by Linda Broday
“Well?” Luke sipped the hot brew. Would the man ever get down to business? He had Indians to round up, outlaws to lasso, and horse thieves to corral. A Ranger’s work was never done. “What’s got your tail feathers ruffled?”
“Murder. Jeremiah Gates Foltry of the Diamond J got hisself shot, and eyewitnesses say his wife done the shootin’.”
“You need me to arrest a woman? Don’t have the heart for it, huh?” Luke pushed his hat back with a forefinger.
“Nothin’ worse than a smart-assed Ranger.” Bart leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk. “I’d arrest her if I knew where in blazes she’s gone. Thing is, Jessie disappeared after she pumped Foltry full of holes.”
“No chance the eyewitnesses could be mistaken?” It wouldn’t be the first time one of Foltry’s people lied for him. Luke knew the rancher well. Couldn’t say he liked him much.
“She also shot one of them when they tried to stop ’er. Pete Morgan’s laid up over at the doc’s if you wanna ask him some questions.”
“When did this one-woman massacre take place?”
“Couple of weeks ago or thereabouts. I tracked her and the sorrel she stole past Devil’s Ridge before she put the slip on me at the Pecos River.”
Luke had to admire a woman who could outwit old Bart. The sheriff’s reputation as an expert tracker was well earned. “With the head start, she could be most anywhere by now. Any idea where? Relatives who might hide her out? A lover she ran off to link up with?”
“Her mother and father live here in El Paso. Zack an’ Phoebe Sutton couldn’t shed any light on where their daughter’d be going. Anything else, your guess is good as mine.”
“Even the lover part?”
“I don’t think so. Shoot, if Foltry even sensed another man sniffing around his wife, he’d have killed her a long time ago.”
Luke sipped on the coffee, speculating. “You’re not giving me much to go on here, Bart. A cold trail, no intended destination. Hell, I was having better luck with Victorio.”
“Quit your bellyachin’. Thought you Rangers didn’t need any help, could do most nigh anything if you set your mind to it.”
Luke grunted and downed more of the fortifying coffee. “It’d be nice for once if someone handed me something easy. Bet your whittling knife ol’ Luke’ll eventually get his man—or woman.”
“The more you sit here jawin’, the farther the lady’s gittin’.”
“Jessie Foltry may not even be alive. The desert has a way of exacting its own justice.” Luke lifted his boots from the desk and rose to his full height.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Sheriff Daniels stopped him on his way to the door. “Your sister sent a telegram if you happened to come through here.”
“Vicky?” It’d been a year or more since he last visited Tranquility. With his heart doing double time, he took the crisp envelope and ran his finger beneath the seal.
“Don’t suppose it’s anything you’d like to share with a lonely old man?” Bart squinted up at him. “You know you’re like fam’ly to me.”
“Well, I’ll be!”
“What? What are you ‘I’ll being’ about?”
Ignoring him, Luke finished reading the message. The news indeed thrilled him.
“Are you gonna stand there grinnin’ like a possum, or are you gonna tell me?” Bart sputtered, his nosy nature getting the best of him.
“It’s Duel.” Luke couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. He never passed a chance to tease the curious-minded man. “Best darn news I’ve heard in a coon’s age.”
Bart stood and put his hands on the pearl-handled six-shooters that hung from his girth. “If I hafta shoot you to find out, by God that’s what I aim to do. Now, what has that brother of yours gone an’ done?”
“He’s got himself hitched, Mister Nosy.”
“Married? Whooee! You’re darn tootin’ it’s good news. Does Vicky say who the lucky woman is?”
“Only that he brought her home with him. So, I take it Vicky didn’t know her.” Luke folded the telegram and stuck it in his pocket.
“That all she says? No other news?” Bart craned his neck.
“If you ain’t the beatin’est old codger I ever saw in all my born days. Time was when a man’s privacy counted for something.” Luke’s smile stretched from ear to ear.
“I’m a-thinkin’ there’s more. You wouldn’t have wrinkled your forehead if there hadn’t been.”
