Knight on the Texas Plains

by Linda Broday

  “I was just telling your wife it’s a good thing she wore green,” Hampton interrupted. “Saint Patrick’s Day and all. You haven’t been away so long you’ve forgotten the tradition about pinching those who don’t wear green, have you, Duel?”

  Anyone who dared pinch his wife would get some broken fingers, and that wouldn’t be all. He returned the man’s cool challenge with an icy glare. Then a slight jostle, as if entirely by accident, sent red cider down the front of Hampton’s starched white shirt. The man sputtered and fumed.

  “Sorry there, Pierson.” He didn’t bother to hide his smile. “Looks like you’ll have to go clean yourself off.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, Mrs. McClain.” Hampton could barely control his temper. Stiffly tipping his head, he turned.

  “And when you come back, find yourself someone else to talk with, Pierson. My wife will be occupied for the remainder of the evening.” Duel felt satisfied with the events.

  “You did that on purpose.” Jessie’s wide eyes held puzzlement as she gasped. “You should be ashamed.”

  “Me? What did I do?”

  Luke strolled over, chuckling. “Was I mistaken, or did Pierson have a red stain down the front of his shirt? He came by me so fast I barely got a glimpse.”

  “Seems someone thought he looked better that way.” Jessie returned Duel’s smile, and the warmth of it reawakened the embers he’d doused with cold night air.

  “How about we head for home, Jess? I’ve had all the excitement I can stand for one night.” That was putting it mildly.

  *

  “Whoa, Preacher.” He pulled to a stop at the front door and jumped down from the wagon seat.

  Clouds rolled across the moon as he relieved Jessie of her sleeping burden before lending her a hand down. She’d been very quiet on the ride home, and he wondered if she was angry. His experience with womenfolk had taught him he’d know sooner or later. He supposed he might’ve overreacted just a bit. But he wasn’t sorry.

  Inside the house, he kissed Marley and put her to bed.

  “Guess I’ll take Preacher to the barn and turn in for the night.” He kept his hands busy twirling his hat, his eyes on the door.

  “Could you stay for a moment?”

  The fleeting glance he cast in her direction showed worry shimmering behind her distant gaze.

  “I suppose.” He took the chair across from her. “Shoot.”

  “It might not be anything, but then again… Tonight a woman by the name of Charlotte Brown said she knew some Rumfords in Pecos County. She asked if they were any relation.”

  “Strange coincidence. Rumford is not an everyday name.”

  “That’s what I thought when I spied the baking powder can and picked it. Why didn’t I choose Smith or Jones?”

  “Charlotte Brown, you say? Don’t think I know her.”

  “She was an elderly woman well past her prime. Chattered a mile a minute. Could it be she was merely pretending so she’d have something to talk to me about?”

  “Possible. Still, if someone like Luke started nosing around, it could upset the applecart.” Knowing his brother’s penchant for meddling, he wouldn’t put it past him. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it was nothing. I think all in all the affair went smoothly.”

  Except for the agitation her dress caused. She looked so beautiful, a vision in green. Across from her now, seeing her slender neck sloping down to meet her ample bosom, he felt overheated again. The mysterious green dress.

  “Tell me something.”

  Jessie waited expectantly for him to continue.

  “I’ve wondered all evening where you got the dress you’re wearing. Mind me asking?”

  She smoothed the sprigged print. “I took apart several of your wife’s dresses and fashioned one that you’d never seen. I added lace from one, cord from another, and rearranged the neckline.” Jessie bit her lip nervously. “Are you mad?”

  Madly attracted could describe his mood. “Not even a little bit. I told you to do what you will with them. It’s most becoming on you.”

  That she would go to such lengths to avoid reawakening memories touched him deeply. It also meant she must care for him some to go out of her way to spare his feelings.

  Relief swept her features. “Thank you, Duel.”

  He rose to go before he did something he shouldn’t—like taking her in his arms, and kissing those lush, pink lips.

  “Jess?” He paused with one hand on the knob. “You made me a very proud man tonight. I’m glad you’re my wife.”

  Fourteen

  Jessie went to sleep with a smile on her face. And she awoke floating on light, fluffy clouds.

