Page 92 of The Heart’s Charge

The big man scowled. “Not while Wallace is buried under a mountain somewhere!”

“If you don’t, the pair responsible for putting him there will get away scot-free.”

Davenport’s frown darkened.

Jonah exhaled, obviously not wanting to be at odds with his fellow Horseman. “They intend to board this very train when it reaches Llano and make their escape. We can’t let that happen.”

“Then why don’t you get on the train?” Davenport crossed his bulky arms over his chest. “You’re the one who knows what these people look like. Besides, you can barely stand. I’ll be more use at the dig site.”

“It ain’t that simple, Preach. I killed a man.”

A shiver passed over Eliza at Jonah’s statement. Not because of what he’d revealed—she had no doubt that his actions had been righteous. Whatever he’d done, he’d done to help Katherine escape. No, what caused the shiver was the flatness in his voice, as if he hated himself for what he’d been forced to do.

His pronouncement had a similar effect on Mr. Davenport. His arms uncrossed, and his expression lost its stubborn edge.

“Someone needs to report it to the sheriff, and if a black man shows up alone to confess to that kind of crime, there’s no guarantee things won’t take a nasty turn. Sheriff Porter seems like a fair-minded fellow—I spoke to him when Wallace and I started our investigation—but you never know who might overhear and decide to take justice into their own hands before all the facts are collected.”

Eliza’s shiver grew into an outright quake. She moved to Jonah’s side and slid her arm around his, squeezing it close to her side. Lynchings were all too real, and the thought of something like that happening to Jonah . . . No. She wouldn’t think of it. God had saved him from the attack on the mountain. God would save him from hotheaded fools. He had to. Eliza had just found him. She wasn’t ready to lose him. She’d never be ready to lose him.

Davenport nodded. “I’ll go. Just tell me what to do.”

Eliza let out the breath she’d been holding.

“First order of business,” Jonah said, “is to run Althea Gordon and Deputy Ernest Bronson to ground.”

“A deputy?” Davenport let out a whistle. “That ain’t right.”

“Apparently they’re brother and sister, but no one knew of the relation. They’re the ones responsible for kidnapping the missing kids. Their hired guns attacked me and Wallace on Packsaddle yesterday, and it was their idea to dynamite the mine with Wallace and the boys inside to bury the evidence.”

“I can testify to all of that,” Katherine said, stepping forward. “Althea admitted her guilt to me face-to-face. Right before she and Deputy Bronson tied me up and delivered me to Miguel Ortega.”

She extended her arms for Davenport’s inspection. Eliza’s heart ached at the angry red welts and bloody scrapes at the base of Katherine’s arms.

“They paid Ortega to . . . dispose of me. Ortega’s pistol was aimed at my head, his finger squeezing the trigger, when Mr. Brooks made the shot that saved my life. Make sure you tell Sheriff Porter that Ortega’s death was justified. I’ll answer any questions he has and sign whatever papers are needed. Jonah saved my life and Abner’s life. He’s a hero, not a killer.”

Eliza slipped her hand into Jonah’s, twining her fingers with his. “She’s right,” she murmured softly, her words meant for his ears alone. “You are a hero. A guardian of women and children. A valiant warrior. A man I’m proud to stand beside.”

Jonah turned, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that left her with a different type of shiver coursing over her skin.

As if Katherine recognized their need for privacy, she steered Mr. Davenport a few feet away, catching him up on the abductions and giving him descriptions of Althea and Ernest.

“Do you mean it?” Jonah fit his free hand to her waist. “The blood I spilled today doesn’t bother you?”

She placed her palm flat against his chest and felt the not-so-steady thump of his heart. “It bothers me insofar as any violent death bothers me,” she admitted. “I hate that it happened. Hate that evil exists in this world and that good men must pay the price for fighting it. I hate that you carry a burden that no one should.” She patted his chest and gazed straight into his eyes. “But I love that you have the courage and the skill to save those in need. I love that you value life and do everything in your power to preserve it. I love that Katherine and Abner’s lives were spared, and I love you, Jonah Brooks. I love the man you are and the man you are striving to become.”

His fingers twitched at her side. His eyes darkened.

She hadn’t meant to blurt out her feelings like that, feelings that were new and untested. Yet she’d spoken the truth, and she didn’t regret it. Especially not when the man in front of her stood a little taller and looked at her with a hunger so hot it nearly melted her spine. She had to clutch his shoulder to remain upright. When she did, his gaze dropped to her mouth and his hand drew her an inch closer. But then he blinked, glanced at the people bustling around the depot, and pulled back. She dipped her head and bit her bottom lip, their surroundings and circumstances coming back to mind.

“You and I need to have a serious conversation after all this is over.” Jonah growled the words in a low, rumbly undertone that stole Eliza’s breath. But not her sense. There were more urgent issues to deal with than kisses and intimate conversations.

One such thing being her partner. Katherine was shaking her head at something Mr. Davenport said and wrapping her arms around her middle like she did when her heart was hurting.

“It would be easier if you came with me,” Davenport urged. “You could point them out to me. And give your statement to the sheriff.”

“I can’t.” She sounded on the brink of tears. “I can’t leave Mark. Not again. I have to be there.”

“But—”