To Honor and Cherish (7 page)

Chapter
Ten

Mark crawled on top of her and she peeled her hands from her face to push him away. His gaze burned into her. She kicked him but he caught her ankle. Screaming, she crab-walked backward until he was forced to let go, up a small hill of hay behind her. She hit her head hard against the wall and could not get enough footing to use the wall to push herself up. She kicked at him again and shrieked as loud as she could make her voice.

So focused on the danger, she only perceived a blur of someone running into the barn. Mark lifted off of her, she saw his eyes widen in shock. Jax had him by the hair and the back of the pants. He flung Mark against an empty stall. Jax knelt in front of her, she yanked her skirt down over her ankles as she pulled her knees up to her chest willing herself not to cry in front of her men.

“Are you all right, boss-lady?” His voice sounded far away. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t trust herself not to scream or break down. When she didn’t answer him, he stood and rounded back on Mark.

Jax didn’t yell, he didn’t have to. His voice held more threat than any weapon. “Mark. Pack your roll. I can’t believe I trusted you, and this is how you thank me? Head back into town with Gus. You can explain to him on the long ride in why he shouldn’t beat you to a pulp and leave you in a ditch. You filthy drunk. I never should’ve taken a gamble on you. Get out of here.”

Mark picked himself up one limb at a time, rubbing the shoulder that hit the wall, then the back of his head where his hair had been yanked. He scowled at Jax.

“So you get a taste of her and none of the rest of us do? We get to sweat and work and you got to stay in the ranch house with the little missus? How nice.” He sneered. “Does she purr after you pet her?”

Jax pulled back and landed a punch so forceful it knocked Mark back a few feet into the wall.

“Don’t ever talk to her that way again. She didn’t do anything to deserve that from you.” He clenched his teeth, flexing his hand.

“Ever wonder why you’re always on the run, Jax?”

“Now is not the time, Mark.”

“You are a worthless waste of breath, Jax McCartney, but I’ll make plenty off you.”

“If you think I’m paying you for coming out here, you’d better think again.”

Mark laughed a drunken guffaw that almost made him fall backward. “What you don’t know…”

“I know enough. Just shut your mouth or I’ll lay you out again,” Jax growled.

“Ha. You think you have the upper hand? I wonder what everyone in town’ll say when they find out one of those fancy, uppity, church-goin’ ladies has been sharing her
house
with the dirty little ranch foreman. They’ll all gasp with delight and fan themselves before they pass on the good news.” He shoved the words through clenched teeth. “Bossy, gossipy, old, church ladies are perfect for making sure everyone gets the word.”

“You’d ruin her reputation because you can’t keep your nose out of the bottle?” Jax advanced on him again.

“No, I’d ruin her reputation because it’ll be fun to watch. This wasn’t much fun. It could’ve been, but you broke the mood.” He leered at Meg who’d gotten up and backed herself toward the door.

