Knight on the Texas Plains

by Linda Broday

  The lace handkerchief in her palm resembled a limp wad of tissue paper by the time she forced the memory into submission.

  Remorse swept through her veins for what Jeremiah had forced her to do. No matter what, she couldn’t go back.

  Seated beside her on the wooden bench, Duel’s thigh rested easily against hers. Through the layers of petticoats and skirt, she could feel his warmth and firm muscle. Her loving gaze moved to his chiseled profile. Strong and steadfast.

  Lord help her, even if it were within her power to rewrite the past, she wouldn’t. For if the events hadn’t played out the way they had, she’d never have known how real love could be.

  An angry glare marked Duel’s face. His eyes had narrowed to jagged shards of glass, and a tic in his jaw made the only movement among the rigid peaks and valleys of his features.

  Jessie followed the path of his fury.

  Hampton Pierson. She should’ve guessed.

  The man relaxed in a pew ahead and a little to the right. Both men eagle-eyed each other with a menacing glower. She should have known this would happen. And over a stupid bonnet.

  Reverend Dinsmore closed his sermon with the Lord’s Prayer, then dismissed the congregation.

  Somehow, she had to steer Duel past Hampton without his creating a scene. The task seemed unlikely. Dare she enlist her sister-in-law’s help?

  “Vicky, I think Hampton Pierson’s trying to get your attention.”

  “Wonder what he wants?” Vicky set sail for the hapless victim. Jessie collected herself.

  The woman was still talking a blue streak when they reached the door and she dared to look back.

  “Nice sermon, Reverend.” Duel extended his hand.

  “Heard about the barn, son. The good Lord giveth, and He taketh away.”

  “For a fact. The main thing is the animals were spared.”

  She barely heard the conversation. Hampton had escaped and was almost upon them. Now wasn’t the time to exchange pleasantries. Oh no, too late.

  “Mrs. McClain, I wanted to say what a breath of fresh air you bring to our paltry little town.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Pierson. If you’ll excuse me, I need to have a word with Mrs. Brown over there.”

  Duel captured her arm, and she didn’t need to see his face to know a black storm brewed. They progressed down the steps and had gone not more than a few feet when Hampton brushed past.

  Suddenly, Jessie had to stifle laughter. White chalk covered the seat of the lothario’s black breeches.

  “Hey, Pierson,” Duel drawled after him. “Got something on your behind. Think you’d better go change before you try to sweet talk a man’s lady.”

  Twenty-one

  The pink dawn had faded into light blue when wagon after wagon loaded with people and supplies poured onto the farm Monday morning.

  “What’s going on, Duel?” Jessie peered over his shoulder out the window.

  “Reckon it’s a barn raising.” He hurried out to meet the early arrivals.

  She barely had time to speculate on their good fortune before she was hurrying to the door. Vicky burst in, her arms overflowing. Behind her trailed George, Henry, and the twins, each carrying more.

  “Mornin’, Jessie. Brought a ham from the smokehouse and turnips and squash from the root cellar.”

  “My goodness. You’ve certainly brought enough.”

  Vicky stared as though Jessie’d sprouted horns. “There will be lots of hungry men to feed.”

  “Mama, can we go play now? Can we, huh?” George asked.

  Henry’s eyes sparkled. “Can we, Mama?”

  “In a minute, boys. I’m talking to your aunt Jessie. Don’t interrupt.” Since both hands were full, the woman blew a sprig of hair from her face.

  “Maybe you need to sit down for a minute, Vicky. You must have been up since midnight.”

  “I don’t have time for that. We have to get organized.”

  Oh dear. That sounded ominous when her sister-in-law said it. She braced for a trying day, though her heart swelled with gratitude. The thoughtful efforts of the townsfolk touched her. Jeremiah would never have allowed anyone on his ranch. But due to the kindness of neighbors she barely knew, they would now recover from the storm.

  Charlotte Brown and Gladys Stanton made it to the door. They, too, had arms laden with food, which they unloaded in the kitchen at Vicky’s capable direction.

  “Boys, I want you to stay out of the men’s way out there.” Vicky gave a stern warning. Apparently, she’d had to deal with boys being boys in times past. George and Henry were just little men waiting to grow up.

