Where the Wind Blows (3 page)

Jessie was figuring out sleeping arrangements when she heard a peculiar sound above the howling of the storm. Was that…
whistling
? Concentrating, she listened. There it was again.

Whistling, definitely. In moments, boot steps sounded on the porch, and the door opened. Startled, she swung around.

Chase Logan stood in the doorway. His hat was tipped back and he had a most mischievous look in his eyes.

“Evenin’, sweetheart. Save me any supper? I’m so hungry I could eat a horse, hooves and all. Sorry, Cody,” he chuckled, nodding in the direction of the barn.

Activity in the small cabin ceased. Three sets of eyes turned to peer at the rangy cowboy. Sarah scurried behind Gabe’s legs, wrapping one of her arms around each and peeking between the two.

“You—you’re back!” Jessie managed at last. “I wasn’t expecting you home so soon.” Her heart thudded and she wondered, was it possible to be pleased and frightened at the same time?

Chase tossed his saddlebags into the corner and hung his coat on a peg. He sauntered into the room like a man staking claim. He stopped just short of Jessie.

Bending low, he whispered into to her ear. “Did you miss me?” He straightened and looked her full in the face. His whiskey-colored eyes searched hers. Her face grew warm, and she dropped her gaze.

A feather’s width away, she breathed in his scent: peppermint, crispness of outdoors, and—man. Chase arched an eyebrow and turned to the others.

“I’ve surprised my little wife speechless,” he quipped. “Guess I’ll just warm up a bit before this cold turns into frostbite. Don’t let me interrupt you all.” With that said, he stepped to the fire and spread his hands before it.

Jessie hurried to the stove and began gathering biscuits and beans and a few leftover slices of the ham Mr. Hobbs had brought. She warmed the coffee and set him a place at the table, using the one tan earthen plate that wasn’t chipped. As she worked she studied Chase surreptitiously.

He stood by the fire, periodically stamping his feet. His face, chapped and red, was fascinating. He was, in fact, the finest-looking man she’d ever seen. Heat prickled her cheeks again. She tried to draw her gaze away, but couldn’t.

His forehead was rimmed with damp, wavy brown hair, creased from his hat. His eyebrows were dark and his lashes abundant. But it was his lips that caught and held Jessie’s attention. Rough from the weather, they were drawn up at the corners in a secretive smile.

Apparently feeling her stare, he turned. When he held her gaze in his, he nodded slowly, knowingly. Jessie snapped her attention back to the table and the supper she had set there. Her cheeks burned.

Why in the world has he returned?

“Your supper’s ready. Come and eat. I’ll pour your coffee.” Her gaze skittered whenever he looked her way, yet she could feel his stare almost as truly as if he’d reached out and touched her.

While Chase ate, Jessie readied Sarah for bed. She daubed the little girl’s face with a warm, moist cloth, then brushed and braided her hair.

Tucking her into the tiny bed Nathan had built in anticipation and moved into the room next to the fire, she kissed the child on the cheek. “Don’t be scared now, Sarah, honey,” Jessie whispered. “Gabe is going to be sleeping right here beside you. Isn’t that right, Gabe?”

“You betcha.” Gabe gave Sarah a wink. “Let’s hope she don’t keep me up with all her chatter.”

Sarah’s solemn gaze moved around the room until it rested on Mr. Logan. The child studied the big cowboy as he hunched over his meal. Before Sarah’s eyelids fluttered closed, Jessie leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Sleep well, my precious.”

Jessie turned to find Mr. Logan staring again. What was he up to, anyway? He was making her jumpier than a hen in a yard full of roosters.

He, on the other hand, seemed the picture of calm. He’d pushed his chair back from the table and was sipping contentedly from his cup. Catching her gaze once again, he winked and smiled suggestively—much like a husband waiting for the young’uns to fall asleep. The heat radiating from her face was almost unbearable. She reflexively smoothed the front of her apron and hurried to the sink.

The interplay went unnoticed by the travelers. Wearied by their trip, Mr. Hobbs and Gabe lay on their bedrolls by the fire next to Sarah’s bed. Their eyes were closed, but Jessie knew it was too soon for them to be fully asleep.