Jax grabbed Mark by the arm and twisted it behind him and led him out of the stable.

~~~

Gus saw Jax drag a young man from the barn. He recognized him as the son of the local merchant. That boy was trouble and Gus knew it. It didn’t take a long time living in town to know that piece of work. He seemed to be continuously drunk and keeping his mouth shut was a difficult problem for him. Gus had often wished he’d had a good reason to teach that boy some manners.

He saw Jax give an order to one of his men and point back at the barn. Jax led the young merchant right toward him. He snorted and prepared for the encounter.

“Gus, sir, Mark and I’d like a private word with you in the bunkhouse while he packs his things.”

“We don’t need him for this. I’ll get my stuff and go.” Mark yanked his arm from Jax’s grip but Jax was quicker and caught him before he could slither away. Mark looked frightened. Gus nodded and he followed the pair inside the bunkhouse for privacy from all the eyes and ears standing about. Mark started to wiggle and squirm in Jax’s grasp and he cuffed Mark on the ear. Gus sighed and waited for them to tell him what this had to do with him. Why didn’t Jax take this to Meg? The ranch and its operation were hers now.

Jax closed the door behind both men and proceeded tell Gus the gist of what he’d just witnessed in the barn. Gus felt his heart pump in his ears. He was livid. His face turned florid and he sputtered in fury.

Gripping Mark by the front of the shirt, he held him an inch off the ground. “Do you have anything more to say, try me, I dare you, son.”

He hitched his chin up, and looked at Gus. “Just what do you think you’re going to do, old timer? My father will make sure you pay if you hurt me.” Gus let him go and Mark crumpled to the floor.

“So you need your daddy to fight your battles, whelp? You think it’s all right to treat women like that?” He hauled him to his feet only to lay him out again.

Mark touched the side of his mouth and blood seeped from the wound. Mark had hit a nerve.

“No,
sir
, maybe we should all treat our women like you. Marry for money then sleep with any ‘ol thing who’ll do.”

Gus knew when he was too angry to deal with a problem well. He walked out and waited for Jax to bring Mark out. Mark’s horse waited, already saddled, it was a beautiful bay roan. A fine horse with a well-made saddle. Mark shrugged off the two men and went for his horse, but Gus was quicker. He grabbed one of the horse’s reins. Jax clutched Mark. Gus tied Mark’s hands together with the rein, the other rein he tied to his own saddle horn. Gus mounted his own horse, ready to ride back into town.

He tipped his hat to the men and Jax. Kicking his horse up to a quick trot, he wanted to make it as uncomfortable a walk for Mark as possible. Gus couldn’t trust himself to even speak another word to Mark. In fact, he wouldn’t even look back at him to see how he kept up. If he didn’t keep to a trot so Mark would be far behind, he just might be tempted to kick him. As far as Gus was concerned, if Mark was uncomfortable, he deserved every second of it and more. He’d force Mark to jog the whole way to town.

Gus knew what people thought of him. They knew he’d been unfaithful because Charlotte had told everyone she could in order to get their support. Then she’d proceeded to blame him for people looking down at her. If she’d kept quiet, no one would have known. After so many years, and so many attempts to make what he’d done right. He was tired of comments like Mark’s. They didn’t know the whole story, and they never would.

~~~

Meg crept from the stable to the house. She shook from head to foot and could not quit looking over her shoulder, terrified that Mark would come after her again. That he would somehow break free of Jax and finish what he’d started. Her hair was a tangled mess, with straw and other debris stuck in it. Her hand trembled as she pulled the bun out of her hair and tried to get the comb through it. It snagged and pulled. She wanted to slip away from everyone, so that no one could see her.

Meg hefted the old copper washtub from its hiding place in the kitchen into her room. She stumbled out to the back pump and filled buckets of cold water. Normally, she’d just wash off with a cloth, but today she needed to submerge under the water. Get to the pump, fill the bucket. Her brain couldn’t think beyond the two steps. She felt dirtier than she’d ever been before. Mental and physical exhaustion assailed her after a few trips. Chase and Rose had always helped with this task but she didn’t want to see anyone, so doing the job alone was the only way.

Jax walked right into the house. He didn’t knock anymore. She heard him calling for her, but didn’t respond. He found her and without a word took the buckets from her hands, stopping her. He put his hands, firm but gentle, on her shoulders and tried to make her look him in the face.

“Are you all right?” he asked for the second time. She couldn’t look up into his eyes, she didn’t want to. If she looked at him, she might see disappointment on his face or loathing, neither of which she could bear. Her memories, visions of what happened in the barn were burned into her thoughts. Every time she blinked, she could see Mark leering at her. All she wanted was the warm water over her head and to scrub every inch of her skin.

“I need to be alone.” She avoided the answer and shoved away from him grabbing at her buckets.

He gently gripped her shoulders again, standing her up straight. He shook her body once, just enough to get her attention, and tried again to look her in the eye.

“Did he hurt you?”

She still couldn’t look at him, she focused on his second button on his shirt. It was at eye-level. She was so ashamed he’d seen her in that predicament. But so thankful he’d stopped Mark.

