Читать книгу Shotgun Marriage - Danica Favorite - Страница 9
ОглавлениеLeadville, CO, 1881
“Did you hear he spent their wedding night in a brothel...” The whispers came from one of the pews to Emma Jane Logan Jackson’s left. But as she looked in the direction of the sound, all she saw were pious young women seemingly engrossed in their Bibles.
Jasper reached over and patted her hand. “Ignore them,” he said quietly, clasping the fingers that rested in the crook of his arm and giving them a gentle squeeze. Odd to be receiving this small amount of comfort from the virtual stranger she’d just recently married. He’d barely talked to her, let alone touched her, since their wedding two weeks ago.
Ignoring the gossip was easy enough for him to say. He was Jasper Jackson, son of the richest man in Leadville. But Emma Jane? She’d spent her whole life the laughingstock of town.
Smoothing the delicate fabric of the pale blue silk dress her mother-in-law had purchased for her, Emma Jane remembered all the times she’d wished for finer clothes to wear to church. She’d been wrong in thinking a new dress would keep the other women from talking about her. Whether it had been the poorly mended hand-me-downs, her father’s drinking, her mother’s antics in trying to make their family more respectable and even Emma Jane’s own awkwardness, people always found a way to make fun of her.
All she’d ever wanted was to find respectability in the town’s eyes, but even with marriage to Leadville’s most eligible bachelor, it eluded her.
“I thought getting married was supposed to stop all the talk,” Emma Jane whispered back.
Jasper squeezed her hand again. “It will be all right. Eventually some other scandal will hit town, and they’ll forget all about the circumstances of our nuptials. Soon enough, they’ll be begging to be invited to tea because they can’t resist the Jackson fortune.”
His emphasis on the words the Jackson fortune made Emma Jane stop and look at him. Her strikingly handsome husband, with his dark good looks, seemed almost bitter, like he resented having so much wealth. Surely being well-to-do was a good thing. With her father’s rising and falling fortunes, she knew both what it was like to be in plenty and in want, and frankly, she’d much rather have the plenty.
“What do you expect from a marriage practically forced on him by a scheming...”
Emma Jane turned in the direction of the voice, but all she saw was a group of women demurely peeking behind their fans. She squared her shoulders, straightened her back and gave them all a tight little smile. The only scheming going on was among the other women and their nasty gossip.
Jasper tugged at her hand again. “It’s not worth it. They’re just jealous because they aren’t Mrs. Jasper Jackson.”
More of the bitter tone as he emphasized Mrs. Jasper Jackson.
“You seem...” Emma Jane struggled for a descriptor that might induce her reticent husband to talk to her about it.
His lips turned upward in a smile that looked to be more painful than the effort was worth. “It’s no secret that every woman in town wanted to marry me.” He snorted. “Or, at least, they wanted to marry my fortune.”
Then he looked down at her, his dark brow creasing. “I’m sorry. I know our marriage benefited your family financially. I didn’t mean to insult you.”
She couldn’t give an answer to that, even if he’d wanted her to. The truth was, her family had insisted on the marriage, more for the funds it would bring to their coffers than any cares for Emma Jane’s reputation. Her father had gambled away her sister Gracie’s hand to settle a debt, and the only way to save Gracie from marriage to the town’s most odious man had been for Emma Jane to marry into wealth. Her mother had come up with a scheme for Emma Jane to trap Jasper into marriage, but Emma Jane hadn’t been able to go through with it.
Fortunately for the Logan family, Emma Jane’s clumsiness took over where her conscience wouldn’t let her act. She’d ended up trapped overnight in a mine with Jasper. Emma Jane’s reputation at stake, marriage to Jasper was the only solution. Her family caused such a fuss that the Jacksons were glad to give them whatever funds necessary to avoid any further embarrassment. Emma Jane’s family left town shortly after the wedding, pockets full of Jasper’s money.
No wonder he was bitter.
Jasper cleared his throat. “It just would be nice, you know, if people cared about what I wanted to do with my life.”
“Forgive me,” Emma Jane said softly, pulling her hand out of his arm, then she tugged at the lace edging on the sleeve of her dress.
She hadn’t considered what their marriage had cost Jasper. Nor had she thought about what he’d wanted. Her parents had browbeat her into the marriage, and because it was what Emma Jane had always done, she’d meekly agreed.
“No, forgive me.” Jasper took her hand again and settled it back into the crook of his arm. “It was a thoughtless remark. You had as little choice in the matter as I did. Honestly, my frustration isn’t even about that. I just can’t stand the way everyone is so concerned with trivial matters.”