  “Cain’t we even watch?” George’s disappointment reflected in both boys’ faces.

  Sadness whispered in the back of Jessie’s mind. If Duel’s son had lived, he’d no doubt be trailing in his father’s footsteps. From what she could figure, he’d be almost a year older than Betsy and Becky, who were adorable three-year-olds.

  Guilt trampled down her happiness. Having a son was special to a man. Duel would never have that—not with her. Would he hate her when she told him?

  “No. And watch out for your sisters,” Vicky added.

  “Aw shoot, do we hafta?” Henry kicked the floor with the toe of his shoe.

  “Jessie, how about Marley going out with the children? They’ll keep an eye on her.”

  “I’m sure Marley’d love it.” Misgivings made her wish she’d said no. Considering the little darling’s penchant for putting things in her mouth, she needed close supervision.

  Against her better judgment, she watched helplessly. Flanked by the twins, and shepherded by George and Henry, Marley toddled happily. Jessie prayed she worried for nothing.

  “She’ll be fine, Jessie.” Her sister-in-law’s assertion did little to reassure her. “Now, we have work to do. Those men’ll build up a hearty appetite before you know it.”

  In no time at all, Jessie had forgotten her worry. Pots lined the top of the wood-burning stove, and more were moved to a fire they’d built outdoors. Many of the women she’d never met, since they came from distant farms. She couldn’t keep her gaze from straying to Jane Maxfield, whose swollen stomach looked ready to burst.

  Envy swept over her as she stirred cake batter. The way Jane’s hands rested protectively on her belly, the glow on the woman’s face, all made Jessie wish for the impossible. She poured the thick mixture into pans and sighed. The joy of impending motherhood she could only imagine.

  You don’t deserve a child. I’ll teach you to bite the hand that feeds you. Then Jeremiah had kicked her stomach until the newly begun life inside spilled out onto the floor—her punishment for another escape attempt.

  Jessie struggled to push the horrible memory back into the locked box where she kept it. Even in death, the man strove to torment her. Sliding the cake into the oven, she moved to a bowl of soft, bulging dough and took pleasure in punching her fist into it. Then she glanced anxiously out the window and relaxed only after she located Marley Rose.

  When the noon hour arrived, they’d fixed enough food to feed an army. Duel set up makeshift tables under the ash and chokecherry trees, while the ladies filled them with mouthwatering dishes, cakes, pies, and bread.

  “There you are, sweetheart.” Jessie lifted Marley, her cheerfulness fading at the ring of dirt around the child’s mouth. She ran her finger lightly over the small teeth and found grit. “You’ve been eating dirt. Shame, shame.”

  “Mama?” Marley opened her hand, proudly showing a crushed flower. “Pwetty.”

  Duel met them at the well. “Figured she’d need her face washed.”

  “Our daughter’s been eating dirt, Duel.”

  “It’s not the end of the world, Jess. It won’t kill her or anything.” He pushed back a strand of hair that had come loose from the twisted knot at the nape of her neck and kissed her.

  His touch released a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. He made her feel every inch a woman. From across a room or from the far side o
f a field of sorghum, she was conscious of his every breath. She knew no man except Duel who’d sleep beside his wife without forcing his attentions on her. That fact alone made her love him more.

  Suddenly Duel stiffened. Jessie followed his gaze to find Hampton Pierson boldly watching. The man stood apart from the others who’d gathered beneath the trees to eat.

  “I didn’t know he came.” Unease swept along her spine.

  “Wish he’d stayed away, but the man’s determined to be a thorn in my side.”

  Jessie brushed his arm with a light caress. “Don’t let him goad you into doing anything foolish. Not over me.”

  When he switched his aggravated regard to her, she added quietly, “It’s you I want, Duel McClain.”

  *

  Through the open kitchen window, Jessie could hear the children calling, “Red rover, red rover, let Henwy come over.”

  Elbow-deep in sudsy dishwater, she smiled. It wouldn’t be long before Marley Rose would join in. The girl had turned into a regular chatterbox, and signs indicated it would only get worse.