  For someone to have pride in her and show it came as a surprise. It’d been so long since anyone appreciated her, she’d forgotten the last time.

  I’m glad you’re my wife, Duel had said.

  She hugged herself. Her new husband continually caught her off guard. At the dance he’d looked at her with something more than admiration. His special treatment made her feel like a princess. And his jealousy over Hampton Pierson’s attention shocked but pleased her. Her smile grew, and a giggle erupted.

  Marley Rose gave her a strange look.

  “Your papa likes me.”

  “Pa pa.”

  Grabbing the girl’s hands, she swung her around in a circle. Gleeful laughter filled the little house.

  “Maybe not as much as Annie. It’s not love, but he feels something.” Her heart near to bursting, she lifted Marley and kissed her cheeks. Then she brushed aside the black curls and whispered in the child’s ear, “I like your papa too.”

  Marley clapped her little hands excitedly as if approving the shared secret. Her laughter charged the air when Duel opened the door.

  “Appears my two girls are happy today. Could hear you clear to the barn.”

  “Paaaa.” Marley reached for her hero.

  “Hey, Two Bit, what’s got you in such a good mood?” He kissed her rosy cheek before admonishing, “I told you it’s not Papa. I’m Duel.”

  The way the gentle giant of a man held the fragile girl caused Jessie’s stomach to flip-flop. He was strong, tough when he had to be, yet good and kind—to children and dogs. And her. Jeremiah had lacked all those qualities.

  I’ll teach you, woman, to run away from me. The only question you’ll ask from now on when I say jump is how high. Because I own you. Jeremiah had spat those words in her face after bringing her back the first time she’d tried to escape.

  I hate you! You’ll never break me, never. She’d vowed that even when Jeremiah came at her with the glowing metal rod.

  Anger mottled Jeremiah’s face when it came within an inch of hers. I’ll show you what you get for fighting me.

  The smell had been worse than the pain, for once the stench of burning flesh entered a body’s nostrils, nothing could erase it. The odor lodged in her brain. Now, the slightest malodorous scent sent her reeling back to that fateful day.

  Despite her vow that he’d not break her spirit, she’d had to reach deep inside afterward for the will to continue her fight.

  She shook her head to get rid of Jeremiah’s memory. It took several minutes to slow her heartbeat.

  “Maaaaa.” Marley pointed to Jessie.

  Saints be praised the girl couldn’t talk, she thought, or she’d be telling Duel their secret.

  “Yes, darlin’. That’s your mama. I suppose you can call Jess anything your little heart desires.”

  When would he realize Marley had him wrapped around her finger? And how come it was all right for the girl to call her Mama and not him Papa? Not that she minded. She couldn’t love Marley more if she was her own.

  Smells of baking biscuits drifted from the kitchen. “Oh dear!”

  Duel and Marley followed on her heels.

  “Sure does smell good, Jess. Reckon I could eat a horse, or one nanny goat. How about you, Two Bit?” Duel sat her in a chair and reached for a pair of coffee cups.

&
nbsp; No one could understand Marley’s jabber, but that didn’t stop her from giving them an earful. Jessie supposed she was sharing her thoughts on the subject.

  The sourdough biscuits had baked a nice golden brown, thank goodness. She transferred them to a plate and set them on the table.

  “Jess?”

  Duel touched her arm lightly. He looked like he’d swallowed a mouthful of cod-liver oil when he reached into his pocket and fished something out. She waited expectantly.

  “Pop slipped this in my hand last night. It belonged to my mother, and I want you to have it.” A glitter of gold shone from the ring he held out.

  “Your mother’s?” Sudden emotion choked her airway. The mist in her eyes wasn’t from the smoke that came back down the flue and into the room. “I don’t…are you sure?”

  “Pop’s idea. And it wasn’t anything that Annie ever wore. Tom Parker bought her wedding ring. Said this little gold band wasn’t good enough for his daughter.”

  Jessie held out her hand and let him slip it on her third finger. “It’s absolutely beautiful! A perfect fit.”

  She held up her hand, admiring it from every angle.

  “Now, when we meet up with Hampton Pierson again, he’ll have no question that you’re taken.”

  Did she still detect a note of jealousy in his voice? A thrill stole into her heart. To give her such a precious gift had to mean he cared for her.

