Where the Wind Blows (2 page)

Unable to sleep, Jessie wrapped her thick quilt around herself and stepped out into the chilly night air. The cabin walls were closing in around her, making it impossible for her to stay in bed a moment longer. Sighing, she plunked herself on the porch step and gazed wistfully into the darkness.

Poor Nathan. He’d always tried to do his best. He’d been kind to her and a good provider. Perhaps affectionate gratitude wasn’t the kind of feeling a wife should have for her husband, but theirs had been an unusual marriage.

“Mind if I join you?”

Jessie jumped at the sound of the deep voice. “I don’t mind,” she replied, her heart pounding at Mr. Logan’s sudden appearance.

His large form emerged out of the darkness. To Jessie’s relief, he sat on the corner of the woodbin, some ten feet away. Silence encompassed the two.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said finally. “Mouse kept waking me.” His boots scraped across the ground as he stretched out his legs.

Her face felt puffy and hot, and she was thankful for the cover of the night. “I needed a little air, too.”

Jessie drew her gaze away from the bulky outline of his coat and looked up into the velvety night sky. A star streaked brightly across the starry canopy spanning the horizon.

“Did you see that?”

“Yes.”

“It was so beautiful.”

“Um.”

Jessie’s mood lightened. It’d been so long since she’d had any company at all, even the unsettling presence of Mr. Logan was welcome. “Sometimes I pretend all those stars are angels watching over me. Do you suppose there’re that many in heaven?”

A moment passed. He shifted his weight. She pictured his warm brown eyes looking her way.

“Don’t rightly know,” he finally replied. “Don’t believe too much in heaven or hell.”

“You don’t believe in God?”

“Not since I was a boy.”

“What do you think happens then…when we die?” She’d always believed in God, no matter how bad things got.

“You die, that’s all. Dust to dust, as they say.”

Jessie didn’t respond. Clearly this stranger had heartaches of his own. He was tough and calloused from life. A nomad on all accounts.

Mr. Logan stood. “You best get some rest.”

He was so tall that from where Jessie sat, he looked as if he could pluck one of those stars right out of the sky.

“You’re right,” she said softly. “Tomorrow’s sorrows will be here soon enough. Good night, Mr. Logan.”

A knock on the door startled Jessie out of her sleep. The tapping came again, this time followed by Mr. Logan’s deep voice.

“Mrs. Strong, you awake?”

In a sleepy panic, Jessie rolled from her fluffy mattress and grabbed the dress she’d worn the day before. She pulled it over her head and then fumbled with the long row of tiny buttons running from her chin to her waist. Realization of who was out there, and why, dawned on her, and a wave of sorrow filled her.

She ran her fingers once through her hair, trying to tame its wildness. After splashing water on her face, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Puffy red eyes gazed back.

Mr. Logan’s footsteps moved away as she hurried to open the door. He turned and faced her.

“Sorry, I should’ve realized you might want to sleep in after the night you had,” he apologized.

“Have to face the day sooner or later.” Jessie took a good long look. Just the sight of him standing in the morning light seemed to put things to right. A soft coating of trail dust covered his broadcloth shirt, but his face and hair were damp from a morning washing. Warm brown eyes, the ones she’d imagined last night, made her insides feel feathery.

“I’m going to pass through town on my way north.” His hat dangled from his fingertips. “I can deliver a message if you’d like. Anyone you want me to notify?”

“No one.”

“Don’t worry, Jessie.” The way he said her name almost erased her sudden loneliness. “Things have a way of working out.” He clutched his hat to his chest and looked hesitant. “If I get a fire going, any chance you could make us a pot of coffee?”

Jessie held his gaze for a span of one heartbeat, then turned and stepped toward the stove, leaving the door open for him to enter.

With steaming cups of coffee and a plate full of hot biscuits, they sat without talking. They heard a light sprinkling of raindrops on the old shingle roof, mingled with the crackling of the fire. The smell of wet earth drifted inside.