Now that Emma Jane could understand. “We should find our seats,” she said, tugging at her husband’s arm.
“You go on. I see the sheriff has arrived.”
Jasper’s brow furrowed, and the line between his eyes had deepened. His thick, dark hair flopped over, seeming to have ignored the way he’d slicked it back earlier this morning.
“Is everything all right?” She followed his gaze and noticed Sheriff Calhoune standing on the other side of the church.
“We’re tracking down some of the bandits who got away the night of the brothel fire. I’m hoping he has some leads. This town’s not safe with scoundrels like them on the loose.”
The brothel fire. Jasper had spent their wedding night helping their friend, Will Lawson, rescue an innocent young lady from the clutches of a gang of bandits. During the rescue, the brothel had gone up in flames, creating chaos in their community. With Jasper’s scornful words about no one caring about what he wanted, it seemed wrong to prevent him from speaking with the sheriff. Even if church was about to start.
“I’ll see you at our seat,” she said.
Jasper gave a quick nod before turning away.
Polite strangers, that’s what they were. And while part of her yearned to know more about this enigmatic man she married, she couldn’t bear to impose on him any more than she already had.
“Don’t be a bother, Emma Jane.” Her mother’s words echoed in her head. Day and night, she’d worked so hard to not be. But because of her, Jasper was in a marriage he didn’t want. How could she ask him to give more than he already had?
The sound of giggles to her right drew Emma Jane’s attention. A beautiful baby girl, with golden hair and dressed in a pretty lace dress, bounced on a woman’s lap.
“Your baby is darling,” Emma Jane said to the woman, who gave her a smile in return.
“Thank you.”
“What’s her name?”
“Hannah.”
“What a lovely name. I’m Emma Jane...” She paused at the introduction. No longer Logan, it didn’t seem right to call herself Jackson, either.
Would being married ever seem normal?
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Pamela Woodward.” The baby reached in Emma Jane’s direction. “Would you like to hold her?”
Emma Jane automatically took Hannah in her arms, breathing in the soft powdery scent. Her heart warmed as the baby immediately snuggled up to her.
Hannah pulled at the collar on Emma Jane’s dress, and Emma Jane gently took the baby’s tiny hands in hers. Such a sweet child.
Which was when it hit her. Married to Jasper, there would be no children. He’d told her, just before they were married, that theirs was to be a marriage in name only.
“If it isn’t the town harlot, stealing other women’s beaus and tricking them into marriage.” Flora Montgomery nudged Emma Jane as she passed, giving her a haughty glare, then turned to the baby’s mother. “It’s very brave of you, letting a woman like her hold your baby. But perhaps you haven’t heard...”
With the pain of not having children heavy in her mind, Emma Jane handed the baby back to her mother. “Thank you for letting me hold Hannah. She is a dear.”
She turned to leave to avoid making a scene, but Flora blocked her path.
“You haven’t heard about our dear Emma Jane, have you?”
Pamela’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve been in Denver, visiting my parents.”
“After the church picnic, we were caught in a terrible storm,” Flora said. “Jasper found shelter for us at a nearby farm. When we were supposed to be getting ready to bed down for the night, Emma Jane lured him outside, then pushed him into an abandoned mine. She jumped in, and when they were found the next morning, her dress was in tatters.”
“I did no such thing!” Emma Jane had gone for a walk to clear her head after listening to Flora’s taunts. Well, all right, she’d run out of the barn crying. But Flora had been particularly cruel, telling the other girls that Emma Jane was going to be sold into a brothel. Not that Emma Jane would ever admit to Flora how those horrible rumors had affected her. For whatever reason, Flora had always picked on Emma Jane—had done so ever since they were in school together. Though Emma Jane had often wished she knew what she’d done to offend the other girl, mostly Emma Jane wished Flora would just leave her alone.
Emma Jane straightened her shoulders. “I’d gone for a walk and fallen into an abandoned mine. I had no idea Jasper was out there. He heard my cries for help and, in trying to rescue me, fell in, too.”
She looked at Pamela, hoping she’d be sympathetic. “Truly, it was all just a terrible accident, and nothing untoward happened. Pastor Lassiter married us himself, and he would never have done so had any real harm been done.”
The woman nodded slowly. But Flora wasn’t finished yet. She gave Emma Jane a nasty smile, baring the points of her teeth before turning to the baby’s mother. “I’m sure that’s what Emma Jane would like people to believe. But Mrs. Jackson told me herself. The Logans would have ruined them. They told the sheriff that Jasper...” Flora lowered her voice. “Took liberties.”
