Love's Rescue (39 page)

Needing a moment to collect herself, she rose and went to unpack the fruit and bread they’d wrapped among the new clothes for Ambrose.

She paused, gazing down at her brother.

“How do you know he loves me?”

Ambrose smiled. “How could he not, butterfly?”

***

While the three of them savored the repast they’d brought, Jake and Ambrose talked about ranching, cattle, and horses.

Seeing that the guard was looking away, Jess considered him briefly. He was young—young enough to be away from home for the first time. With his pale hair askew beneath his forage cap, he reminded her of Reese or Seth. Feeling her scrutiny, he met her gaze. His eyes were green, like hers, and they seemed to hold a measure of sympathy.

Before Jake and Ambrose had finished eating, the guard was replaced with another. This man looked like he’d rather shoot the three of them than guard them.

Jess saw her chance.

“Ambrose, you haven’t told me a thing about the house. The last time you wrote, you said those mean ol’ Yankees had stopped up all the wells with everything they could lay their hands on.”

Bemused, her brother stared at her.

“Tell me, did they really close off every last well? Surely there must be one left open. Digging another would take an impossibly long time.”

Already bored with what he probably considered bumpkin chatter, the guard rocked on his heels and glared at the opposite wall.

Comprehension dawning, Ambrose gave her a hard look. Jess met him, glare for glare. She meant to do it. She would get him out. For a moment, Ambrose debated, then shifted his gaze to the formidable rancher beside her. Slowly, Ambrose nodded. “There is one well left. I think it’ll be enough to give us a new start.”

“I’m so relieved! Tell me, is it the one near the southernmost paddock? I do so love to go there and watch the foals and their mamas run.”

“No, it’s the one by the northwest paddock, but the fences there have been burned, and though some neighbors are working to repair it, it isn’t safe yet to contain new foals.”

“Then there truly is a great deal of work to be done.”

“Indeed, there is.” Ambrose studied them both. “We would do better to hire some good men to help us get that new start.”

Jake leaned forward. “I’m acquainted with three besides myself who could lend a hand. They’d be willing—and are more than able—to see to those fences for you.”

Ambrose thought for a moment. “That should do.”

While the men exchanged a meaningful nod, Jess glanced around the room and gave a dramatic shiver.

“Oh, Ambrose! How long have you been in this dreadful place?”

“I’ve heard that there are prisons worse than this, and it’s been only two months.”

“Oh, brave Ambrose.” Jess patted his arm. “If I were here, I’d be terrified to sleep at night.”

For the rest of the afternoon, Ambrose, Jake, and Jess reflected over the course of the war until the guard finally stated that it was time for the visitors to leave.

Jess stood up, her heart beginning to pound. The simpler part of their plan was over. From here, their lives would be at stake. Wordlessly, she took her straw hat from Jake.

In the hallway, flanked again by a pair of guards, Ambrose quietly accepted the gift of clothing from his sister. The new trousers and coat were coal-gray and black—colors that would help him blend into the night.

Jess stared up at her brother, struggling not to show her fear. Like a dutiful sister, she kissed his cheek, but she couldn’t convince herself to let him go.

After a moment, she felt a hand on her arm. Gently but firmly, Jake drew her away from Ambrose. “He has to go now, Jess,” he murmured.

Jess took Jake’s arm absently, letting him guide her back the way they had come, but she turned back before Ambrose was out of sight.

At the far door, Ambrose was standing between the guards, looking back at her.

He raised his voice so she could hear him. “The Lord has a plan, Jess,” he called, just as he had years ago from the stagecoach that carried him away from Carson City. “Remember that.”

***

Jess’s tenacity, Jake thought, had returned with a vengeance. He walked her to the buggy, certain his arm bore indelible nail marks.

Jake watched her expression as he helped her into the seat and then climbed in beside her. All traces of worry had vanished. She looked like a loaded cannon, primed to fire.

It was about time.

***

When they gathered in Jake’s room that night, Taggart confirmed what Ambrose had said about the fence. “There are lads workin’ to board up the holes—twenty or more comin’ and goin’, nice as ye please. A man can walk right out.”

“Holes?” Jess considered that. “How many places are there to come through the fence?”