If she didn’t want to talk, that was fine with him. The men he rode with were a quiet lot. He was used to the silence. Still, her nearness was slightly unsettling in a pleasant sort of way. As much as he’d wanted a cup of coffee before riding
out, maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to come back to the cabin.

She wiped her mouth with her napkin and set it back in her lap. “Where are you from, Mr. Logan?”

“Nowhere in particular. Never knew my parents, or where I was born. Guess you’d call me a drifter of sorts.”

She was looking at him in expectation. She tipped her head thoughtfully. Why he felt compelled to tell her more was a mystery. “I tried once. Settling down, that is. I saved until I had enough to buy a small spread. Just large enough to run fifty head or so.”

The memory of Molly and the plans they’d made together hurt. He looked away. “Ranching lost its appeal. So I started riding for other outfits. I still own it, but it’s run-down and vacant. Sure to be overgrown in thistle by now.”

“I see.”

She sipped her coffee. Chase thought she was going to go on. He hoped she would. He liked the sound of her voice, soft and feminine.

When he was ten, there’d been a schoolteacher who’d wanted him to come to her class. She’d hunt him down each day and try to coax him into the schoolhouse. He never did go. All the same, Jessie’s voice reminded him of that same woman who’d showed him concern as a boy.

“And you?” Her eyes were remarkable. Their particular shade of blue was one he’d never before seen. Amazingly, they sparkled in the morning light. “Are you from around here?”

“New Mexico Territory. Like you, I too was an orphan. I grew up in an orphanage there.”

Pausing, she fiddled with the biscuit on her plate as if gathering her courage. “I’ve a delivery coming soon. Probably next week. It’s very important.” Her brows knit together thoughtfully. “Nathan’s death could change everything in
my life. And not the way you think.” She searched his face unabashedly as if she’d find her answers hidden there.

From her tone it was obvious this was a very important matter. He didn’t quite know how to respond. “Well…” he began slowly.

She watched his mouth intently as if waiting for his answer to materialize out of thin air.

He straightened. “Some folks look at their common sense through a magnifying glass, second-guessing themselves all the time. Now, to me, you seem like the clever sort of woman who could figure out most anything.”

“Not this,” she confessed. “When we married, Nathan promised me we could adopt Sarah, a little girl who lived in the orphanage with me. Before his last trip, he finally gave his permission to write asking for her. I did right away. They are bringing her out now.”

He nodded. Listening. He took another biscuit, broke it open, and watched steam curl to the ceiling like morning mist off a watering hole.

“Surely they won’t let me keep her if Nathan is dead? Will they?”

“Next week, you say?”

“I’m not exactly sure. I don’t know the day they left.”

“Truthfully, Mrs. Strong, I don’t know about adoption and the rules of such, but I truly believe honesty is always the best policy. Just tell them what happened, and most likely everything will be fine.” That was hogwash, but what else could he say?

She considered him silently for a moment, as if mulling over what he’d just said, then glanced at this cup. “More coffee?”

“No, thank you. I’d best be going.”

Chase took the final bite of his biscuit. He dusted the crumbs from his fingers over his plate and placed his napkin
on the blue and white-checkered tablecloth. Standing, he reached for his hat. “Much obliged for the meal, Jessie. It’s been a pleasure meeting you. I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

The rumbling of wagon wheels could be heard outside. Jessie sprang to her feet. Chase turned. His gun hand eased down into position.

“Hello in the cabin. Anyone home?”

“Mr. Hobbs!” Without hesitation Jessie rushed to the door and flung it open.

Out in the wagon, huddled in blankets, sat three forms, two large and one very small—all drenched to the skin from the morning rain shower.

“It’s them!” she cried breathlessly. “Oh, my stars—they’re early.”

“Your delivery?”

“Y-yes.”

As she stepped onto the porch, she glanced over her shoulder to Chase, who was close behind. He reached out and gently tipped her chin up so he could look into her eyes.

“Everything will work out. Don’t put your umbrella up ’fore it rains.” She gave him a tremulous smile, appreciative of his confidence, before hurrying out to the yard.

