“Did they take you on robberies?”
“A few. I was usually the lookout and held the horses out front. Blessedly, no one was killed when I was along.”
Griffin could feel his anger rising at the people in town. They called her whore, but did they know what she’d done to keep her nephew safe? The sacrifice she’d made? Did they have any idea how terrified she must have been, especially at first?
Her voice trembling, she finally confessed, “He took me only twice, Griffin. I swear.”
He pulled her into his arms and held onto her fiercely. “Do you think I care about that?” he asked in a voice thick with emotion. “I love you, Jessi Rose, more than anything in this world, and nothing will ever ever change that.” He pulled back and gazed down into her teary eyes. “Do you understand that?”
She couldn’t speak.
“There is nothing that’ll make me stop. Nothing.”
For a few long moments they held onto each other while Jessi cried out a decade of hurt and fear. He kissed her tears and mentally pledged to spend the rest of his life making sure no one ever hurt her again.
After a while he said, “Let’s sit a minute.”
He took a seat in the open field and eased her down onto his lap. He kissed the top of her soft dark hair. “You okay?”
Jessi savored the solid feel of him surrounding her and she thanked the heavens for sending her such a wonderful and loving man. Wiping at her eyes, she gladly accepted the clean handkerchief he offered and she blew her nose. “Gillie’s the only other person I’ve told this story to. She thinks another reason my father might’ve offered me up was because I look so much like my mother.” She sniffed. “When I came back here from New York to help my father raise Joth after Mildred’s death, he let me know how he felt. He picked me up at the train, took one look at me, and his exact words were, ‘You look just like that whore of a mother of yours. Maybe calling you back wasn’t such a good idea.’ I’ll never forget it.”
Griff held her tight. “Darlin’, you can’t be faulted for having your mother’s face.”
“I know, but he found great fault with it.”
Griffin wanted to dig up her father too. “So what did he have to say when you came back after leaving Winston?”
“Nothing, but I found out from Gillie and Auntie that he’d told the folks in town that I’d gone with Winston willingly. He made no mention of having struck the deal on Joth’s behalf.”
His jaw tightened once again with emotion. “So that’s where it all began. Why didn’t he tell the truth?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he was ashamed of what he’d done. Maybe he thought I’d never come back, or maybe he enjoyed the idea of my being labeled a whore because I looked so much like Mama. I’ll never know the truth.”
Jessi looked up at him and her voice and eyes were serious. “So, you still want to marry me?”
He leaned down and touched his lips to hers. “Only if it’s until death do us part…”
A happy and tearful Jessi hugged him tight and relished the hug he gave her in return. She’d finally found the light and no longer needed to be afraid.
Later, Preacher rode up and Jessi and the others went to the porch to welcome him back.
Preacher fished into this shirt pocket and withdrew a folded square of paper, then handed it to Griffin. “Thought you’d want to see this.”
Griffin scanned the paper a moment and then grinned. “I most certainly do.”
Griffin handed it over to Jessi. Neil and his brother peered over Jessi’s shoulder to see what she held and they smiled too. It was a more recent sketch of the wanted woman Eula Grimes, and it left no doubt that Eula and Minerva were the same person.
“She has a nine-hundred-dollar bounty on her?” Jessi asked with amazement.
Preacher nodded. “That’s what it says. It seems she has a habit of marrying old men and then absconding with their funds on the wedding night. She’s done it at least three times and the families involved want her brought back to stand trial.”
Jessi handed the bulletin back to Griffin. As he pocketed it, he asked, “Do you think Minerva would turn on Darcy to keep from going to prison?”
“Faster than she can say her real name, I’ll bet,” Jessi cracked.
“Jessita’s probably right,” Two Shafts replied. “A woman like that has few loyalties.”
“Then let’s wait a few days before we confront her; we don’t want to spook her, but maybe after I win the election next week, we’ll sit her down and have a nice long chat.”
That night as Griffin and Jessi patrolled the outer boundaries of the Clayton land, they were supposed to be on the lookout for suspicious activity, but their thoughts were focused on each other instead.
When they reached the river, Jessi reined Snake Eyes to a halt and Griffin stopped his gelding right beside her. She dismounted and let the horse drink a moment. “The last few days have been something, huh?”
Griffin dismounted as well. “No kidding.”
Jessi looked out over the ribbon of black water and the night-shrouded range beyond. “They’ve been good for us, though. Don’t you think?” She looked back to study him.
He nodded. “Yes. It took a lot of strength and courage to tell me the story.”
She was glad she had. She’d been so afraid to confess the truth to him, so afraid it would alter his love for her. “Some men wouldn’t be as understanding.”
“Some men are fools. You didn’t have a choice.”
Her voice was as quiet as the night. “No.”
It still tore Griffin up inside, knowing that she’d gone through the ordeal alone and had been stoically and silently carrying the experience around all these years. What strength she had, and now he knew what had made her so rawhide tough: life.