“Three remain, mariposa,” Diaz said. “The fence burned and was torn down. It is only now that they build it again.”

Jake and Jess exchanged a look, and Jake nodded once. “Ambrose told us the same. That’s our way in. Taggart?”

“Southern lads are not the only ones taken ill with smallpox. Fewer than five hundred guards are well enough to stand their posts. Of those, many are off searchin’ for their own deserters. I figure a dozen or less’ll be patrollin’ the fence tonight, beside those in the sentry boxes above.”

Jess glanced around. Reese frowned thoughtfully.

“With all the prisoners,” Diaz said, “one of us may get in, but how will we find the one man we’re looking for?”

“Jess’s brother knows we’re coming. He’ll find us,” Jake answered. “The moon’s a mere crescent, so once we get there, it’ll be hard for us to see one another.”

Diaz grinned. “It will be even harder for the soldiers to see us.”

“That, boys, is our advantage.” Jake glanced at Jess. “We’ll go in slow and quiet. I don’t want any gunfire if we can avoid it.”

“Why look at me when you say that, Bennett?” Jess asked, batting her eyelashes innocently.

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I don’t want you going down in history as the woman who started a battle at Camp Douglas prison.”

Jess heard the underlying warning through his tease, and she took it to heart. She did not want to be the cause of any injuries—or deaths.

Jake turned to the others. “Before we leave, we’ll need to wrap strips of cloth through the horses’ bit rings, the links of the harnesses—anything that makes even the slightest noise. No one wears spurs, and we’ll have to cover up silver buckles and ornaments that might catch the light. Anything else?”

When no one answered, Jess pushed herself to her feet. “Well, it’s settled, then. I’ll go in and get Ambrose.”

“What?” The question came from every man in the room.

Jess was not put out. After all this time, she had learned from Jake how to reason calmly. “It makes sense. I know what he looks like, and I can pass as a young man.”

“No.” Jake’s face had turned to stone. “I’m going in.”

Jess gave a derisive laugh. “You’d stand out like Gulliver among the Lilliputians.”

A small argument erupted. Taggart announced he’d shave his flame-hued beard and go in. Diaz denied the significance of his skin color. And Jake declared over the clamor that he would slip through the fence.

A quiet voice broke through the debate. “I’ll go in and get your brother for you, Miss Jess.”

There was a stunned silence. All eyes swung to Reese.

“I don’t know what Lilliputians are,” Reese said, “but I do know this. The boss there would stand out for certain, like you said. It don’t matter none how much orange Taggart parts with; if he had to run, those Yankees’d hear him huffing like a steam train and find him. Diaz…Diaz don’t look like no Southerner I ever saw, and there ain’t no way a one of us is going to let you go through that fence, Miss Jess. The folks at the ranch would never forgive us if we came back without you.”

Jess sat back down, her expression intentionally blank. She was grateful for his loyalty, but she alone bore the weight of responsibility for them all. She had wanted to come east, she had wanted to break Ambrose out. She would not send anyone else inside a military prison. The boy had already been knifed.

Reese continued. “Now I ain’t too tall, I don’t stand out, and Diaz there has taken to calling me Sticks, which means I’m skinny enough to look like one of them fellers who’ve been living on army food for the past couple of years.” The other men considered his point. His eyes cut to Jake.

“Diaz and Taggart and I are the ones who spent the day studyin’ the fence line and the lay of the land around. Any one of us knows better than either of you how to go about getting in and out, and Miss Jess can tell me what her brother looks like.” His gaze fell on both Jake and Jess. “And I’ll feel a whole lot better knowing the two of you are watching my back. There ain’t nobody what can shoot better.”

Jake stared at Reese. “Reese is right,” he finally admitted, acknowledging the wisdom of his plan.

Jess looked away, refusing to comment.

“He’s the only one who might blend in among the prisoners without drawing notice,” Jake went on. “He knows the dangers. He’s steady. He pays attention, and he speaks a little like a Southerner. If he’s questioned by a guard, he could pass as a Confederate.” He faced Reese. “You’ve done the job of a man too long to be treated like a boy now. Your decision takes guts, and it’s the right one. We’ll all make sure you come out safely.”

