Read Online Stealing Jake by Pam Hillman - Free Book Online Page A

of his knees hit the cot, he plopped down, his gaze riveted on Jake.
    Jake held out a hand, palm up. “It’s okay, Gus. I don’t think you did anything wrong.”
    Gus shook his head, his eyes big and filled with fear. “I don’t want to go to jail, Mr. Jake.”
    “You’re not going to jail. Everything’s fine.”
    “Are you sure?” Gus eyed him as if he’d suddenly grown two heads.
    “I’m sure. There’s nothing to worry about. I just wondered if you’d seen anything or knew who might have locked up.”
    “I don’t know nuthin’.”
    “I believe you, Gus. You’re not in any trouble, okay?”
    Gus nodded.
    Jake placed his hat on his head and moved to the door, giving Gus some space. The poor fellow was too upset to think straight right now. “If you think of anything, you’ll tell me, won’t you?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Good. Take care of Little Bit, okay?”
    Jake let himself out, mounted his horse, and headed back to town. The road split, and he swung toward shantytown. Might as well ride that way and check things out while he was on this end of town. He rounded the bend and pulled his mare up short. Two, three, no, four new buildings—not more than shacks, really—hugged the banks of the frozen creek. A crude sign proclaimed one a saloon. Jake clenched his jaw. Just what they needed. Another one to take the coal miners’ hard-earned pay.
    He could see the glove factory in the distance, nestled under some trees close to the creek and away from town. The structure wasn’t big, but he supposed a large workshop wasn’t needed to make gloves. The new industry didn’t provide many jobs, but it did offer a few people work other than in the mines. And that was always a good thing.
    A young woman hurried toward him, a basket of laundry clasped against her waist. Her gaze lifted and caught his. Her steps faltered, but she gave a short nod in recognition before ducking her head and continuing on.
    Johanna Thorndike.
    Widowed with two small children to raise.
    Jake watched her out of sight, then turned away, a tight knot forming in his chest.
    God, why did I survive when Derek didn’t?
    Not expecting an answer to the question he’d asked a thousand times over the last two years, Jake dismounted in front of a cabin in better repair than most and pulled a burlap sack off his saddle. He knocked, and a frail voice called out for him to enter. A small amount of light from a single dingy window and the low flames of the fire illuminated the cabin. The room felt warm and cozy compared to the bitter cold outside. Jake’s eyes adjusted to the dim light and the figure seated before the fire, rocking slowly back and forth. “Seamus?”
    The old man smiled. “Ah, young Jake. Come in. I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age.”
    “Now, Seamus, I came over here last week.” Jake left the sack on the table. He knew better than to mention he’d brought a few things with him. Seamus would find them soon enough.
    Confusion lined the elderly man’s face. He’d not been the same since the mine collapse a couple of years ago that had killed his two sons, Johanna’s husband, and—
    Jake tamped the memories down.
    “You did? Oh, well, the noggin ain’t what it used to be. Sit a spell, and tell me what’s going on outside these four walls.”
    Jake straddled a chair. “Lots of new folks in town, but I guess you’ve noticed that.”
    “Hmmm.”
    “Snowed over two feet the other day. You been outside lately?”
    Seamus cackled. “Not if I can he’p it.”
    They sat for a few minutes, warming by the fire. Jake made a mental note to check the coal bin on his way out. Seamus didn’t have anybody else to care for him these days. “You heard anything about a bunch of street kids roaming around?”
    “Ah, you know young’uns. They wander around day and night. Nobody cares what they do. I’da took a switch to mine and made ’em stay at home.”
    “These kids don’t have a ma or a pa. They live on the