“Christ sakes! You know, Bart, maybe I should take you with me. Maybe the reason me an’ the boys can’t catch Victorio is because we sit around wrinklin’ our foreheads too much.”
Luke dodged the empty tin cup Bart threw.
“Quit funnin’ an old man. You know you’re hidin’ something.” Bart scratched his head in frustration. “Duel passed through here a while back and looked like the devil hisself was ridin’ on his back. Tore me up to see him like that. A changed man from his bounty-huntin’ days. Now, there was one tough hombre. Only thing separatin’ him from those killers he brought in was a heart of pure gold.”
“Duel lost his reason to live when Annie and his son died.”
“Great God in the morning! I wanted to ask, but you know I respect a man’s privacy.”
“When pigs fly! It’s more like he never gave you a chance.”
Bart gave a wounded sniff. “Be that as it may…suppose somethin’ happens with another wife? Most likely be the end of poor Duel. Quit your stallin’ and spill the beans. Anything else of interest in the damn letter?”
“If you have to know, Vicky says if I’d mosey back up there, I’d find another surprise waiting.” The smile faded. Lord knows he needed to visit his family. Suddenly Luke was homesick. “Didn’t say what in hell the surprise was.”
“Well, son, guess you’d best go find out.”
“I’ll see where Mrs. Jessie Foltry’s trail leads, and then, I might just do that.” Who knows? Maybe the trail would take him within shouting distance. Nothing’d thrill his heart more than to see his brother happy again.
Eight
“‘Sweet Dreams, Jessie.’ Now, couldn’t I have said something a little more meaningful?”
Though the workings in a female head could be as easy to read as fresh trail in a buffalo stampede, he got the impression he’d disappointed Jessie. It wasn’t a feeling he liked.
Preacher nickered gently and stuck his head over the stall, curiously watching Duel spread fresh hay in the south corner of the barn. A lantern illuminated the structure, casting a soft glow over the interior. The damp chill in the air promised the need of a fire.
“I know. A man don’t need his horse telling him he’s an utter fool.”
After he’d made a cozy place to sleep, he unrolled his bedding and got a wool blanket for cover.
“Fine thing for a man on his wedding night.”
The horse nodded his head as though in agreement. “But I have good reason. If you’d seen Jessie’s face, you’d understand. For God’s sake, the woman nearly crawls out of her skin every time I walk into the room.”
Not that he expected anything different.
“We’re not really married, you know,” he continued to the watchful animal. “Not in the regular way. She’s in need of a roof over her head and a reason to live. Reckon I can provide the roof, but not sure about the other part. Maybe in time.”
Preacher pawed the ground. The ruckus brought the sorrel to life, causing the mare to neigh loudly. Then the goat began a chorus of blehs.
“Aunt Bessie’s garter! I may as well be sleeping in Noah’s ark. See what you’ve done? You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Preacher eyed him dolefully.
Duel sat down on the straw. “That’s better. Let a man get some rest.”
He lowered the wick in the lantern beside him, casting the room in darkness. Instantly, the noisy animals calmed. He stretched his length onto the pallet, letting out a loud sigh.
There might come a day when he would move int
o the house. Not into Jessie’s bed, but perhaps on the floor. Sharing the same bed would never happen, he reminded himself. Anyway, he was more partial to the hard ground and fresh air.
Then he had to consider Jessie’s distrust of men. Hell, that even took into account the one she’d married today. There for a moment she’d almost bolted from the church. The panic in her eyes had made Duel wonder if they’d been like that when Jeremiah Foltry stuck the hot brand to her.
Damn! His duty now was to protect Jessie from the hangman’s noose. It was the least he could do for the woman who could sing like an angel and loved a helpless little girl more than life itself.
His first order of business was taking Cinnabar to her new owner. By all that’s holy, he hated asking Jessie to give up the horse that meant the world to her. It represented one more thing she would lose. Double damn!
Though the day’s events had taken their toll, he couldn’t sleep. The strange surroundings took the blame. No moon or stars overhead. No crackling fire to disturb the quiet. No auburn-haired woman with blue eyes softly breathing nearby.