The occupants of the wagon look around. She recognized Mr. Hobbs. The little bundle in the middle was Sarah. A young man of about thirteen or so was unfamiliar.

The lad hopped to the ground and began unloading baggage. Jessie hurried out to the wagon and lifted Sarah from the seat, hugging her to her breast. The child pushed her fists against Jessie’s shoulders, craning her neck to find Mr. Hobbs. Her face turned cherry red as she started to cry.

“She’s not used to you no more, Jess,” Mr. Hobbs said apologetically. He gently lifted the child from her arms.

“But—but—,” Jessie stammered, hurt. “I’m not a stranger.”

“Of course not. Just give her a little time to get reacquainted.”

Jessie was crushed. She’d not realized Sarah had been so young when she left, she might not remember her. The little girl had been the center of her every thought. She tried not to show her disappointment as Mr. Hobbs beamed with pleasure at their reunion.

“Jessie, it’s wonderful to see you. You’ve grown into a beautiful woman, but then, I always knew you would.” He gave her an affectionate squeeze. “This is Gabe Garrison. He’s only been with us a short time, but since he’s older, I asked him to make the trip with me. An extra pair of hands is always useful on the trail.”

The young man turned a weary face to Jessie. He was a handsome boy with thick chestnut hair, a few strands of which fell down into clear green eyes. With an unsure smile, he brushed at his travel-stained clothes and stuck out his hand. “Howdy, ma’am.”

“Welcome,” Jessie replied, smiling.

Chase watched curiously from the porch. The older man was obviously very fond of Jessie, like an uncle or father, he supposed. As if feeling the scrutiny from Chase, the man glanced up at the porch and approached him eagerly with an outstretched hand. He grasped Chase’s hand and pumped it strongly.

“Nathan Strong, good to finally meet you. I’m glad to see Jessie has married such a strapping young man.” He smiled and winked at Jessie. “Handsome, too. Does this old man’s heart good to know you and Sarah finally have a home of your own.”

Chase looked at Jessie and felt his face go hot. Jessie hesitated, then stepped up to his side and threaded her arm through his. She smiled up at him lightly, but her eyes were pleading.

His narrowed as he turned back to Mr. Hobbs. A moment passed in complete silence. Mr. Hobbs tilted his head questioningly.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. Any friend of Jessie’s is…a friend of mine.”

As the group shuffled into the cabin noisily and settled in, Chase brooded in the doorway. One minute he was Chase Logan, getting ready to ride out. The next he was Nathan Strong—with a wife and family.

“I’m going,” he said suddenly. “Don’t wait supper.” Turning, he seized his coat from the wall peg and stomped out the door.

He crossed the yard quickly, ignoring the puddles of mud he was traipsing through. Why the heck had he volunteered to ride out here in the first place? That was mistake number one. His second was coming in this morning for a cup of coffee. Couldn’t a man have a little hot sustenance to make it through the day? At the bar in town is where he ought to be right now, by golly. At the bar!

Halfway to the barn Jessie caught him.

“Mr. Logan, wait.” She threw herself against him in an effort to halt his progress. She grabbed his arm and pulled, setting her heels in the mud. Chase strode on as if she were no bigger than a speck in a sandstorm.

“I’m sorry, honestly,” she panted, struggling to keep hold of him. “I never meant for that to happen. It just did, and then I didn’t know what to do.”

Her hair tumbled across her face, and her rain-dampened skirt caught between her legs, almost tripping her. Chase stopped abruptly, sending her twirling like a top. He snatched her by the back of the collar moments before she landed on the ground. They were both spattered in mud and soaked with rain. If he weren’t so darn mad, he’d have laughed.

“What I did was outlandish. I know. But I had to. The thought of Sarah going back to that awful, cold, scary place is…unthinkable. But if you could stay for one day, just one more, it would mean the world to me. And her.
And
Nathan.” Her hands gripped his shirt frantically.

Chase looked away, avoiding her pleading face. Still, in her disheveled, rain-soaked dress, she was beautiful. He’d already helped her get her precious delivery, right? Now he’d just be on his way. No sense getting tangled any tighter in this sticky web.