“Are you ready to ride on?” he asked.
It was a question that covered many things. She told the truth. “Yes.”
Doyle had appointed himself Griffin’s campaign manager and had tacked up broadsides all over town. It didn’t matter that Percy and his men tore them all down, the notices were up long enough for everyone to know that Griffin Blake was running for sheriff. The declaration caused quite a stir. Folks all over the area talked about the coming election and many a bet was laid on the outcome. Some were predicting there would be a record-breaking number of people going to the polls, while others predicted no one would vote at all out of fear of retaliation from Reed Darcy. In a blatant attempt to buy votes, Reed was handing out crisp, new one-dollar bills. He even gave Jessi one, saying she and Griffin would probably need it to buy food once the election was held and Griffin went down to defeat. When Jessi got home, she looked at the new bill and thought there was something odd about the dollar’s face, but it had been so long since she’d held a freshly printed bill, she shrugged it off.
Election day, Jessi and the Clayton contingent accompanied Griffin into town. In the past, the polls were located inside the barbershop, but today, because there were so many men wanting to cast their vote, the venue had been changed to Auntie’s where there was more room.
Jessi saw folks in town she hadn’t seen in years and others she’d never seen before. Percy and his minions had taken up position outside the saloon and appeared to be there for the sole purpose of intimidation. He gave Jessi and the others a surly stare as they passed, but said nothing.
Inside, a line of men snaked up the steps to the room where they’d put the voting station. A few people were seated at the tables conversing quietly, while others were up walking around and helping themselves to the free eats and lemonade. The subdued atmosphere befitted the occasion.
As Jessi, Griffin, and the Twins entered, they saw Doyle seated at a table and headed his way. A few men and women inside offered Jessi a tight nod, which she returned in kind. No one made any overt displays of welcome or acknowledgment and it soon became apparent why. Reed Darcy and his family were ensconced at a table in the center of room as if Reed wanted ever
yone to know he was there as they waited in line to vote.
He glared at her as she passed, but she ignored him. Roscoe sat at the table looking surly and displeased. Jessi wondered if Reed had forced him to be here this morning because she couldn’t imagine Roscoe wanting to be here on his own. If Reed had indeed forced his son to be at his side, he’d had less control in other areas. Roscoe was obviously drunk, and he met Jessi’s eyes with a bitter grin and toasted her with the drink in his hand.
The poll closed at seven that evening. Barbershop owner Wilson Cornell and Abe Thomas were locked in the voting room, tallying votes. Two Shafts had gone up to represent Griffin, and Minerva to represent Reed’s side.
Auntie’s was packed by now. People had been filtering in all afternoon to await the final results. Reed was still holding court in the center of the place, but Roscoe had left the premises hours ago.
The room quieted as Wilson and the others appeared on the stairs. Jessi gave Griffin a big smile, then turned her attention back to the stairs. When Wilson Cornell announced the results, cheers erupted and hats and bonnets filled the air. Griffin had won by a landslide.
Jessi leaned over and gave him a huge kiss. “Congratulations, darling!”
“Thanks,” he said grinning.
It was the only moment they got to share, because the newly elected sheriff was immediately mobbed by well wishers wanting to shake his hand.
Reed was livid. If looks could’ve killed, Griffin would’ve been dead on the floor. Reed had been rebuked publicly and resoundingly. Fueled by the repossession of their lives and their properties, the citizens had chosen light over darkness, and Reed knew he was out on his ass! As the celebration swirled around him and someone began banging out a tune on the piano, he met Jessi’s eyes malevolently. She didn’t blink or look away. She held his gaze with the same courage she always had, and it felt wonderful. He swung his glare from her to the celebration, gave it one last look, then forcefully pushed his way to the door. An angry Minerva followed in his wake.
The happy Clayton clan didn’t make it home until very late that night. Griffin carried the sleeping Joth inside and helped Jessi put him to bed.
In the hallway Griffin stood with his arms linked around Jessi’s waist and feasted his eyes on the woman he loved. “You know something?” he asked in a slightly slurred voice.
“What?” she asked, looking up at him contentedly.
“I’m the new sheriff.”
Her smile peeked out. “Yes, you are.”
“I also had a little too much to drink.”
She chuckled. “I think so, too, but you deserved to celebrate.”
“How many kisses did I give you on the way home?”
“Last count, hundreds.”
“Wish I could give you more, but I have to go to sleep now.”
“That sounds like a very good idea.”
He gave her a sweet kiss on her forehead. “Night, Jessi Rose.”
“Good night, Sheriff.”
Jessi waited to make certain he made it to the bed, then softly closed his door. She walked to her own room with a smile on her face.
Over the next few days, Griffin, the Twins, and the Preacher spent most of their time in town fixing up the sheriff’s office and opening the mail that had been piling up since Casper Hatcher’s departure. Gillie took time away from the sewing of Jessi’s wedding dress to come over and measure the office for new window curtains. Abe Thomas and the men from the church made Griffin a new Vale Sheriff sign, and painted the place inside and out. Folks donated furniture, lamps, and cots and bedding for the lock-up when word got out that Darcy had stripped the place clean after losing the election.