  “Wasn’t that awful about Evelyn Butler dying an’ leavin’ those little children?” Charlotte Brown asked during a moment of quiet.

  The dish towel in Vicky’s hand whipped the air as she vigorously dried the rinsed dishes. “I’ll say. Wonder what’ll happen to those kids now? You suppose they’ll put ’em in an orphanage?”

  Jessie pulled her attention from the window. “I don’t believe I heard about this. Who was Evelyn Butler?”

  “She lived about two miles out of town. Died of the fever.” Jane’s brow wrinkled in concentration. “I believe her husband got killed in a cattle stampede two years ago. Abel Butler worked off and on for John Fleming.”

  “Abel stayed home long enough to get Evelyn in the family way, then he’d hit the trail again,” Charlotte said.

  Vicky gave the group of women her best disapproving scowl. “Poor thing.”

  “How many children did she leave?” Jessie could imagine the little things’ fear, the horrible feeling of abandonment.

  “Three. Two boys and a girl,” Charlotte supplied. “I’d take them in if I weren’t so old. As it is, I just can’t.” The woman shrugged her shoulders.

  Jane chewed her bottom lip. “Charlie and I might take one of them, but all three would be a huge burden on us.”

  “Seems a shame to split up a family. Without a mother or father, they don’t have anyone but each other,” Vicky said.

  Jessie’s heart was breaking. “Do they have other kin?”

  “Disease, Indians, and accidents pretty much wiped them out.” Gladys Stanton joined the conversation at last. “I heard tell of a grandmother over in the next county, but folks say she’s in poor health and up in years.”

  “What are the children’s ages?” Jessie heard herself asking.

  Vicky eyed her with curiosity. “Are you thinking of adding them to yours and Duel’s brood?”

  She clamped a lid on her thoughts, yet she heard herself reply, “Could be. I’d hate to see them doled out like pieces of fruit to this one and that. Or worse, to live out their childhood in the cold confines of an awful orphanage.”

  “The boys are two and four. The girl is three.” Charlotte gave her a strange look as well.

  Hope spread. Duel could have his sons. She would have another daughter, and playmates for Marley Rose. Perhaps the revelation she must share with her beloved would lose its sting if she could replace it with other children. Perhaps?

  *

  Later, she sat with the women in the coolness of the chokecherry trees. Laughing children played their games, almost drowning out the sawing and hammering in the background.

  “Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies.” Small voices blended with the melee. The younger children, Marley included, held hands and formed a circle while the older ones enjoyed Blind Man’s Buff and Ante Over.

  Jessie’s attention wandered to the newly raised barn that neared completion. Squinting against the bright sunlight, she searched for the familiar form that helped paint her world pinkish-purple. Through narrowed lids she spotted him on the roof, and her calm pulse became a fast-moving stream. As she watched, he took a sheet of tin from a man on a ladder, laid it over the beams, and nailed it down. Duel’s tremendous strength locked the tin in place with a mere two strokes of the hammer.

  The power of the man didn’t begin and end with the physical. His patient restraint during the nighttime hours bespoke strong character from deep inside. And honor few men could equal.

  The front door slammed, and Vicky marched from the house. “Jessie, Henry knocked over the lamp in the sitting room and broke the globe. I’ll go to Dexter’s tomorrow and get you another.”

  “No rush. I’m sure he didn’t intend to do it.” She had discovered a few things about little boys since becoming part of the McClain clan. “Do I need to sweep up the glass?”

  Vicky shook her head. “That’s part of his punishment. I told him he couldn’t come back out until he cleaned it up.”

  “No harm done.” She couldn’t hold Henry at fault for his boyish exuberance.

  When Jessie looked for Marley again, the girl had disappeared from the laughing band of children. Jumping to her feet, she scanned the area. Suddenly she spied her quarry, and the wild stampede inside slowed down to an organized trot. Marley’s little legs hurried to catch her “Boobie,” who stood cautiously apart from the loud goings-on.

  Jessie sprinted for the child. By the time she came close, Marley had chased the dog farther into the trees until they were completely hidden from view.

  “Marley Rose, come here this instant.” She circled a thicket, getting her skirt entangled in a bramble bush. “Marley Rose, come to Mama.”