“Jasper would never do that!” Emma Jane stared at the other girl, horrified that she would spread such vicious lies about Jasper.
“Of course he wouldn’t.” Flora’s voice lacked any kindness. “No man would even consider you in that way. You are, after all, most unfortunate in your appearance.”
The pitying look Flora gave Emma Jane made her realize that not even the finest dress would ever make her pretty. After all, Flora was the very picture of everything a woman ought to be, with her golden blond curls and bright blue eyes. Emma Jane’s hair was also blond, her eyes blue. But the blond was stringy and streaked with brown, and the girls used to tease her that it must be dirty. And her blue eyes had brown flecks in them that Flora had said came from being evil.
Even though Emma Jane knew in her head that Flora’s accusations weren’t true, it didn’t make the cold lump in the pit of her stomach go away.
Flora was right about one thing, however. She had nothing to attract a man like Jasper into wanting to be her husband.
Still, the dig on Emma Jane’s appearance was not enough for Flora, whose eyes glittered with a kind of blood lust.
“But what I don’t understand is why you went along with the lies, unless, of course, you were telling them yourself.”
A sickeningly sweet smile followed Flora’s last statement, and she turned her attention back toward Pamela. “Jasper was so disappointed about being railroaded into the marriage that he spent the night...” Flora looked around, then lowered her voice. “In a place of ill repute.”
The fact which every woman in church was still whispering about. But they didn’t have the whole story.
“He was helping Will Lawson—a lawman—rescue an innocent young lady from the clutches of an outlaw.” Emma Jane spoke louder than was polite, but hopefully some of the other gossiping women would finally hear the truth.
“So you say.” Flora flipped open her fan, then smiled at Pamela. “I just thought I’d warn you so you understood why none of the good families in Leadville are extending invitations to this woman. Bad company corrupting good character and all that.”
With a final nasty grin, Flora flounced over to her seat in a pew a few rows up. Emma Jane gave the woman they’d been talking to a weak smile. “I’m sorry you were dragged into this. I sincerely appreciate your kindness to me, and I assure you that I’ve been nothing but honest with you.”
The woman’s noncommittal murmur spoke volumes. Flora’s words had poisoned any hope Emma Jane had of even being able to delight in someone else’s child.
Then Emma Jane spotted Mrs. Jackson heading in her direction.
“Stop dawdling.” Jasper’s mother took Emma Jane by the elbow. “We are to be an example for the rest of the church, and you’re making a spectacle of yourself.”
“Yes, Mrs. Jackson.”
Face heated, she sat in the Jackson pew where Mrs. Jackson indicated, trying to enjoy the feel of the velvet cushions rather than the hard wooden benches the rest of the church endured. Mr. Jackson, Jasper’s father, leaned into Emma Jane. “Where’s Jasper?”
“He went to talk to the sheriff,” she answered, further conversation being cut off by the sound of the organ’s first chords.
After the hymns, Pastor Lassiter spoke, sharing the need for the church community to continue to rally around the women who’d been displaced in the brothel fire. While some of the women had moved on to other houses of ill repute, many had nowhere else to go.
Emma Jane tried to focus her attention back on the pastor’s sermon, but she found herself unable to think beyond the poor women who’d been left homeless. Like Emma Jane, they were deemed unworthy and unlovable by the rest of society.
And yet, not one of them judged Emma Jane for the disgraced circumstances of being forced to marry. They all treated Emma Jane like she was a real lady, worthy of respect. Emma Jane had even become friends with a colorful woman named Nancy.
Emma Jane twisted around to see if Nancy had shown up at the church yet. The so-called fallen women often arrived after the service started, leaving before it ended to avoid ridicule.
Marriage hadn’t brought Emma Jane any closer to finding respectability, but perhaps helping with the pastor’s ministry, people would finally see her as a good Christian woman. Maybe then she would finally have the acceptance that had eluded her for most of her life.
* * *
Jasper Jackson stood at the back of the church, listening as Pastor Lassiter concluded his sermon. He hadn’t intended to miss church, but he’d been caught up in talking to the sheriff to figure out their next move.
The newly acquired badge heavy in his pocket, Jasper couldn’t help but touch it one more time. Him. A deputy. All his life, he’d wanted to do something important, but every time he tried to find his significance, his mother cited the need to carry on the Jackson legacy. She’d sob and tell him she’d been lucky to have even him, and he couldn’t spoil it by...well, she’d have a fit of vapors for sure when he shared his news.
