The Secret Diaries of Katherine Barlow: Chapter 4
Author: C.L. Curtis
Description: A year after Sam's death, Kate reflects on how her life has changed. Also, a cowboy by the name of Jake Jensen invited himself to join the outlaw, and thus begins the acquiring of her posse.
Disclaimer: Louis Sachar still owns Kate. Jake, however, is mine. Hands off, ladies.
May 22, 1891
It has been exactly one year since Sam's death. Still, I remember that day as though it were yesterday, and the pain of that memory is still fresh. I cope only by refusing to think of it, focusing my energies instead on the new life I am building for myself. I have not once returned to Green Lake.
The events of this past year will not be explained easily. My time has been occupied by taking whatever measures necessary to stay alive and free. I have robbed banks and stagecoaches, even killed for my needs. The only person I am responsible for now is me, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I allowed myself to care for others once, but I will certainly never make that mistake again.
That's not to say I spend all of my time, alone, though. About five months ago, a man by the name of Jake Jensen got me out of what could have been a very bad situation.
What should have been a routine bank robbery was foiled when I was recognized while still on the street. I suppose I must have underestimated myself, and the reputation I have acquired over the past year. Only after the fact did I see the Wanted posters bearing an uncanny resemblance to my face along the words 'Kissin' Kate Barlow' and the obligatory 'Dead or Alive'. 'Kissin' Kate', attributed to the fact that I still leave those I kill with the mark of my kiss. It seems oddly appropriate, though it is more or less an indication of my current mental state. I'm not sure if 'crazy' is quite the right word for it, though, considering that crazy people aren't supposed to know that they are, in fact, insane. I do. I am well aware of this fact, and the only difference is that I don't particularly care one way or the other.
Anyway, it all began when one brave soul shouted "That's Kissin' Kate!", setting up the entire town into an uproar. Amidst the shouting throngs of people who were only causing more confusion, I was grabbed from behind. The man clapped his hand over my mouth and pulled me into an alley, and then through a side door into a cabin. Finally, he released me.
"You need to be careful, missy," he hissed simply, taking a step away from me and hurriedly crossing to close the drapes. Eyes wide and mouth gaping open, I stared at him, trying to decide what exactly to make of him. He was a few years older than I, about twenty-seven, with sandy blonde hair and light blue eyes. His build was muscular, skin tanned and dark.
I was less than impressed.
"I am careful," I spat indignantly. "You have no right to-"
"Aw, would ya do us both a favor and just listen for a minute, Kate?" he pleaded, his expression sharpening dangerously.
I looked at him with something like wonder, opening my mouth to inquire as to how he was so certain he knew my name, let alone my identity. He beat me to the punch.
"Look, Ms. Barlow," he continued, sarcasm dripping from his every word. "I don't know if you're aware of the fact that you're wanted all over the state of Texas, but I can assure ya, the rate you're goin'? You won't last long as an outlaw." He arched an eyebrow. "Which is sad, really, considerin' I'm such a big fan and all."
Luckily, his tone snapped me back onto my game, and I shot back sassily: "And just what do you suggest?"
Here, he stepped toward me, looking down at me square in the eyes and holding out a hand. "I can help you. I'd like to help you. My name is Jake Jensen."
Unappreciative to the violation of my personal space, I shoved him away from me. "I don't need your help, Jake. In fact--"
Opening my mouth to make some creative threat or another, I was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a gunshot ringing through the cabin. On instinct, I pulled my own gun and whirled around, slowly turning toward Jake. He had a gun in one hand, and a satisfied grin on his face as he tucked it out of sight.
"Didn't see that comin' did ya?" he said good-naturedly, motioning toward something in the corner a few feet behind me. "Neither did he, let me tell you."
In awe, I looked down at the corner to survey the dead rat looking back at me. Slowly, gun still drawn, I met Jake's eye again.
"You win," I muttered, against my better judgment. "Come with me, if it's what you want. But I'm the boss. You listen to me. Got that?" I pointed my gun directly at his face, just in case he chose to decline. "One wrong move, and I can assure you: I won't hesitate to kill you."
Luckily for him, he took my warning to heart. Now, Jake Jensen is my willing accomplice, and truth be told? Sometimes I even enjoy the company.