  “You lose your girl?”

  The voice startled Jessie. Whirling, she faced none other than Hampton Pierson. Alone, separated from help, her panic rose. Though the dapper man had never given her cause for alarm, a leer twisted his usually pleasing features and turned her blood to ice water.

  “My daughter wandered off.” From years of practice, she adopted an unruffled demeanor, offering a fleeting smile. “What are you doing out here, Mr. Pierson?”

  “I followed you. Been trying to find a way to get you alone all day, my dearest.” The man stepped closer. His loud, rapid breathing filled the air between them.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Pierson, but I really cannot allow you to use such an endearment.” She prayed her low but stern rebuke would dissuade him. “I’m a happily married woman. This isn’t proper.”

  “Your comeliness has smitten me. I’m unable to think of anything but my darling Jessie.” Desire set Hampton’s eyes ablaze.

  She tried to portray a calm she didn’t feel. “I could use your help in finding Marley Rose. I’m worried she’ll get hurt.” Truth be known, that scared her worse than Hampton. She jerked her skirt free of the thorny branches and edged toward a clear path.

  “No hurry.” He blocked her escape with his body. “We’ll find her later. First, I’d like to kiss your ruby lips.”

  Jessie’s hand stung when it connected with his cheek. Her fear forgotten, she was plain mad now.

  “Oh, I love a woman with spirit.” Her resistance merely inflamed him. Hampton pulled her against his chest.

  “Then you’ll love this, you womanizing jackass!” Before she could stop it, her knee rose with force into his crotch. And when he doubled over in pain, she hit him with her fist.

  At that moment, Yellow Dog bounded from the green growth, snarling, attacking the man’s leg. Marley Rose toddled behind, calling, “Boobie. Mine Boobie.”

  Jessie scooped up the wayward child and started for the house.

  “Call him off. For God’s sake, please.” Hampton had lost all his bluster. The man kicked and fought to release the dog’s hold on his limb. Still, Yellow Dog clung tenaciously.

  “You promise you won’t force your attentions on me in the future?” Despite the shak
ing that had reduced her knees to rice pudding, she basked in a satisfied glow.

  “I promise, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye,” the wild-eyed man ranted, his face awash with pain. “Now, please. I beg of you.”

  “Down, Yellow Dog. Come.” She snapped her fingers and whistled. The dog immediately trotted to her side and stared up at her, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Jessie could have sworn she detected a lopsided grin on the animal’s face. Not that a retriever could do that. Still, he looked mighty pleased with his work.

  More swishing of limbs alerted Jessie to other danger. She clutched Marley to her bosom. Only this time it was Duel who came forth.

  “Papa.” Marley Rose tried to jump from her arms.

  “You all right, Jess?” Grim lines marred his chiseled features. He shifted his gaze from the man on the ground to her.

  “I’m fine.” She wondered how long he’d been there and how much of the scene he’d witnessed. “Mr. Pierson, on the other hand, has learned a valuable lesson.”

  “Sorry you don’t need my help. It would be pure pleasure.” Duel put a gentle hand on her elbow. “Seems you took care of the suck-egg mule all by yourself.”

  His admiring scrutiny almost did her in.

  “I don’t think Mr. Pierson will present any more problems.” She whistled softly. “Come, Yellow Dog, let’s go home.”

  Duel turned for one last parting shot. “Consider yourself lucky, Pierson, that my wife dealt with you before I did. Now get off my land and don’t ever set foot near my wife again.”

  Twenty-two

  “Git your caboose in here, son. You look worse’n a treed polecat.” Bart Daniels waved Luke into the inner sanctum of his office.

  “Shoot! I feel worse than that, Bart.” Luke swept an inch of dust off the only available chair and dropped onto it. “Don’t you ever do any cleaning?”

  “Folks o’ El Paso don’t pay me to traipse around here in one of those frilly white pinnyfores carryin’ a mop bucket.” The sheriff’s mustache bristled like porcupine quills.

  Luke grinned at the image. “Hold on to your galluses, old man. Too early in the day to get riled up. Besides, you don’t have the figure for a pinafore.”