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A V formed between her brows. “What do ye want Sam?”
“I’m breaking you out of here,” he simply told her. “Can you jimmy the lock on those iron shackles?”
She didn’t budge. “Ye think I lied,” she reminded him. “Ye believed I kille
d him.”
“Trust isn’t one of my better traits,” he said with a grin, trying to fall back on his usual sarcasm, but one look at Ivy, and the humor died on his lips. “But I’m working on it, Ivy.”
Glancing toward the stairs, he said, “We don’t have much time. We’ll discuss this later. I’ll get the keys to the cell, but the shackles are the marshal’s. You’ll have to pick ‘em.”
When he received no response, he turned and found her staring at him. “Why are ye doing this?”
Their eyes met and held. Suspicion was clearly evident in hers. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. Not more than five days ago, he had accused her of lying. “The dress.”
“Pardon?”
“The dress they found covered in blood and supposedly belonged to you,” he told her. “It was found at the bottom of the laundry pile. Didn’t you tell me earlier that Stella was the one to hire out the laundry?”
Something flickered across her face and with a start Sam realized Ivy had known all along. “You’re covering for her, aren’t you?”
She shook her head before dropping her chin. “I don’t know how or even if she’s involved.”
“Dammit, Ivy. You would have hung for a murder you did not commit, just to protect this woman?”
Her head snapped up. “No.”
“Then why didn’t you say anything? Tell Roy?”
“He would never have believed me. Even ye thought I was guilty.”
That stung. More so because it was true. “So you chose to remain silent instead?”
“I didn’t realize her possible involvement until ye gone and told me the eyewitness was Becky.”
He frowned. “What would be her motive?”
“I’m not entirely certain.”
“But you have an idea, don’t you?”
She gave a sad little shake of her head. “No, not really. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Dammit, Ivy, you need to find out. You just can’t sit back and hope things will work out for you.”
Something in her expression made him draw back. He nearly choked on his next words. “Ivy, why haven’t you tried to escape?”
“I’m done running.”
“Jesus!” he swore, running his hand along the back of his neck.
“Don’t ye understand, Sam? I’ve been fighting a losing battle all me life.”
Grabbing the iron rails, he pushed his face toward her and growled, “The only thing I understand is that you’ve lied to me after all. You made me believe you were a woman fighting to be accepted, not allowing your past to dictate your future.”
Pain, perhaps a mix of fear, knitted her forehead. “I can’t do it. I won’t always be looking behind me wondering when the next bounty hunter will track me down.”
He sighed and placed the lantern on the floor next to her cell. “There won’t be another. Once we get you out of here, we’ll settle this once and for all. We’ll clear your name, Ivy, but we need time. Something the justice system isn’t so generous with.”