When she went to fetch the broom, Chase caught her hand and placed it on his shoulder. “I’ve had a catch in my shoulder all day, darlin’. Would you mind rubbin’ it?”

Jessie jumped back as if scalded.

Chase chuckled. “Don’t go gettin’ riled. The way I see it, a man has a right to ask his wife for a little back rub now and then.”

Jessie’s pulse thrummed through her veins. Chase had her over a barrel, and she knew it. What scared her was that he knew it, too. Biting her lower lip, she stepped behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“That’s my girl.”

He blew out a long breath and she felt him relax. With determination, Jessie leaned into her hands, squeezing his shoulders with all her might.

Chase lunged out of his chair. “Why, you—! I ought to turn you over my knee right now!” His voice rumbled ominously as he rubbed the offended spot.

“Wh-what’s the matter?” Mr. Hobbs sat up, trying to focus his eyes.

“Nothing. Nothing. I was just trying to rub a kink out of…of…his neck.” She smiled sweetly. “You can go on back to sleep.”

She glared at Chase. He glared at her. Neither of them wanted the other to get the upper hand. Then Jessie remembered the saying about catching more flies with honey than with vinegar. Smiling sweetly, she nodded toward the chair. Chase sat back down, slowly, and she massaged his large shoulders in earnest. Her heart firmly lodged in her throat.

“Thank you, Jessie.” He drawled out her name. “That feels real nice.”

She heard the lazy way he used her name. The tenderness he’d shown her yesterday when he’d first consoled her about Nathan’s death was gone.

Jessie turned, her gaze resting for a moment on her bedroom door. My word, what was she going to do now? He plainly meant to sleep with her and act the part of her husband. And there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop him, unless she revealed the truth. But that would mean losing Sarah.

Moments passed like steps on a hangman’s scaffold, each bringing her closer to disaster. “Would you care for anything else?” she asked, her voice soft and solicitous.

Chase’s eyes narrowed as he gave her a long look. Finally, he held up his cup.

Jessie took it to the stove, refilled it, and handed it back to him. “There you are. Take your time. I’ll just be getting ready for bed.”

The voice was sweet. Too sweet. Chase took a sip of the lukewarm brew, contemplating this puzzling switch. All of a sudden she seemed almost eager to turn in for the night. Maybe she wasn’t missing her dead husband as much as he’d thought. He took another sip.

Wasn’t
he
the one who was supposed to be making
her
nervous? Not the other way around. Actually, he had no intention of bedding Nathan’s widow. He’d…been teasing, to teach her a lesson.

He drained his cup and clumsily plopped it back in its saucer with a clink. Slowly his eyelids drifted down to halfmast. The cold weather must’ve taken more out of him than he’d realized. Resting his head in the palm of his hands, he closed his eyes.

Just for a moment. I’m so exhausted.

From the bedroom, Jessie peeked out the door. He was still sitting at the table, but his head was propped in his hands—a good sign.

With luck, Mr. Hobbs would be on his way home in the morning. Right now, though she had to figure out a way to get Mr. Logan into the bedroom.

Jessie fretted at how small the bed looked. It was definitely too small for his large frame, but she’d just have to manage somehow.

Tiptoeing, she blew out the lanterns, leaving only the one on her dresser burning. Returning to Chase, she bent close and whispered, “Psst, Mr. Logan…You awake?”

No answer.

She gave his shoulder a little shake.

“Uh-huh.”

“Get on up now and follow me.” Trying not to wake him too much, she took him by the shirtfront and pulled.

Nothing happened.

Shaking him a bit harder, she breathed into his ear, “Mr. Logan, please. I have a nice soft bed waiting for you. Think how good it’ll feel. Just a few steps away.”

A tiny smile curved the corners of his lips. He struggled to open his eyes.

With effort, she pulled him to his feet, slinging his arm over her shoulder. His weight almost toppled her. When she slid her other arm around his waist, he mumbled something and tried to snuggle her closer. Determinedly, she shepherded him into the bedroom.