“Meghan, please.” His voice so quiet and concerned.

Meg looked down and her shoulders quaked in earnest. The care in his voice broke her. “He was going to. I didn’t want him to touch me and he did. He forced himself on me…” she couldn’t say anymore. She just looked away and sobbed.
If Chase had been here, this wouldn’t have happened,
she thought,
Mark wouldn’t have even been here.

“Meghan, I’m going to hold you for a minute. I won’t hurt you and I won’t push you. You’re shaking so hard you look like you’re going to break apart.” He waited for her to agree or not. When she only looked down, he took her in his arms. He was slow and gentle, she wanted to push back but only at first. He held her until she stopped trembling. Unlike Mark, his arms offered protection and gentleness, and true to his word, he did not hurt or push her.

He let her go and looked at her again but she wanted to be back in his arms where she’d just found safety. For the first time since Chase died, she’d felt it. She let herself look at his eyes and could feel their intensity, it made her vulnerable. She wanted to duck back into his arms to avoid those penetrating, grey pools.

Picking up her buckets he told her to sit and wait while he got her bath ready. Listening to him, she waited, sitting on the edge of her bed, watching him fill the tub. Rose came back to check on her while Jax filled buckets. He’d given Rose a few buckets to heat up a little of the water so it wouldn’t be too cold. When it was ready, he poured the hot water into the cold and it turned the water lukewarm. He told her it was ready and left her to have some privacy.

~~~

It was just past the dinner hour when Gus and Mark arrived in town and groups of people were outside, enjoying the cool of the evening. As the strange procession went by, first one person would stop and stare, then conversation would stop altogether, and soon it was silent on the walk in front of the businesses and homes. Gus didn’t look at anyone. He knew better than anyone how fast a story could spread and this would provide a good one.

The merchant, Mark Scott Sr., and his wife had come from the East. He and his wife had worked hard to make the mercantile what it was. Mark’s wife was a good woman, but disdainful of western education. Mark Jr. had been sent off alone to school in the East. The only time he’d been home with his family was for summers and by the time the boy had hit his early teens, he was already difficult to manage. This had only gotten worse the older and more independent he got.

Gus brought Mark to his parent’s store, their apartment was above. He left Mark attached to his horse and climbed up the outdoor stairs to, most likely, interrupt their supper. Mark coughing and trembling, cowered up at him, too tired to fight.

“Augustus, I didn’t expect to see you—.” Mr. Scott looked down at his son, his expression turned grave at seeing his son led through town like a calf.

“Scott, you can see I have your son downstairs. We need to have a private chat.” His demeanor said he wasn’t in the mood to debate his statement.

Mr. Scott came downstairs to see his son looking tired, dirty, and tied to his horse.

“Augustus? What’s the meaning of this?” His glare bore into Gus.

“Your son attacked my daughter today. One of two things will happen. Either you send him off somewhere to assure me he’ll grow up, or I’ll take him over to the sheriff and we can hope a little humanity will find him there, though I doubt it.”

“Your daughter?” Mr. Scott wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. “Mark has been an issue for some time. I’ve been aware of it, but he’s a grown man. I can’t be disciplining him now.”

“It’s too late for that. He should have had some of that when it would have done him some good.” Gus stood his ground.

“Mark has been fired from every job he managed to get. He can’t stay away from drink and his mother insisted he was merely young and that it would all pass.” Scott’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

“No accountability means he won’t grow up.” Gus growled.

“I know, but the Mrs. wouldn’t listen. I let my wife spoil Mark, he’s our only child.”

“I understand Scott, but that’s all in the past. My daughter was attacked today by your son who can’t control himself when he’s in the drink.”

“I know where to send him.” Mr. Scott finished. “I have a brother who manages a fishery in Maine. Hard work, long hours. They teach a boy respect. I should’ve sent him there years ago.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Augustus. He’ll be on his way tomorrow.”