One
Summer 1882
Texas Panhandle
The sudden bang of a heavy prison door echoed like a rifle shot down a long, dimly lit hallway. Adeline Jancy flinched as though struck, her hand clenching tighter around the letters from Ridge Steele, the man she’d agreed to marry upon release. In her other hand, she gripped a pitiful burlap bag that contained all her earthly possessions.
A nearby door opened, and she blinked at the unaccustomed light, her eyes watering from the glare.
For three long and dismal years, she’d lived in solitary confinement below the prison, in silence so complete that she could hear the twitch of a rat’s whiskers a yard away. She’d thought of this moment, dreamed about it for so long. Freedom. A chance to start over. But now that it was here, was she truly ready? Her knees buckled.
The squeak of shoes met her ears, and a heavyset woman appeared.
“Jancy, it’s me—Nettie Mae.”
Now, the door to her cell no longer between them, Addie finally saw the face of the woman who’d brought her food each day. Middle-aged and gray-haired, Nettie had kind eyes. Tears gathered in her own eyes as she hugged her sole friend.
Nettie kept talking, the first time Addie’d heard her speak louder than a whisper. “You gotta listen and listen good. Two men are waitin’ at the front gate to grab you when you leave the prison. I ’spect you know what they want.”
Yes, she knew.
Addie’d expected her release to be difficult and Nettie confirmed it. During the night, she’d played the scenarios over in her mind countless times. She might get shot, she might die. She might meet a fate even worse than death. But if so, she would face it with her head held high. Not cowering in fear.
Gas lamps held in brackets lining the walls every few yards emitted loud sizzles that sounded like thousands of flying insects. An unpleasant odor permeated the air.
“Mr. Luke overheard those men. He’s going to catch you before you reach the door and take you out the back way. You’re gonna be fine. I can tell Mr. Luke’s a right good man.”
Addie’s heart pounded. Gonna be fine—if the warden didn’t stop Luke on his way in. If the ones waiting for her didn’t get wind of a change in procedure. If she and Luke weren’t spotted and followed. Her release involved too many ifs.
She braced herself, determined. Now was not the time to panic. After all these years, she had to finally take control of her life. Sweat lined her palms. Her welcoming committee wanted what she knew—and she’d take that to her grave first. Ezekiel Jancy be damned! She’d defied him before and paid dearly. Everything she’d suffered was worth it if it meant that a small innocent stayed safe from Ezekiel’s iron will.
Her pulse throbbed in her neck and she wet her lips. She took Nettie’s hands and wished with all her might to find words to express her gratitude. She forced air up to make herself speak, but not a peep emerged. Prison, trauma, and solitude combined with her rusty, weak throat stole her ability to speak. Before her stood the one person in the world she longed to thank, and she couldn’t utter a sound. She blinked hard and stuffed the letters into her burlap.
“I know, child.” Nettie patted her shoulder awkwardly with one misshapen hand. “Save your strength. I’m glad I could help.” Nettie turned to walk away, and Addie reached for her.
“You go on now and marry that handsome outlaw. Leave your memories at the door and have a good life far away from this hell.” Nettie sniffled. “I’ll die in here, but you’re getting out. Make every second you have left count for something good.” She gave Addie a little push. “Go. Mr. Luke’s waitin’.”
Her heart bursting with conflicting emotion, Addie took a deep breath. She walked down the hallway toward freedom—or death, if this didn’t go right.
At every noise, she jumped, her nerves like fine glass ready to shatter. A few feet from the door, a tall man appeared quietly from a side room. Dressed as a cowboy, he had the coloring of a Spaniard and wore a soft, dove-gray hat. Long dark hair hung to his shoulders.
“Miss Jancy, I’m Luke Legend. Trust me to get you out of here. I won’t let anyone harm you.” He relieved her of the pitiful burlap bag.
Without waiting for her to nod, he took her arm and led her a different way, down a maze of corridors. Doubts jumped into her head like circus fleas on a dog—where was he taking her? But instinct and Nettie’s soft assurance urged her to trust him, and she really had little choice.
Finally, they reached a door and emerged into blinding sunlight. She threw her hands over her eyes to block the bright pain.
“Un momento. I prepared for something like this.”
She heard a rustling sound, and a second later he draped a soft, clean cloth around her head. Ahhh, blessed relief. She could’ve wept at the kindness of this man who’d thought of everything.
“There. You can open your eyes now.”
She peered through her fingers and saw she wore a black veil. Again, she tried to speak, to thank him, but nothing came.
“Hurry. When you don’t show up at the front door, those men will be onto us. They look desperate.” Though Luke’s voice held an urgent tone, the comforting hand on her back imparted trust that he knew the safest way out of this.
She had to trot to keep up with his long strides and was out of breath by the time they reached a horse and buggy waiting in the shade of a tree. He helped her in and went around to his side, strapping on a gun belt and holster.
Moments later, as they careened from the prison, shots rang out behind them.
“Get down as low as you can.” Luke drew his revolver, leaned out, and returned fire.
Hoofbeats pounded on the hard-packed road, and she could scarcely tell the sound apart from her frantic heartbeat. Each time they made a curve, the buggy came near to overturning. Addie hung on for her very life, praying to see the town of Austin coming up ahead. They should be close. If memory served, the prison had only been a mile or so out of town. But it had been so long since she’d been brought to the prison, and the years could have blurred the details in her mind.
Though she didn’t rise to look, the pursuers mounts sounded upon them, and a flurry of shots kept her head lowered. One round barely missed her, splintering the wood just above. Luke yelled for his poor horse to go faster. The ground sped past until finally the sound of the men behind began to fade.
They pulled into Austin at long last, but Luke slowed little. He wove their buggy in and around the other wagons and horses before pulling to a head-jerking stop.
“Come on.” Luke lifted her from the overworked buggy and set her down. Taking her hand, he pulled her into a mercantile. They raced through the store and went out the back.