Without raising the wick on the lantern, he wandered to the door. Thin, wispy clouds cast shadows across the full moon. Light fog created a haze in the valley, adding a ghostly appearance. And lending to the haunting ambiance of the night, an owl hooted overhead in the branches of the oak tree.
Movement in the house suddenly caught his attention. Lamplight in the room outlined a feminine profile. Jessie couldn’t sleep either. He wondered if she worried, if she felt safe.
Thank goodness he’d gotten the name business straightened out. A wife didn’t go around calling her husband “mister.” Only now he found himself in a fine kettle of fish. He was stuck with addressing her as Jessie. Somehow “ma’am” seemed safer.
What possessed him to kiss her fingertips? Not a brilliant thing to do under the circumstances. Yet it had seemed natural. The intimate holding of her long, delicate fingers had caught him unprepared. He could still taste her skin—fresh morning dew on a honeysuckle vine.
Just then, Jessie turned. Although he knew the darkness shielded him, he moved farther into the shadows. Her piercing stare out the window unnerved him. As if she could see inside his soul and found him wanting.
Lord knows he hadn’t told a lie—she, Marley Rose, and he were broken people, but somehow together they worked.
Neither the hazy night nor the space between them could dim the brightness of Jessie’s gaze through the window. If he breathed deeply enough he could almost smell the faint feminine fragrance that swirled around her. Without meaning to, he closed his eyes and inhaled.
What he was thinking could most certainly complicate his life. A man in his situation needed fortitude.
Duel straightened. Perhaps he’d just try to think of her as his sister. Yeah, that might work. A sister. If only he could remember to remind himself.
*
“I pray you’ll find a good home, Cinnabar.” Jessie tried to remain brave as she stroked the sorrel’s neck for the last time. Yet, it pained her most to realize Cinnabar would pay the ultimate price for what she’d done. She’d been there for the mare’s birthing and there when ranch hands had ridden her for the first time. The branding part had been the only event in the horse’s life she’d missed.
“I love you…” Her voice broke. She buried her face in the rich coat, away from Duel.
The gentle hand on her shoulder again came unexpectedly.
“I’m truly sorry…Jessie. Wish it didn’t have to be this way.” Duel squeezed her shoulder lightly.
The warmth and compassion that encircled her now served as a springboard for her hate. Jeremiah’d stolen her trust, he’d rendered her incapable of bearing children, and he’d taken away something wondrous—her ability to be a wife to her new husband. She’d give anything to throw herself into Duel’s protective arms, relax in his embrace, and not be afraid.
“Come now.” He eased her gently aside. “It’s time to go. Don’t worry, I’ll threaten the man with his life if he ever treats Cinnabar with anything other than kindness.”
She felt overwhelming gratitude. The new owner would have no choice but to treat the mare well after Duel got done with him.
A tremulous sigh escaped her. Then she remembered something. The gun. She reached into the saddlebag.
“Might as well dispose of this, too, while you’re at it. Don’t think I need it anymore.”
His amber gaze met and held hers for a long, breath-stealing moment. Then, without a word he tucked it into his waist.
Marley Rose gurgled happily in the crook of Duel’s arm. Jessie reached for her.
“Pa pa pa pa.”
“Papa has to go, sweetheart.” She avoided Duel’s scowl by pretending to wipe a smudge from the child’s face. It wouldn’t hurt to encourage her. The man would have to be crazy to resist the girl’s love for long.
“I told you. She’ll call me Duel. I’m not her papa. Don’t put ideas in the child’s head.” He mounted Preacher, then reached for Cinnabar’s reins.
“I’m afraid she’ll call you whatever she wants, no matter what you or I say.”
At her gentle rebuke, his tone softened. “That may be, but it’ll be best to keep telling her otherwise. In time she’ll understand.”
Duel turned the mustang toward town. “Be back soon. I’ll pick up seed while I’m there. I figure to start clearing the field today.”
Jessie watched them trot to the bend in the road. “Good-bye, faithful friend.”
The hurt in her chest didn’t ease after they disappeared from view. She doubted it would anytime soon.
“We’ve got work to do, young lady.”
