Brave the Wild Wind (6 page)

J
ESSIE didn’t usually sleep late, but she woke to find her room quite bright. Several hours of the morning were gone. Why? Usually, if she wasn’t up by seven o’clock, Kate would come in to wake her. Maybe Kate had assumed she was up and gone.

As Jessie dressed, she wondered what Kate thought about all the uproar in their lives. But then, Kate probably wouldn’t have told her even if she’d asked. For as long as Jessie could remember, the Indian woman had been there, like so much else on the ranch. But she had never gotten close to Kate. The older woman never encouraged overtures. Often, especially lately, she was downright sullen. Had Kate ever been her father’s mistress? Jessie knew she’d never learn the answer to that. She often felt sorry for Kate, wasting her life there, having no family. But any time she had ever asked Kate why she stayed, Kate had replied that Thomas needed her. And even after he died and Jessie offered to settle Kate anywhere she liked, Kate declined. There was nowhere she wanted to go. The ranch was all Kate had anymore.

Jessie let it go then, grateful that the Indian
woman was there to see to the house, for Jessie certainly didn’t have the time. And the house was kept immaculate, Jessie’s bed always made when she returned at the end of the day, her clothes washed and hung in her wardrobe, hot meals waiting.

As soon as she was dressed, Jessie hurried to the stable, furious with herself for being late. She barely noticed Rachel’s voice coming from the porch, but stopped when she heard Chase Summers’s raised voice. For once, he was angry with someone other than Jessie.

“Rachel, I wouldn’t marry that spoiled brat of yours if you paid me! Where in hell did you get such a fool idea?”

Jessie froze.

“From you,” Rachel replied calmly. “You said I ought to find her a husband if I wanted her off my hands.”

“But I was angry, not serious. She’s just a child. She needs a father, not a husband.”

“She
had
a father. A lot of good it did her,” Rachel retorted bitterly. “And you know perfectly well she’s old enough to marry.”

“Age has nothing to do with it. She still acts like a kid. Forget it, Rachel. Find someone else to dump her on if you must, but I want nothing to do with that brat.”

“Won’t you at least think about it?” Rachel’s voice turned soft and appealing. “You’ve been wandering for years, Chase. This is nice country to settle down in, and the ranch is established, a fine spread.”

“With a debt,” he reminded her.

“I would pay off the debt,” she said quickly. “She wouldn’t have to know.”

“Would you listen to yourself, Rachel?” Chase snapped. “I hope you don’t make that offer to anyone else! Another man would jump at it, and you wouldn’t be doing the girl any favor. Now, I’m willing to help you, but not to the point of human sacrifice. And you’re not that cold-blooded, either, so just pretend you never had this idea.”

“Then, for God’s sake, tell me what I’m supposed to do!” Rachel started crying. “I can’t take much more of this. I’m not used to such hostility, and from my own daughter—it’s unbearable! She doesn’t want me here. She walks away whenever I talk to her. She would be happier if I left, yet I can’t leave her here alone. I just can’t do that. She has to have someone to look out for her.”

“Take it easy now, lady.” Chase began to comfort her. “Perhaps it’s time you considered paying someone to be her guardian so you don’t have to do it.”

“But who could I trust with the responsibility? Who wouldn’t take advantage of her?…” She brightened suddenly. “I could trust you, Chase. Would you—”

“No, I wouldn’t! I couldn’t handle it, Rachel. For some reason I lose my temper every time I talk to that girl. I’d end up wringing her neck if she were left in my charge.”

Jessie left then, horrified and humiliated beyond anything she had ever felt before. An agony of pain swelled in her chest, constricting her throat, pain of contempt and scorn, pain of
utter rejection. It hurt, it hurt so bad she wanted to cry. But she wouldn’t cry because of them, she told herself. She wouldn’t.

The tears were blinding as she reached the stable. She was about to collapse when a child’s voice said, “What’s wrong, Jessie?”

She couldn’t bear for anyone to know, let alone Rachel’s son.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she snapped. “I just got some dust in my eyes.”

“Can I help?”

“No! I’m fine. The watering washed away the dust.”