With her door closed, she turned him around and gave a push. He sat with a plop on the end of her bed and fell back. His head glanced off the bedpost before landing on the pillow, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Serves you right.” She lifted a boot to remove it. She pulled. It didn’t budge. She tried again with the same results. “Dad-blasted old boot!”

“Turn around and straddle me, darlin’,” Chase mumbled groggily.

“What!”

“Go on now.” His words were slurred. “I won’t bite.”

Mortified, she hiked up her skirt and stepped over his leg, taking hold of his boot. She sucked in her breath and leaned forward. Her face flushed with the effort, but nothing happened.

Chase lifted his other leg and rested his boot firmly on her backside. He gave a push.

The boot came off with a whoosh, landing Jessie on her knees. She repeated the process for the other boot, blushing in the dim light at the feel of his stocking foot on her bottom. She straightened his legs out on the bed, checked to see that he was still asleep, and blew out the lantern.

In the dark room, she sat in her rocker and pulled her quilt around her shoulders. Chase’s breathing was the only sound.

What in land’s sake had she gotten herself into? She hadn’t known how much laudanum it would take to knock someone of his size unconscious—so she’d been extra generous. One thing was certain. He was going to be one hungover, angry cowboy in the morning.

A whisper of sound stirred Chase out of his sleep. His temples reverberated painfully, a result of little hammers banging away in his head. Light pierced through to his brain as he dragged his eyes open. Immediately, he slammed them closed.

Feeling the bed move slightly, Chase peeked through his lashes to the foot of the bed. There sat the little girl, the special delivery, snuggled in a blanket and playing quietly with something.

As if feeling his gaze, Sarah’s head popped up and she stared at him, startled. Chase groaned at the gentle sway of the bed, and her eyes widened even farther.

“Mornin’.” His attempt at soft came out gravelly and cross.

She watched him curiously for a moment, then ever so slightly elevated the socklike doll she held in her hands. He looked at it and then nodded his appreciation.

No mistaking Sarah understood his admiration, for she proceeded to play happily as if he weren’t there.

Chase rubbed his hand across his throbbing eyes and tried to settle his rolling stomach. Whatever Jessie had slipped him last night had knocked him out good. He hadn’t been this sick in years.

Jessie stood close to the slightly ajar bedroom door, listening. The murmur of voices drifted out. Mr. Logan must be awake now, and talking with Sarah. A niggle of fear stirred inside her stomach as she tried to hear what he said. She was
temped to peek in to see if any color had returned to his deathly white face, but resisted.

Earlier she’d started a fire and put on a fresh pot of coffee. Propelled by nervous energy, she’d busied herself getting the cabin warmed up before everyone was awake and wanting breakfast. When Sarah had begun to stir, in an attempt to give Mr. Hobbs and Gabe as much rest as possible, she’d bundled the child up and placed her at the foot of her bed in hopes she would sleep until the chill was off the cabin. At that time, Mr. Logan was still sleeping heavily, his breath coming out in long, labored whooshes.

Jessie had hardly slept a wink. She’d passed the night in her rocker, between the bed and the door, checking the cowboy each time he made a strange noise. Late in the night she’d awakened to find her feet frozen with chilblains and her bottom painfully asleep.

Sarah came running out of the bedroom. Jessie scooped her up and gave her a gentle hug.

“Good morning, Sarah.” Oh, she felt more wonderful than anything Jessie could remember. “Did you sleep well?”

Sarah popped two fingers into her mouth. Amazed at the happiness in the little girl’s eyes, Jessie carried her over to the fire. She sat with Sarah on her lap and pointed down at Gabe.

“Look at that sleepyhead. Will he ever wake up?” Jessie rubbed Sarah’s back slowly.

Sarah looked down at Gabe, then up into Jessie’s face, and smiled sweetly, displaying two beautiful dimples. It was the prettiest sight Jessie had ever seen. Emotion squeezed her chest and a biscuit-sized lump threatened to close her throat. She had waited for this moment for an eternity. It was a dream come true.

“Seepin’.” The child pointed a wet finger at him.