Marley crawled on the kitchen floor while Jessie washed and dried the breakfast dishes. A pleasant little thing, the child barely made a peep unless she was hungry. Jessie glanced at the baby from time to time to make sure she wasn’t trying to stick anything inappropriate in her mouth. Once she discovered Marley pulling up to a chair and standing. Jessie handed her a big wooden spoon. Marley released her hold and stood on her own, playing with the spoon.
“You’re such a good girl. Walk to me. You can do it, baby.” Jessie held out her hand. “Come to Mama.”
Big, dark eyes looked up. Marley’s chubby legs wobbled unsteadily as she tried to move them. Insecurity suddenly overcame her, and the child dropped to sit on the floor.
“That’s all right, darlin’. No rush. You’ll do it when you’re good and ready.” She stooped to kiss the top of her head. “Your papa will be so proud of you.”
“Pa pa pa pa.”
A noise outside aroused her curiosity. Had Duel returned so soon? A quick glance out the window made her yank off her apron and smooth back a few errant tendrils. Her new sister-in-law had picked today to come visit.
“Come in, Vicky.” She hid her clenched hands behind her back. “I’m afraid your brother’s gone into town.”
Vicky smiled broadly. “Good. Didn’t come to see him anyway.”
“Will you have a seat?” She hadn’t expected company. Thank goodness she’d cleaned and dusted some more.
The woman offered a blue piece of crockery. “I brought some sourdough starter.”
“You think of everything.” Vicky had a good heart, even if she was a little on the strong-minded side. Her kindness touched Jessie, reminded her of all she missed in the ways of family. “Now I can bake that bread I wanted. Thank you so much.”
“Don’t mention it. I promised Duel I’d bring over some of the twins’ baby things.” Vicky took a box she’d been balancing on a hip from under her arm. Clothing items, various and sundry, overflowed from it. Once Jessie relieved her of the burden, she curiously looked around. “Where’s my cute little niece?”
Just then Marley crawled from the kitchen, no doubt lured by the sound of voices. Vicky lifted her for a hug.
“She’s so precious. Her dark-brown eyes make me think of melted chocolate. Makes me want another baby, but Roy sa
ys he hopes the good Lord gives us a little more time before He blesses us again. What about you?”
“Me?” The word seemed no more than a croak. Suddenly the room became stuffy. Perspiration dampened her bodice.
“You and Duel. I know it’s kinda soon, but are you planning on having children?”
Jessie was grateful for Vicky’s preoccupation with Marley Rose. By the time Vicky glanced her way again, she had a smile firmly in place.
“I suppose…like you said, it’s early yet.” She began sorting through the items Vicky had brought. “You’re so thoughtful to give these to Marley.”
“Shoot, they weren’t doing anyone any good stuck in the attic. Now were they, Sweetie Pie?” The woman cooed to Marley, who was fascinated by bonnet ribbons. “Auntie Vicky is glad she can put them to good use.”
“Would you like a cup of tea or something to eat? I made some johnnycake for breakfast. Duel didn’t eat before he left.” He’d only come in for a cup of coffee. And though he’d played with Marley, he appeared uncomfortable in his own house. She suspected he was in a hurry to get back outdoors, and he had Cinnabar to dispose of. A sad melancholy fell over her.
“Thank you, but I wouldn’t care for anything. Jessie?” Vicky’s soft entreaty lifted Jessie’s attention from the cracks in the hardwood floor.
“I won’t even pretend to imagine myself in your shoes,” the woman went on. “Married to a man you hardly know. The good Lord can verify that my bullheaded brother is not the easiest person to live with. He can sure try your patience.”
Vicky paused as if collecting her thoughts. Jessie kept silent and waited.
“What I’m trying to say is welcome to the family. All of us are tickled to death. When Duel buried Annie and their son, we worried ourselves sick. We didn’t think the day would ever come when, for whatever reason, he’d marry again.” Vicky rose and put her arm around her. “Like Papa said, ‘From our lips to God’s ear.’ No matter what, Jessie, you fit into our family.”
“Thank you, Vicky.” Tears threatened to fall. These people knew nothing about her, yet they opened their arms and hearts to her. “Your acceptance means everything to me.”