He glanced down into her face, where a mixture of emotions clouded her eyes. He brushed a strand of hair from her rain-dampened cheek. “Good luck, Jessie,” he said softly, his anger put on hold for the moment. He turned to leave.

“Don’t go. You’re him. My guardian angel. The one my mother told me about before she left me. I realized it back there on the porch. I need your help.”

That was a low blow Chase hadn’t been expecting. Guardian angel! Why didn’t she go and ask Molly about that? Some protection he’d been for her. Some damn security!

Jessie’s hands fell to her sides when he pulled out of her grasp and walked away. Inside the barn he quickly saddled Cody, mounted up, and ducked through the door, finding her still standing where he’d left her. He loped up the hill never looking back.

Jessie made her way back to the cabin. She hurried into her bedroom without looking at anyone and closed the door, slumping against it.

She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the tears threatening to spill out. She would drive that man from her mind. She had to. Sarah was scared, tired, and hungry. She needed some love and attention.

As she unbuttoned her wet, muddy dress, Mrs. Hobbs’s words echoed from her past.
You’re plain, Jessie McGentry. Can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. But take heart, lots of men value a strong back over beauty—regardless of scars.
For the thousandth time in her life Jessie wondered how sweet, caring Mr. Hobbs had been yoked to such a malicious woman.

As was her habit, Jessie reached around and touched one of the red welts that covered the majority of her back. Physically, she was healed, and they never hurt. As long as she didn’t look at them, she could forget about their grotesque presence. But, like it or not, they
were
there, with their semblance of disgrace tenaciously trying to undermine her confidence.

She tossed the dress into the corner and donned her other. Her scars had given her a strength she hadn’t had before, she reminded herself.
Everything
happened for a reason. Even horrible things. One just had to look hard enough to see what that reason was.

Jessie swiftly splashed her face with water and combed her hair, then braided it down her back. She squared her shoulders and forced a smile to her lips. She
was
strong, and alive. She’d get through this predicament and keep Sarah, too. But—the deception was hard. It went against everything she believed in. And especially since it was dear Mr. Hobbs she was lying to. She must get him on his way back to the orphanage as soon as possible, before he had a chance to discover the truth about Nathan.

Reentering the room quietly, Jessie looked about. Gabe sat in front of the fire with Sarah perched on his knee. When the child saw Jessie, however, her smile disappeared.

Jessie’s soft voice grew gentler still. “Sarah, honey, don’t you remember me?”

Sarah stared, motionless. It was as if she hadn’t heard a word. Jessie turned questioningly to Mr. Hobbs.

“No worries. She can hear all right,” he said. “And she understands everything. But she rarely speaks. Every once in a while she surprises us, though. Don’t you, Sarah?”

Sarah’s somber gaze tracked slowly from Jessie to Mr. Hobbs and back again.

“Quiet is fine with me.” Jessie ran a finger lightly down Sarah’s cheek.

“Amen,” Mr. Hobbs agreed, chuckling. Gentle warmth shone in his eyes. “Just between you and me, I’ll take the quiet ones any day.”

Gabe snorted in disbelief. “Well, she wasn’t very shy this morning. When I opened my eyes, there was Sarah, grinnin’ like the skunk that got the last egg. She’d gotten into the honey and had it smeared all over.” Shaking his head, he gazed fondly at the child.

“How long will Mr. Strong be gone?” Mr. Hobbs asked.

“I’m not sure.” She looked away quickly, cringing inside for lying so easily. “What are your plans?” she asked, changing the subject. “How long can you stay?”

“Not too. We’re shorthanded back home. I wish I could stay a few days and visit with you a spell. It’s been a time since you left the orphanage,” he replied with an apologetic look.

Jessie’s guilt thickened at her feeling of relief.

“Tonight will have to suffice—if the weather doesn’t get any worse, that is. Oh, I almost forgot,” he added, rummaging around in his satchel, pulling out a tattered piece of paper.

“I’ll need to get both of your signatures on the adoption papers.”