That decided, Jake leaned forward and pulled out his notebook. He opened it to a blank page, on which he sketched out the prison walls. The men discussed where each of them would take position.

Jess sat back from the others, mentally spinning out a plan of her own.

At last, Jake recommended they all break to get a few hours’ rest before starting out. Jess felt his eyes on her as she rose with the others, and she forced herself to make appropriate chatter as everyone left his room.

In her own room again, Jess locked the door, then stripped off her gown and petticoats. Instead of resting, she pulled on a flannel shirt, britches, and a pair of boots. Combing the curls from her hair, she then braided it and gathered every last strand under her hat.

Suddenly, Jess paused, alert. She had heard a noise in the hall that sounded like a floorboard creaking. For several minutes, she stood motionless. All was silent.

Jess collected her saddlebags and laid them on the bed, tossing the dress aside. She was going to get her brother, and she didn’t need any extra weight slowing down the horse.

Finally, she pulled on her gun belt and checked the loading of her revolver.

When enough time had passed for Jake and the others to fall asleep, Jess shouldered her saddlebags and left the room. She tread lightly past Jake’s closed door, listening for sounds of stirring within. None.

Jess stole down the stairs.

At the livery stable, she went immediately to the corral, where a dozen or so horses stood resting. She moved along the fence, looking from one animal to the next, searching for the markings that would identify her horse. It wasn’t there.

Realizing that it had been put in a stall, Jess went around to the front of the barn, lifted the latch, and pushed open the giant door.

Shadows vanished as starlight spread over the floor of the barn—and over its occupants.

There before her, looking as vengeful as the four horsemen of the Apocalypse, stood Jake and the cattlemen.

Jess glared at them, unable to hide her anger. “How did you know?”

Diaz crossed his arms as if contemplating a creature of great interest. “La mandíbula.”

“What?” She was seething.

Jake’s handsome face softened with a smile. “Your jaw, Miss Hale. It stiffens only when you’re digging in your heels about something. You looked exactly like that when you and the others left my room.”

Diaz said, “You think we would let you go by yourself, mariposa? Never. We will let no harm come to you.”

Jess attempted the glare again. It fell markedly short. “I’m responsible for your being here. I don’t intend to let any of you come to harm.”

“Ye hardly made us come, Jess,” Taggart pointed out. “As I recall it, ye had—how did ye say it, boss? Little choice in the matter.”

Reese grinned. “And I don’t see as how you have any say now.”

Her resistance failing, her eyes searched their faces, finally resting on Jake.

The other three discreetly stepped back.

“So, now what?” she asked Jake softly.

“Now we go get your brother.”

Jess let out a combination of a chuckle and a sob. Jake pulled her gently against him.

“I love you, Jess,” he said.

She smiled into his shoulder. “I know. And I love you—”

“Wait!” He took a step back. “Look at me when you say that, or it seems like you’re talking to my shirt.”

She laughed, fastening her eyes on his. “I love you, Jake Bennett.”

Though his face spoke his delight, his hands settled sternly on his hips. “You know, it’s taken you long enough to say it.”

“I should have, long before now.”

With these confessions behind them, they quietly prepared their horses to ride. Jess could sense the men’s tension in addition to her own as they mentally prepared themselves for the next few hours and the challenges they would bring.

The horses picked up on the heightened emotions of the group. They shifted about as bits were slid over teeth, bridles were buckled, and cinches were pulled tight. The cavernous barn echoed with the whir of cylinders and the rasp of leather as the men checked their loading and holstered their guns. Finally, hat cords were tightened and stirrups creaked as the riders stepped into their saddles.

Outside, Jake pushed the barn door closed.

“Which way we headin’ out afterward?” Reese asked.

“Straight back the way we came,” Jake said. “When we leave the prison, head west. We won’t be returning to Chicago. I want Ambrose to ride with either Jess or Reese. They’re the lightest. After we have him, there’s no telling how things will unravel. We’ll have to cover one another, and no one rides out alone. We stay in twos, at the very least. My pa’s farm is a ten-hour ride at a lope, just north of that red bridge we passed coming here. His is the only drive lined with oak trees. Get back there anyway you have to. Just don’t let anyone follow you there.”