Jessie was so surprised at the sound of the raspy little
voice she nearly fell off her chair. “Yes. Yes, sweetheart, Gabe is sleeping. But I think it’s about time you woke him up, don’t you?”

Knowing that Sarah felt the most comfortable with the boy, Jessie placed her down beside him and let her cuddle up. Sarah squirmed into Gabe’s embrace and closed her eyes.

Jessie marveled at the closeness of the two. It would be nice if she could ask Gabe to stay on also. It would mean the world to Sarah, and he could be a big help around the farm. But another mouth to feed would be next to impossible. She was just scraping by as it was now. She knew from the orphanage that growing boys ate a whole lot of fixin’s.

The nape of Jessie’s neck prickled. Turning, she was startled to see Mr. Logan leaning against the doorjamb, the intensity of his stare chilling. How long had he been there? He was dressed exactly as he had been the night before, except for his boots. His stocking feet now brought excruciatingly painful memories to mind. He didn’t seem to notice her discomfort and ran his hand through his disheveled hair.

“Mornin’.” His voice was hard. His pasty white face contrasted with his dangerously bloodshot eyes. To say he didn’t look as if he felt very well would have been an understatement.

“Seems as if I had some help falling asleep last night. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

When she didn’t answer, he moved slowly to the table, gingerly pulled out a chair, and sat down as if on eggshells.

“Out with it, Jessie. I feel like hell, and I think you know the reason. What did you dose my coffee with?”

Hearing activity by the fire, Jessie panicked. “Laudanum.” She hurried over and sat by his side until her face was just inches from his. “Please, Mr. Logan, I’m begging you not to say anything to Mr. Hobbs about that or who you really are. I know you have every right to, especially after everything
I’ve done, but if you ever thought of Nathan as your friend, I beg you not to.”

“Exactly what is it you want me to do?” She was taken aback when he reached over and took her hand in his.

“Well…,” she began, her voice wobbling softly. She glanced briefly at the intimate pose of their hands and then back into his eyes. “I want you keep up your pretense of being Nathan until Mr. Hobbs leaves.”

“How long might that be?”

Hoping he wouldn’t notice, Jessie discreetly extracted her hand from the warmth of his, while leaning in even closer. It was hard getting her thoughts together with him only a snail’s breath away.

“I’m not exactly sure. Most likely only one more day.”

A lopsided grin slowly formed on his face. Without a doubt he was was enjoying this very much. She didn’t care. She’d beg if she had to. She’d do anything to keep Sarah.

“And”—he paused for five or six seconds, his form of torture, she was sure—“what would the job entail?”

“Just husbandly things. Work around the barn, hunt, chop wood…”

“What’s in it for me besides this hellish headache breaking in my skull?”

She cleared her throat softly, collecting her thoughts. “Hot meals. Clean laundry. Back rubs now and then.” She gestured around the room. “A warm cabin and…soft bed.”

He raised his eyebrows suggestively. She could hardly believe this was the same kindhearted, thoughtful cowboy who’d brought her the news about Nathan.

“And…” She faltered. “And everything—except that.”

“Except what?”

His overly innocent tone made her want to shout. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Chase Logan,” Jessie whispered tensely.

“Nope, I don’t. I’ve never had the pleasure of being married. I’m just an ignorant ole bachelor.”

“The stuff that happens behind closed doors.”

“Oh, now I’m starting to understand.” His head was propped in his hands as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it up on his own. Amusement shone in his eyes. “What about all the other things that happen outside the bedroom? Are they acceptable?”

Gabe sat up and stretched. “Mornin’.”

Jessie turned her startled eyes back to Chase, who looked about as pleased as a man could get. She snatched up his hand and held it between her own. “Yes, everything is acceptable, everything except that. Will you do it?”

“Under one condition,” he said all playfulness gone. “I’m running things around here. I’m the point, and you’re the drag. Understand?”

Jessie nodded, even though she had no clue he was referring to the positions of authority on a cattle drive.

“Oh, just one more thing.”

Jessie was rising when Chase brought her back down by a gentle tug on her hand. He looked directly into her eyes. “You best start calling me Nathan.”