  “I’ll treasure it always.” She blinked hard. “No one has ever been this good to me.”

  If he looked like he’d swallowed cod-liver oil before, now he had the appearance of its effects—shifting on first one foot, then the other. She supposed her making a to-do over the ring embarrassed him.

  “Sit down and eat those biscuits while they’re hot. Put some food in your belly before you start work.”

  While he poured sorghum over the buttered delicacies, she gazed at the ring. Maybe her fuss hadn’t flustered him, maybe it had been the duty and honor part that had done it. After all, his pop had been the one who told him to give it to her. He hadn’t said it was his idea. Maybe he simply felt obligated. It would be better if she didn’t attach too much meaning to the gesture.

  Jessie gazed at her finger one more time.

  *

  In the next few days, life settled into a routine of sorts. She helped Duel and Walt plant the sorghum, and spring rains gave the crop a nice start. True to his word, Duel spent more time with Marley Rose. And her. But when bedtime came, he headed for the barn.

  Toward the end of the week, Vicky and the twins came to visit, bringing news that Luke had gone on his way. Jessie breathed much easier.

  “Said he had an idea about Jessie Foltry’s whereabouts.”

  “What kind of idea? Did he say?” Though caution colored Jessie’s question, it came from between stiff lips.

  “Muttered something about Cactus Springs and Pecos.” Vicky absently watched Becky and Betsy playing peekaboo with Marley. “Wonder what kind of woman would kill her husband in cold blood?”

  Hands of doom tightened around Jessie’s throat. She hoped her face hadn’t become as pasty white as it felt.

  You disgust me. You’re worthless, can’t even bear a man a child to carry on the Foltry name. Tonight I’m giving you to my friends. Maybe you’ll be of some use to them.

  Jeremiah’s threat filled her head, taking her back to that last evening, when she’d finished it once and for all.

  “One never knows what goes on between a husband and wife, Vicky. Could be that Foltry wasn’t the kind of man everyone thought.”

  “A spat don’t give a woman the right to take his life. Shoot, if that was the case, I’d have shot Roy a long time ago.”

  “I never had the chance to properly thank you for the party you gave for us.” Jessie changed the subject before she lost her composure. “Duel and I had a wonderful time.”

  Compliments were a surefire bet to change Vicky’s course. The woman glowed.

  “Gladys Stanton is having a quilting bee at her house next week and asked me to invite you. ’Course we do more gossipin’ than actual sewing—especially Charlotte Brown.”

  It didn’t sound like her cup of tea. Especially with the Brown woman in attendance. Jessie could only imagine the questions the nosy women would put to her.

  “Thank you, Vicky. I—”

  In true Vicky fashion, her sister-in-law didn’t wait for her to finish the sentence but babbled on. “Before I forget. The ladies are organizing a women’s suffrage meeting for Tuesday of next week at six o’clock in the church. I might have already told you. I’ve spread the word to so many, I can’t remember.”

  Jessie gave her a fleeting smile, not bothering to reply. She recognized a headwind when she saw one, and Vicky wasn’t slowing down for anything.

  “Can you believe it? Wyoming gave women the right to vote eleven years ago, and so far, no other state has followed their example. The Fifteenth Amendment even gives black men the vote, but not us women. Shameful, that’s what it is.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Jessie slipped in when Vicky paused to catch her breath. Oppression remained, despite the rapid advances of the law. What chance would she stand in a court of law that sanctioned a husband’s abusive treatment of his wife? Clearing herself of the murder charge seemed hopeless. A married woman had no rights—not even the right to her own body.

  The glint of gold on her finger kept her mind occupied while Vicky prattled on. When they found out who she was and what she’d done, who among Tranquility’s female ranks would stand with her? Would the esteemed Susan B. Anthony or Lucy Stone stand beside her? She doubted it.

  Duel stomped dirt off his feet outside before he opened the door. He gave the visitor a suspicious scowl.

  “Hope you’re not trying to rope my wife into anything, sis.”

  Now, as each time before, he filled the room with his presence. Jessie tried to still her quickening pulse. Sun-drenched and tanned, he made her heart race and her breath lodge in her chest. His unleashed power awed her in the way lightning streaking across a stormy sky did. Beautiful…and dangerous only in a heartbreaking sense.