But this time, he would not be swayed.
A woman had died saving Jasper’s life the night of the brothel fire. In the heat of an argument with the bandits, Jasper had acted foolishly, and the bandits started firing on them. Mel pushed him out of the way, getting shot in the process. Mel. A woman of the night. Not the kind of woman a man owed any kind of honor to, but she’d done the most honorable thing a person could do—she’d taken a bullet meant for him. He’d promised Mel that he’d find and rescue her sister, Daisy, from the gang of bandits that held her. The same gang who’d killed Mel.
No, his honor wasn’t at stake. It was his very soul. Or at least it felt that way as church let out and his new bride, Emma Jane, approached, her delicate features unmarred by the thoughts that plagued him. He had to admit that she was a lovely woman. He’d done the honorable thing by marrying her, but until he completed his mission in keeping his promise to Mel, he would have no peace in his own heart.
“Hello, Jasper.” Emma Jane gave him a weak smile. “Your mother—”
“There you are!” Before Emma Jane could finish her sentence, his mother stepped in between them. “Why didn’t you sit with us?”
Jasper cringed. The Jacksons weren’t typically confrontational, especially in public. But the only way he was going to be able to share his decision without encountering hysterics was to do it now.
“The sheriff was here, so I went to talk to him about the latest news on the bandits. I thought it would be a few days, but he decided to swear me in as a deputy today.”
He never imagined that Emma Jane Logan’s face would be the one to keep him calm. Until he realized that she wasn’t Emma Jane Logan anymore. Jasper exhaled slowly, trying to let go of the inevitable tightness in his chest that always seemed to come at the reminder of his marriage. At least she didn’t appear to be standing in the way of the one decision he’d gotten to make about his own life.
Of course, Emma Jane had what she wanted—his name and fortune. Though she’d insisted that the events leading to their marriage were not intentional, he couldn’t forget the sound of her mother congratulating her on a job well-done. The woman had practically cackled with glee as she’d told Emma Jane that luring him to the abandoned mine had been masterful.
Marriage to Emma Jane would have been a whole lot easier had he continued to believe it was all an accident. He’d even thought, in their time at the church picnic, they’d become friends. But friends trusted each other, and Emma Jane should have trusted him when he’d told her that he’d find a way to save her family without her having to get married. Perhaps, in supporting his cause, Emma Jane could make up for taking away one of the most important choices a man had in life.
A stolen glance at his parents revealed they’d both turned odd shades of red—to be expected, of course—but part of him wished they’d have come forward to say they were proud of him.
No, it was Emma Jane who first spoke up.
“After everything that happened with the brothel burning down, I can understand your desire to bring justice.” She gave a small smile. “I’ve been thinking I should do more to help Pastor Lassiter’s ministry to the women rescued from the fire.”
Her words shouldn’t have surprised him. After all, aiding the less fortunate was what their church was about. Or, at least, that’s what people said their church was about. He’d seen many of the young ladies pay lip service to helping others, but none ever seemed to put those words into action. Except Emma Jane. He didn’t know her well, yet he could remember seeing her a number of times at other church events, helping out.
“Nonsense,” his mother snapped. “We’ll give the pastor some money, just as we always do, and that will be that.”
Then she turned her attention to Jasper. “I hardly know what’s gotten into you. Your unfortunate marriage, chasing bandits—I can’t imagine what you’ll do next.”
He recoiled at his mother’s description of his marriage. Especially when he noticed the pained look on Emma Jane’s face. Why he was so concerned about his young wife’s feelings, he didn’t know, especially when the larger issue at stake was his ability to follow his dreams. No, his mission was bigger than a dream. Innocent lives were at stake.
Ignoring his mother, Jasper turned to his father. “I am alive today because of the noble sacrifice of a woman who only wanted her sister to be saved. If I don’t help bring these men to justice, who will? If I continue to live with no other purpose than to entertain Mother’s guests, then really, what was the point of a woman dying in my place?”
Then, taking another deep breath to dispel the inevitable lump that filled his throat when talking about Emma Jane, Jasper addressed his mother. “It would do you credit to remember that if it hadn’t been for Emma Jane pushing me out of the way of the mine caving in, I’d be dead. She put her safety in jeopardy for mine, and I will always be grateful.”
His life had been saved twice in a matter of weeks. By women. Perhaps, as much as he reminded his mother of his debt to Emma Jane, he needed to remind himself of it, as well. She risked her life for him. If marriage was the price he’d had to pay, so be it.