She walked past him to Blackstar’s stall, but Billy followed. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

“Well I am, aren’t I?”

He was not put off. “Are you going out on the range now?” he asked as she saddled Blackstar. When she didn’t answer, he persisted. “Can I go with you this time?”

“No!”

“But I won’t get in your way, Jessie, I promise I won’t. Please?”

The pleading eagerness in that voice broke through, somehow, and she relented.

“All right.” Then she added sternly, so he wouldn’t think she was easily swayed, “But only this time. You can use that sorrel over there, if you know how to saddle him.”

Billy let out a whoop of delight and ran to the horse. But the fact was, each time old Jeb had showed him how to saddle a horse so he could ride around the valley, Jeb had actually put the saddle on himself. Billy found himself stumped.
He couldn’t even get the heavy saddle off the railing, let alone onto the horse’s back. The horse was higher than he was, and so was the railing.

Jessie finished with Blackstar and led him over to where Billy was struggling, shaking her head in amusement. The saddle he was fighting with was an old forty-pounder. Yet there was no other saddle in sight. She had to admit, the kid had determination.

She helped him tug the saddle down from the railing. “Now, together…one, two,
three
.” They swung the saddle up into place, and Jessie stepped back. “Can you manage now?”

“Sure. And thanks.”

Jessie waited impatiently as he tried to do the girth that was tucked under the saddle. His short arms couldn’t reach it. He finally went around the horse and carried the strap under him, then buckled it too loosely.

“Honestly, can’t you do anything?” she said gruffly as she came forward again to help.

Billy watched her stern expression as she finished the job. He grinned, happy. What she was doing spoke better than words.

“You don’t really hate me, do you, Jessie?”

She looked up, startled. Why was he able to see through her like that? “Of course I do.”

But Billy persisted, still grinning. “I think you like me just a little.”

“Well, that just goes to show how much you know,” she said lightly. She’d meant only to tease, but when she looked at him, there were
tears glistening in his eyes. “Oh, Billy, I was only teasing. Honestly. Of course I like you.” He looked relieved, and she added, “But don’t you dare tell your mother I said so, you hear?”

O
LD Jeb was in his glory when he was storytelling, and he had a rapt audience in Billy Ewing. Jessie was amused, leaning back against a railing and watching the expressions on her half brother’s face as he listened to Jeb recount the time he’d come
that close
to being hanged.

Back at the end of ’63, the Vigilantes of Montana had nearly sent Jeb to Boot Hill. The Vigilantes were formed in Virginia City, a town known to its shame to have been the scene of two hundred murders in only six months. Jeb had simply been mistaken for a member of a large gang. He was tried and sentenced to hang. The only reason he was spared was that the gang member he was mistaken for happened to wander into the crowd, to watch the hanging. As he approached the crowd, he was recognized. It was an experience Jeb loved to talk about.

Jessie had heard it so often, though. She left the stable without even being noticed, so engrossed were the young man and the old one.

She moved on slowly toward the house, stopping at the porch and stretching out on one of the leather settees. The air was still and not too
cold. Jessie didn’t want to go in just yet. It was late, but not too late.

Jessie closed her eyes against her thoughts, hoping the clear air would clear her mind so she could sleep. Just as she was beginning to feel peaceful, she heard, “Where’s the boy?”

Jessie opened her eyes slowly. She didn’t see Chase at first, and had to look around to find him sitting on the steps, leaning back against a post so he could face her.

“You’ll find Billy in the stable with Jeb.”

“I wasn’t looking for him, just wondering where he was. I thought he might have turned in early, as much riding as he did today.”

Jessie grinned to herself, remembering how hard Billy had tried to keep up with her. “He’ll probably be sore in the morning, but I think he enjoyed himself.”

“I’ve no doubt of that. He’s wanted to go with you for a long time.”

Jessie sat straight up and looked at him. “How would you know?”

“He tells me things,” Chase replied a little proudly. “Will you be taking him out again?”

“I haven’t thought about that.” Jessie shrugged. “Not tomorrow, anyway. I won’t be here tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

Jessie felt her anger rising, and underneath that, she felt some of the pain Chase had caused her that morning.