  “Who, me?” Innocence flashed across Vicky’s pretty face.

  “You’re not fooling me. Remember, I know you.”

  “Oh, Duel, we’re just having harmless woman talk.” She rose and smoothed her flowered calico dress. “I do declare, look at the time. I’ve got to get home and fix supper.”

  “No need to rush off on my account.” Safe behind Vicky’s back, Duel winked at her. Dangerous and filled with devilment.

  “I would dearly love to stay and chat, but duty calls. Come, girls, your father’ll think we deserted him.”

  Betsy put down Marley’s rag doll. “We go, Mama? See George an’ Henwy?”

  “Tell your cousin good-bye.” The woman reached for each girl’s hand.

  “We play tomannow,” Becky explained seriously.

  Vicky turned to Jessie. “Remember, Tuesday of next week, six o’clock at the church.”

  Duel waited until the door closed after his sibling. “What the hell was that about?”

  “Women’s suffrage meeting.” She watched him roll his eyes.

  “You going?”

  “No. That’s a volatile subject and bound to draw attention. I should try to keep to myself. Be as unobtrusive as possible.”

  How she’d accomplish that he didn’t know. Afternoon sunlight through the windowpane caught her hair, transforming the auburn strands into a golden, fiery halo. Unobtrusive? He didn’t think anyone would dare use that word to describe his Jess. If so, they needed spectacles.

  “Did you need my help with something?”

  “Came in to see what that sister of mine had cooked up now. Afraid I learned a long time ago not to trust her too far.”

  “Vicky brought news that Luke left town.”

  “That shouldn’t put that wrinkle on your forehead. Seems you’d be glad to hear the news.”

  “He�
�s blazing a trail for Cactus Springs and Pecos. In backtracking, he’s sure to stumble across my trail.”

  “Damnation!”

  *

  Heavy, pounding rain drove Duel into the house, much to Jessie’s delight. A slow, lazy fire in the hearth, rumbling thunder, the clatter on the tin roof, and the soft click of knitting needles gave her a sense of tranquil belonging. The three of them were a family.

  Marley Rose teetered unsteadily as she released her hold on Jessie’s skirt and attempted to walk unaided to Duel, who sat staring into the low flames in the fireplace. No doubt he was lost in days past when he sat with Annie on such a day as this. Perhaps they’d planned their lives, dreamed of children on a rainy afternoon like this.

  She yearned to smooth back the lock of hair that had fallen forward, and banish the wrinkle in his brow. And tell him her only desire lay in sharing a small corner of his life. She’d never ask for more than that.

  The happy little girl had almost reached him when she suddenly bobbled and fell. Her head struck the floor.

  As she began to whimper, Duel lifted her into his lap. “There, Two Bit, it’s all right.” He kissed the red lump on her forehead tenderly. “I’ve got you.”

  She sniffled loudly and smiled away the hurt. “Pa pa.”

  “No, baby, I’m Duel, not your papa.”

  “Pa pa.” Tiny fingers patted him as she snuggled into his chest.

  Jessie’s heart swelled watching the two of them, and she lost count of the stitches. The knitted cap for Marley would end up looking like a sock if she didn’t keep her mind on her knitting.

  “Never mind, I love you anyway, darlin’.” His breath stirred the hair on top of the dark little head. “Someday you’ll understand why I can’t be your papa.”

  “She doesn’t care about the whys and why-nots, Duel.” Jessie spoke low, glancing up from her task. “You fill a need in her life, and she loves you for that.”

  “It wouldn’t be right to let her believe a lie.”

  “You can straighten her out when she gets old enough to understand. I can’t see what harm can come from giving in.” She couldn’t help pointing out, “Besides, you don’t seem to be making any headway in changing her mind.”

  Just then a knock sounded on the door. With the rainfall and thus no work, Walt hadn’t dropped by. She didn’t think Vicky would get out in the deluge unless something had happened. Fear rose from the pit of her stomach. Perhaps this was the moment they’d been dreading. Her day of reckoning. Duel’s questioning scowl didn’t help as he sat Marley in Jessie’s lap and moved to open it.