“Regardless of what happened in that mine, we both know you’d have had to have married her, anyway,” Constance snapped.
Jasper swallowed. True, of course, but Emma Jane’s sacrifice had somehow made his own more palatable. Even if the mine hadn’t caved in, they would have both been gone long enough that their returning together—after being out alone in the pitch-dark—would have caused tongues to wag. But once they’d been trapped in the mine, marriage had been a foregone conclusion.
And as he watched Emma Jane’s lower lip quiver, he couldn’t help but wonder how much she regretted the cost of their marriage.
“What’s done is done,” Jasper said quietly, looking at Emma Jane. “And it’s time we made the best of it.”
His words didn’t erase the sadness from her eyes, and while Jasper wished there was something else to be done, he knew that the distance between them wasn’t going to be bridged by a few words.
As grateful as he was for Emma Jane saving his life, the sting of her betrayal was still too deep, the pain too fresh. When she’d approached him at the church picnic and told him that her mother wanted her to marry him to restore the money her father had lost in a poker game, he told her that he’d help her find a solution that didn’t involve marriage. Emma Jane had said she was willing to trust him. But she’d lured him out to the abandoned mine, anyway. Obviously, she’d heard him say he needed to go clear his head, and gone out on her own. Of course he’d answer her cries for help. She couldn’t have known how dangerous it would be, or that the rains would have weakened the ground to cause a cave-in. He wasn’t even sure that she’d known the mine was there.
Regardless, Emma Jane had to have known that being alone with him, outside in the dark, was enough to compromise them both. For that, he blamed her.
So why, as tears shone in Emma Jane’s eyes, could he not bring himself to hate her?
Maybe it was because, as he had just told his mother, they couldn’t do anything about the past. All they could do was move on. Jasper was trying, he really was, and maybe someday he could hold more firmly to his resolve to look ahead rather than be afflicted by questions he would probably never find answers to.
“We should take this conversation somewhere more private,” Jasper’s father said, gesturing toward Pastor Lassiter’s empty office.
Jasper looked around, realizing for the first time that while many of the churchgoers had exited, there were still enough people milling around that seeking privacy was a wise decision. He followed his father into the pastor’s office, waiting until his mother and Emma Jane had entered the room before closing the door behind them. Pastor Lassiter wouldn’t mind if they used his office while he was busy conversing with folks leaving the church.
“I meant what I said about making the best of our marriage,” Jasper said slowly as he moved toward Emma Jane, stepping in between her and his mother. “But you have to understand that my mission to save Daisy takes precedence right now. Her life is in danger, and every moment that I spend here is a moment closer to her demise.”
Emotions he didn’t understand flickered across Emma Jane’s face as she straightened her shoulders and nodded. “You have my full support.”
Then she hesitated, looking down at her Bible, as if she were hoping it would... Jasper shook his head. What could the Bible do for her? It wasn’t going to save anyone’s life.
Emma Jane sighed and looked up at him. “But... I’m tired of pretending that the whispers don’t bother me. I’m tired of people thinking I’ve driven you away. I...”
“I’m sorry you’re bothered by all the talk.” Jasper cut her off, trying not to sound cold, but what else was he supposed to say? Everyone thought that being a Jackson was a wonderful thing, but all it did was put you in the limelight, where everyone always had something to say about your life. And by something, it never meant anything good.
Jasper took a step back. He’d intended for their marriage to ease Emma Jane’s problems, not make them worse. The only reason he’d married her was because after being alone together overnight, her reputation would be ruined, and no decent man would have her. Apparently, their marriage hadn’t had the desired effect.
“I’m sorry, Emma Jane.” He held out his hand to her, then captured her gaze, ignoring his mother’s indrawn breath. How had he never noticed before that Emma Jane’s eyes were such an exquisite shade of blue, with little flecks of brown dancing within?
“I’d hoped that our marriage would be enough to keep people from talking.” He looked back at the ground, unable to face the way her wide-eyed expression asked questions of him he wasn’t ready to answer.
“I don’t know what to do about it right now. Even if I stay, people are going to find something to talk about.”
He sent a glare in his mother’s direction. “The best thing for Emma Jane right now is for everyone to stand beside her in my absence. You can support me, thereby supporting her, or...”
Or what? Jasper let out a long, frustrated sigh. His mother would do exactly as she pleased, which didn’t do anything to help Emma Jane. Leaving him trapped in the conundrum of dealing with Emma Jane’s hurt feelings or following his calling to rescue Daisy and bring the bandits to justice.