“Yes, ‘Oh,’ and it’s none of your business why, mister.”

“I wish you’d consider calling me Chase,” he said nicely.

“I don’t know you well enough.”

He grinned. “That can be easily rectified. What would you like to know about me?”

“Nothing,” she said stubbornly, closing her eyes again.

“That’s too bad, because I find myself infinitely curious about you.”

She looked at him sharply. Was he teasing her?

“Why?” she demanded.

“You’re so different from most girls. I find it fascinating, the way you’ve been raised. Tell me something. Is it what you wanted, this kind of life?”

“What difference does it make?” she said. “It’s done. I am the way I am.” She tried hard to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She would never admit to this man or to Rachel how much she hated her life. She wanted more than anything else to look and act like other girls. She’d had a chance to change herself when her father died, a chance to be normal at long last. She would have her chance again when the two interlopers were gone.

“Yes,” Chase was saying pleasantly. “You are certainly unique. You can’t blame a man for being curious, now, can you?”

He had such an engaging smile. His teeth were so white and even, his lips generous, yet not too full. And his dark hair waved across his forehead like…

Jessie shook herself. What was the matter with her, staring at him like that?

“Men out here, whether they’re curious or not, don’t ask so many questions,” she said to
him. “But I forget, you’re not from out here. I’ll be going to Cheyenne tomorrow, since you’re interested. I have to hire a few more men for the roundup.”

“Mind if I ride along?”

“Why? So you can do Rachel’s bidding? I told you you’d only be wasting your time.”

“Well, why don’t you let me be the judge of that? I won’t be moving along until I’ve done what your mother asked of me, you know.” He tried to say it as gently as possible.

“Then by all means, you can come along with me tomorrow,” Jessie said quickly.

Chase laughed heartily. “How eager you are to be rid of me. You wound me terribly, Jessica. Most women find me charming and witty. Women usually like having me around, believe it or not.”

“But, then, I’m not a woman, am I?” Jessie said in a perfectly calm voice, her expression unchanging. “I’m just a spoiled brat. So what I think of you can’t make any difference one way or another, now, can it?”

Chase frowned. That echoed too closely what he’d said to Rachel that morning. She couldn’t possibly have overheard, could she? No. She wouldn’t be speaking to him at all if she had.

“Where’s Rachel?” Jessie broke into his thoughts.

“She’s gone to bed,” he answered, giving her a measuring look. “And don’t you think it would be more appropriate if you called her Mother?”

“No, I don’t,” she replied simply. “And I think I’ll be turning in myself now.”

Jessie sat up and stretched her arms outward and back, emphasizing that she was worn out, not just eager to end their conversation. His eyes went to her body, particularly to the area where her breasts pressed against her shirt front.

So that was all it took to get him to notice her as a woman! Jessie stretched a little harder before she stood up. She delighted in his expression. He seemed unaware that he was staring rudely.

“I’ll be leaving before dawn, if you’re set on riding with me,” Jessie volunteered.

“Yes, well—”

“Good night, Mr. Summers.”

Chase watched her walk into the house. In the privacy of her room she would be removing her clothes, those male clothes that didn’t really hide her femininity at all. What would she be putting on to wear to bed? A nightshirt? Nothing at all? He found he could easily picture her completely nude.

He began to wonder if his image of her would match the reality. Were her breasts really so full and rounded as they seemed, her waist so tiny? Her face and hands were sun-kissed, but he imagined the rest of her as delicate as a white rose. Her legs would be her worst feature. They were beautifully long in proportion to her body, but she spent long hours riding astride every day, and that had to make for hard, bulging muscles. Yet those legs would be powerful, with the strength to trap a man between them and keep him there until she was through
with him. Yes, she would be aggressive in making love.

Good Lord, what the hell was he doing, sitting here thinking those thoughts? Regardless of her shapely body, she was just a kid. He had no business stripping her clothes off, even in his mind. She was pretty enough—beautiful, really, if he cared to be honest. Downright stunning when she smiled.

But he didn’t even like her. No, he didn’t even like her.