glanced away.

“I intend to talk to her, try and convince her to meet with you, find a way for you two to put your lives back together and get over…what happened,” Kinsey said. “I wanted you to know that, Isaac.”

He nodded. “I appreciate that.”

“I should have done it sooner,” Kinsey admitted.

It was true. She’d never agreed with Lily’s decision but had held her tongue, thinking it was better to support her friend. She’d always intended to talk to Lily, make her feelings known.

Only now she had a compelling—no, selfish, she silently admitted—reason to do so.

A long silence stretched between them as Kinsey and the sheriff stood outside the jailhouse. Somewhere a dog barked. A pair of horses plodded down the street and their riders disappeared inside the Wild Cat. Lights burned in the hotel windows down the block and above the stores on Main Street.

Kinsey drew in another breath, summoning her courage.

“That new man in town,” she said, trying to sound casual. “That Mr. Mason staying at the hotel?”

Isaac’s shoulders straightened and his chest expanded. “Did he do something, Kinsey?”

The sheriff’s tone suggested he almost wished Jared had done something. As if Isaac would enjoy nothing more than taking out his pent-up hostility over his wife’s desertion on someone—anyone.

“I was just thinking,” Kinsey said, fighting the urge to twist her fingers together from the outrageous lie she was about to tell, “that Mr. Mason reminded me of that bank robber from Cold Creek whose picture was on the Wanted poster outside your office about a month ago. Did…did you happen to notice a resemblance?”

Isaac eyed her sharply and one eyebrow went up. “I might have.”

“I noticed the poster is gone now,” Kinsey said, waving to the spot behind her where the Wanted posters always hung. “I suppose that means the robber was caught. But, well, I was wondering if the sheriff in Cold Creek is certain he got the right man?”

Isaac stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I could send a telegram, find out for sure.”

“That would be prudent,” Kinsey agreed. “And, I suppose, you might be concerned that, if the robber really is Mr. Mason, that he might…commit another crime.”

Isaac nodded again. “Might be better if I got Mason off the streets.”

“The townsfolk would surely feel safer that way,” Kinsey said. “I know I’d feel safer.”

“I could lock him up.”

“Just until you found out for sure if he’s the robber,” Kinsey said. “Say, until Friday? That’s the day the train comes through. You could take him to the depot, make sure he leaves town—for the safety of the citizens, of course.”

“I could do that,” Isaac declared, his tone indicating that he would enjoy it, too.

“But I wouldn’t want him to get hurt,” Kinsey said quickly. “I know that accidents can happen—anywhere.”

“I’ll make sure Mason doesn’t have any accidents,” Isaac promised.

“Good.” Kinsey paused.

“And he’ll be comfortable.”

“Well, not too comfortable.”

“I’ll take care of the prisoner, don’t you worry.”

“And I’m going to talk to Lily tonight,” Kinsey promised.

They exchanged a look, sealing their unholy bargain. Both of them were desperate. Isaac, to get his wife back, and Kinsey to get Jared Mason out of her life. People pushed into a corner would do anything, and Kinsey and Isaac were no exception, given the high stakes.

Kinsey hurried toward the boardinghouse. She glanced back to see Sheriff Vaughn heading toward the hotel.

For an instant, she almost called him back. What had her life become? What sort of person had she turned into? Arranging to have a man—even Jared Mason—locked up in jail to suit her own needs?

Kinsey’s stomach ached with guilt. She didn’t regret promising to intervene with Lily on the sheriff’s behalf. She truly felt itwas the right thing to do. But as for Jared…

The ache in Kinsey’s stomach rose to grip her heart. Sam. A helpless little boy who’d already lost both of his parents. The tearful vow she’d made to her stepsister as she lay dying.

The ugly truth about the Mason family.

Kinsey drew in a fresh breath. Four days in jail wouldn’t do Jared Mason any real harm. He’d have a roof over his head, three meals a day. He wouldn’t be mistreated. He’d be loaded onto the train and sent packing.

And it would get him out of Kinsey’s life. For a while. Perhaps forever.

Sam would be safe. Beth’s dying wish would be respected. Kinsey would have the kind of life she’d wanted since she was a child.

Her heart ached again, this time in an old, familiar way. Oh, to think that her dearest dream might one day come true…

Kinsey pushed away the thought. She headed back to the boardinghouse.

A night for celebration. No doubt about it.

Jared reared back in his chair and picked up his beer—his third, so far—from the table in front of him. Around him, the dozen or so other patrons of the Wild Cat Saloon drank at the bar, told stories, or played cards. Everyone in a jovial mood.

And none more so than Jared. He tipped up his beer, thoroughly pleased with himself. His gut glowed with the success he’d pulled off today.

He’d gotten Clark’s boy back.

Winning a large contract, edging out the competition for a big job, convincing a supplier to meet the terms Jared dictated, none of his many achievements in the business world even came close to the feeling of accomplishment he felt tonight.

Jared couldn’t believe his good luck. After walking Clark’s son home from school, he’d gone into the boardinghouse intending to find Kinsey and talk to her. He’d found something much more important. The family Bible that had revealed the truth of her past.

He’d been stunned. Damn Pinkerton detective had gotten a key element of his search wrong—dead wrong. No information on a stepsister, on a real Kinsey Templeton in his report. No mention of her in Clark’s letters to any of the family, either.

But Jared had gotten his way, despite the mistake, and that’s all that mattered.

He took another long sip from the foamy beer glass, and once again considered sending a telegram to his family back in New York with the good news that Clark’s son had been found. But Jared disregarded the idea. Better to keep the situation to himself, especially here in Crystal Springs. There was plenty of time for sharing the good news after he and the child were on the train home.

And the two of them would be homeward bound tomorrow. Jared’s gut ached a little as he sipped his beer. Tomorrow, he’d begin to make up for what he’d done, in memory of Clark.

Bright and early, he intended to pick up the boy and head east in a wagon he’d rent from the livery stable. From Cold Creek, he’d take the stage, then meet up with the train at the closest depot.

He didn’t worry that Kinsey would run off with the boy again. Jared had her dead to rights. With no blood claim on the child, and lacking legal authority, there was no way she could justify keeping the boy any longer. Besides, the train and stagecoach were the only way out of Crystal Springs. He couldn’t imagine her running off on foot, dragging the boy and her belongings with her. Jared was reasonably sure she didn’t have the money to buy a horse and wagon either.

So he was set. A little smile pulled at Jared’s lips. He’d be back in New York in plenty of time to get up to Maine, start the new job that awaited him. The project was a big one and Jared was anxious to get it started.

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