Why did doing the right thing have to put him in such a difficult position?
“It’s all right, son.” His father stepped forward, placing one hand on Jasper’s shoulder, the other on Emma Jane’s. “Your mother and I haven’t done all we could in easing your wife’s transition into our family.”
He gave Jasper a squeeze, then moved back and addressed Emma Jane. “I apologize if we haven’t been as welcoming as we could have been. Such a hasty marriage didn’t give any of us time to properly prepare, and that’s no excuse. I’ll do what I can to address any talk.”
Jasper couldn’t help but notice his mother still remained near the door, her back stiff and unyielding, her mouth pursed tightly. There would be an argument between his parents later, and yet again, Jasper was responsible.
Why did so much have to rest on his shoulders? So many things for him to be held accountable for, and yet the one thing that mattered most—saving the life of an innocent woman—seemed to be directly at odds with it all.
He heaved another sigh, then took Emma Jane’s hands in his, wishing her hands didn’t feel like ice, like they needed him for warmth. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I just want you to talk to me,” Emma Jane said quietly. Her shoulders rose and fell. “I know ours isn’t a love match. But I at least thought we could be friends. That we were friends. Instead, I find that you have shut me out completely.”
Her words weren’t supposed to sting. All of this was her fault. They were once friends, and they could be friends still, but she had to trap him into marriage. So why was he the one who felt bad?
“I’m not sure what to talk to you about.”
“You could have told me that you were leaving our wedding reception to help Will rescue Mary’s sister Rose from the bandits. Mary knew, so why didn’t you fill me in, as well? I understand you wanted to help them. Mary and Will are my friends, too. And now, trying to bring the rest of the gang to justice and find this Daisy person? Why can’t I help?”
A whole list of reasons, starting with the fact that the only people who knew for certain that Rose had run away, and not been kidnapped, were Will, Jasper and Rose’s family. Jasper had been asked not to apprise anyone of that fact.
Fortunately, there was one equally important reason. “These are dangerous people. The only reason Mary came along that night is because she followed me. She wasn’t supposed to be there. These men are the kind to shoot first, ask questions later. I won’t have you risking your life.”
Emma Jane gave him a mournful look. One that almost made him feel bad for excluding her. But she didn’t understand how dire the situation was.
“I just want you to let me in. To talk to me like we did before our marriage.”
Jasper wanted that, too. But it seemed like there was too much at stake to waste effort on social niceties. They’d had good conversation, sure, but conversation did nothing when it came to saving lives.
“There’s no time for that. The search party is leaving soon—with or without me. Once this business is settled, then we can talk.”
The Emma Jane he’d always known was a little mouse. But when she straightened her shoulders, Emma Jane looked like a tiger.
“I can help.”
With the ferocity in her eyes, Jasper almost believed her.
“Emma Jane, you’re just a...”
He wanted to say “woman,” but the truth was, his life had been saved by two women. He had no illusions about females being the weaker sex. But against these men, a person who didn’t know how to fight, to survive and to kill if needed—that person was dead. Emma Jane could do none of those things.
“A woman who happens to be friends with the women rescued from the brothel. Women who were privy to the bandits’ secrets. So do not condescend to me about what I can and cannot do.”
She stepped aside, including his parents in the conversation. “I have tried to do what has been asked of me. But I am tired of sitting and pretending that having insult upon insult heaped upon me does not bother me. I am Mrs. Jasper Jackson, for better or for worse. And as such, I will assist my husband in bringing these bandits to justice. And when that happens, I will walk through this town with my head held high, and not a soul will dare look down upon me.”
A few tense moments ticked by. Then, with a steely look far more threatening than even his mother’s fiercest glower, Emma Jane stared directly at his mother. “Including you, Mrs. Jackson.”
Everything in him wanted to applaud Emma Jane at her words. As far as Jasper knew, no one had stood up to his mother before. At least, not with that level of vigor.
But Emma Jane was not finished, because then she turned her attention on him. “You will let me help you. If you do not include me in your plans, I will do my part, anyway. Even if it means going to the sheriff directly.”
Jasper didn’t doubt her words. No, this ferocious spitfire, a woman with whom he was entirely unacquainted, meant business. Just as Mary had snuck out and followed him to the brothel that night, he knew Emma Jane would do the same—and more.
They’d barely gotten Mary and her sister Rose out alive that night. How much more danger would Emma Jane face? It seemed an impossible choice—include Emma Jane in a potentially dangerous mission, or risk having her go behind his back and get mixed up in something potentially more precarious?
