“Exactly,” I say, nodding along as Sue speaks. “Maybe the legend of the Devil’s Bride has spread far and wide, but that does not explain his sudden appearance. He is hiding something.”
“I’m going with him,” Jane says. “I’m sorry.”
“Jane, be sensible,” I say. I can feel the work I have done over the past few weeks, helping Jane piece herself together as we traveled, begin to come undone as she considers turning back toward the bloody path of revenge. “We are only a few days from Haven, Daniel Redfern can wait until then. Perhaps we can resupply and find allies willing to go with us to confront Gideon.”
I had hoped that upon getting to Haven we would find at the very least a functional town and, perhaps, Jane’s mother and Aunt Aggie. I know Jane can be saved from the darkness in her soul, but I am afraid that I am not enough to get her to reconsider her path. Not again.
“I don’t think this can wait,” Jane says, her voice low. Something flickers in her gaze. “Katherine, I have to see this through. I’ve given up so much already, and someone has to stop him. I cannot bear to let this opportunity slip past.”
I stamp my foot, because Jane is irksome under the best of circumstances and this is far from that. “If you think that I am about to let you march off with a man who has put his interests before ours, to our detriment, by the by, on more than one occasion, you have another think coming, Jane McKeene. You know how I feel about this muttonheaded quest of yours, but running off with Daniel Redfern is a whole other level of lunacy. You are going to get yourself killed because you are too impulsive by half—”
Sue’s deep laugh halts my tantrum.
“I swear, the pair of you are a match set, stubborn and overly dramatic to boot. You are both so determined to be contrary that it’s a wonder you managed to escape that terrible town that had you all jammed up.”
Jane raises an eyebrow. “And I suppose you’ve got a plan?”
“Of course. Just because the two of you never ask my thoughts on a matter doesn’t mean I’m beef-witted. Jane, you’re going to run off with Sheriff Redfern and get killed doing something reckless because you cannot help yourself. And then, Katherine, you’re going to spend another year feeling sorry for yourself and doubting every decision you make.” Jane and I fall silent, chastened, and Sue gives us a smug look. “Now here’s what I think: Jane, you’re my friend and all, but I learned long ago never to get in between you and something you got your heart set on. You want to kill that fool from Nicodemus, have at.”
I swallow hard. “Sue, this is the opposite of helpful.”
She shrugs. “Maybe. But someone has to be levelheaded here. Personally, I think spending all this time chasing down a single man is a lot for a body to handle. Way I see it, Jesus gets everyone sorted out when they get to the afterlife, so one way or another that man will get his.”
Jane nods slowly. “I’ve always counted you as a friend, Sue. So thank you.”
“I ain’t finished,” Sue says, exasperation lacing her voice. “It’s obvious Katherine is going to have to go with you, both to save you from your impulses and so she doesn’t go mad with worry over your carcass.”
“Not a chance,” Jane says. “I can’t have Katherine’s death on my soul.”
“As if I am so easy to kill,” I huff. “Sue is right. Your purpose may be Gideon Carr, but you are mine. I go with you, or you do not go at all.”
“Is that a threat?” Jane asks, eyebrow arching.
“Yes, it is.”
Jane hesitates before sighing dramatically. “Fine. But if you’re angling to keep me from killing Gideon you may as well stay here.”
“I am not, Jane. But you shall not go down this path alone. Because you have people who love you. You always have.”
Something like sadness passes over Jane’s features, but it is gone quicker than lightning. She gives me a dismissive wave. “If you say so.”
And just like that, we are agreed on a course of action.
Jane nods toward Sue. “I don’t have to worry about you coming along as well, do I?”
Sue snorts. “Heck no. Besides, someone has to keep an eye on Lily and Tomás and talk Carolina out of the snit he’s bound to fall into when he discovers you’ve gotten Katherine tangled up in one of your terrible schemes.”
We leave early the next morning, just as the sun sends tendrils of pink across the deep blue sky. Mr. Redfern has not a single weapon and we are able to convince Juliet to part with both a shotgun and a Bowie knife for the man. Our plan is simple: hike straight into the mountains to Smith’s Forge. It is an abandoned mining camp, and the place where Mr. Redfern says Gideon is holed up. Upon finding Gideon Carr, we will end his life.
“How do you know that Gideon Carr is still in this mining camp?” I ask as we walk, because I think Mr. Redfern is withholding vital information.
“Miss Deveraux, I believe I told you this already. Two days ago. That was when I ran afoul of Gideon’s hired guns. There are three of them. Not sure where they’re from, but all white, all of the rough sort that prowl these violent lands. We shouldn’t have to worry about them until we get closer to the encampment.”
“And just why exactly do you think Mr. Carr will still be in this place?” I ask.
“Because from what I could tell he’s set himself up a nice lab out of the way from just about everything. And the kind of equipment he would have brought with him is expensive and hard to find. Not to mention that Gideon Carr is not a man to abandon what he sees as his life’s work.”
I do not ask any further questions, because Jane is giving me a sidelong glance and I do not want to provoke her. She is taken with this nonsense, and while all my concern is for her and what is left of her soul, it is a fact that when pushed in one direction she runs in the opposite. So while I doubt the veracity of Mr. Redfern’s claims, I cannot show Jane my hand just yet.
We walk for two days straight, into the Sierra Nevadas, our trek consisting of little-used footpaths marked mostly by deer tracks. The nights are freezing, and the days are not much better. The sun shines warm and bright, but the last of winter’s chill clings to the shadows as true spring has not yet made its way up the mountain. Our first night is spent huddled next to a fire, the temperature freezing cold. It seemed improper to take supplies from the wagon train for this tomfoolery, so we only grabbed a bit of pemmican and a hard biscuit. It is only the discovery of a fine trout stream on the second day that keeps us from feeling the pinch of hunger. While it is too early for berries or any other forest greens, Jane is able to dig up a few cattail roots in the mud along the creek to round out our evening meal.
“It’s only about another day and a half walk from here,” Redfern says as we enjoy our repast. I search his face for any signs of guile and find none. We finish the rest of the meal in silence. Jane, for her part, seems calmer than she has been in a spell. I have no idea what is on her mind because she says very little, and that worries me more than anything else. I have never known Jane McKeene to keep her thoughts to herself, and I wonder as we walk if perhaps I have underestimated the hate she carries in her heart. Perhaps I was too late. It could be that she was already too far along her path for vengeance by the time we became reacquainted. The possibility sends me on a spiral of despair, and I fall into a morose silence as we bed down for the night, my thoughts a heavy burden.