Wind blasted through the trees, causing pine bows to bob and wave crazily in the air. The storm had grown into a near gale, with sudden strong gusts that bent many saplings precariously close to the ground. Gray and black thunderheads tumbled furiously across the sky, mirroring Chase’s rumbling frustration.

He sulked silently as he rode, brooding. The stormy weather, with its promise of snow, added to his black mood. Normally he found Cody’s easy stride relaxing and enjoyable, but now it did little to ease his mind.

If she was looking for husband number two, she’d picked the wrong man. He’d always known he had too much tumbleweed in his blood to ever settle anywhere. Besides…after Molly, he’d vowed he’d never be responsible for anyone ever again.

With an exaggerated grunt, he pulled his hat lower on his head, sending a rivulet of water gushing onto his saddle horn, over his leather chaps, and down to the wet earth. Hell! The storm was building, and so was his mood. He clamped his legs around his gelding a bit too hard, and in return, the horse pinned his ears irritably. Chase reined him toward a thick copse of pines, in hopes of finding a little cover. He’d wait out the worst of it.

As a boy, and homeless, he’d been a target for bullies, and even a few mean-spirited men. He’d been taken advantage of, spit on, and laughed at. He’d been run out of town twice. Jessie’s deception stirred up an anthill of anger inside he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He’d worked darn hard to forget all that—to get past it. He didn’t appreciate being reminded. Still, he’d sure felt funny when she’d threaded her arm through his, claiming him as her own.

Well, he wasn’t a boy anymore, and he’d stopped taking what was being dished out long ago. Despite the meager food sustaining him, when he’d hit puberty, he’d grown tall and muscular. He’d learned how to fend for himself, and although he didn’t go looking for trouble, he didn’t back down from it, either. Men walked a wide circle around him.

Spotting a sheer wall at the base of an arroyo, he headed in its direction. “Whoa, Cody.” He beat his gloved hands together and reached back into his saddlebag for the small flask of brandy he carried for cold days like this.

He rummaged around, identifying each article by feel. Cody’s brush. Pocket watch. Pouch of jerky. Harmonica. His hand stilled. Something unfamiliar. He felt it again.

Stunning realization hit him like a bullet between the eyes. He cursed a blue streak through clenched teeth and pounding heart.

Feeling Chase’s agitation, Cody tossed his head several times and snorted loudly. Chomping on the curb bit, he pranced in place and pinned his ears.

Nathan’s bankroll! He’d forgotten the most important reason he’d made the trip out to Jessie’s place. First, he’d been distracted by her blue eyes and pretty smile. Then in his anger, he’d ridden off without even giving it a thought.

“We have to go back. Six hundred and ninety-eight dollars is a hell of a lot of money.” He brought the leather pouch around to the front of the saddle and looked inside.

There was a roll of greenbacks Nathan had won in the poker game the night he was killed. A bank note from his last job. A few loose coins and a golden, heart-shaped locket on a rusty silver chain. On the back, the name Jessie was inscribed.

“She’ll think I did this on purpose. That I wanted to come back. She’ll be dancing the Texas two-step when she sees me,” he bit out crossly. He stuffed the pouch back into
his saddlebag and sat in silence. Long minutes passed. He stared across the blustery landscape. His Stetson took a beating as he leaned into the wind’s anger. Slowly, he felt an old familiar grin creep across his face. Satisfaction spread through his bones.

“Well, Cody, maybe at first she’ll be happy to see me, but then…Guardian angel, huh? She’ll be wishing for one when I teach her a little lesson. We can spare a few days, let this storm blow over. The ranch in Miles City isn’t expecting me for another three weeks. Besides, she
is
Nathan’s widow, after all,” he enlightened the edgy horse.

Chase dismounted and gazed across the landscape back toward his new destination. He slapped the reins methodically over and over onto his glove-covered palm. “I felt a mite guilty riding off with her so unprepared for winter. I most certainly did.”

He exhaled with satisfaction, sending a cloud of vapor billowing from his mouth. “I can’t wait to see her face when she sees I’ve decided to come back and play ‘husband’ after all.”