“I’m impressed,” Jessi said, as she looked up at the new sign and the fresh whitewash on the building’s exterior. “And they did this all on their own?”.
“Never asked for a thing.”
The love shone in her eyes as she said, “The town has really taken to you, Griffin.”
And it had. People seemed friendlier and more at ease everywhere Jessi went. There were still strained feelings between Jessi and a lot of folks, but she was more than willing to meet them halfway, and that too could be attributed to Griffin.
“Lots of ladies have been dropping by too,” he told her.
“So Gillie’s been saying. Should I come and remind them where you park your boots at night? I can and I will you know.” She raised one eyebrow.
Griff smiled at the spark in her eye.
“No, for now, they’re just coming in and introducing themselves. If any get out of line, you’ll be first person I’ll call on.”
“Good. Now kiss me, and I’ll let you get back to work.”
So he did.
Three days later, Griffin was wired a warrant for Minerva’s arrest from the sheriff in Austin. At the dinner table that evening, Jessi and the men decided they’d go after her first, then Percy. They needed all the information she could give them on Reed’s shady business dealings, and they needed Percy to confess Darcy’s role in the murder of Jessi’s father. With Minerva and Percy out of the picture, Darcy would have no one at his back, and hopefully by then it would all be over.
It was now the first week of June and it was Griffin’s two-week anniversary as the new Vale lawman. He wore the star left by Casper Hatcher, and the shield had been buffed and polished before being presented to Griffin by Wilson Cornell on behalf of the town and the newly reformed town council.
The week also held two other anniversaries: Jessi’s birth and her mother’s death.
Jessi usually did not celebrate her birthday because of the bittersweet memories the day evoked. Griffin, having been told this by Gillie and Auntie, hoped to change her thinking about celebrating it.
Doyle’s nephew was in town for a three-day visit, and since he and Joth had known each other for years, Doyle invited Joth to the house so the two boys could have some fun. Preacher had been spending most nights in the sheriff’s office and the Twins at Auntie’s, so Griffin had a clear deck upon which to work.
Jessi got up the morning of her birthday, watched Joth ride off with Doyle and then as always joined Griffin on the roof.
“Good morning,” he called, as she walked over to join him.
She leaned down and gave him a kiss. “Good morning to you too.”
She took the offered cup of coffee and settled in beside him.
Sitting content and silent, they watched the sun rise.
Jessi had reclaimed the breakfast duties since Neil and his brother had taken to waking up in the soft new beds of Auntie’s girls instead of their bedrolls behind Jessi’s house, and although she didn’t mind the duties, Neil had a way with omelets that she’d never be able to match.
But she and Griffin ate her attempt and it was surprisingly good. At the conclusion of the meal, Griffin grabbed his hat to head to town.
Jessi walked with him out onto the porch. He looked down at her and then laced his hands around her waist. Without a word, he dragged her closer and kissed her until her knees melted into her boots. When he finally turned her loose, her eyes were closed and the sweet warm echoes of his kiss played over her insides like spring sunshine.
“That’s going to have to hold you until I get back from town,” he said, smiling softly. “Oh, and I’ll be bringing you something, too.”
“More kisses, I hope. You know, we’ll have the house all to ourselves this evening.”
“Definitely more kisses, but something else, too.”
“What?”
“Your birthday present.”
Jessi backed out of his arms. “I—I don’t celebrate my birthday.”
“I know,” he said softly. “And I know why.”
Jessi held his eyes. “Having your mother die the day after your thirteenth birthday is not something you easily forget. I haven’t celebrated it since because it always reminds me of her.”
“I understand.”
He walked over and took her back into
his arms. She placed her cheek against his chest and they held each other tight as he whispered, “But you are very very precious to me, and the day of your birth is something I want to celebrate, if only a little. Who would’ve changed my life if you hadn’t been born?”
She eased back a bit and looked up at him, “Probably some sweet young thing with a trunk full of money.”
“Possibly,” he answered, smiling down, “but I doubt it. I prefer my women seasoned, mature.”
“Oh, ‘old,’ in other words?”
“Very old.” He slowly traced the tempting lines of her bottom lip, then touched his lips to hers, murmuring, “Very very old…”
The kiss swept them away, and as time stood still for that tiny moment, they both felt love grow deeper.
“So do I have permission to celebrate the birth of the woman who’ll soon be my wife?” he asked, holding her close once more.
She nodded yes.
He gently raised her chin so he could see her eyes.
“Are you sure?” he asked softly. “You’ve been in the dark too long…let me be your light.”
Jessi’s eyes closed as sharp poignant emotions welled up inside. She loved this man more than life. “You are my light, Griffin, more than you’ll ever know.”
“And I want you to make me a promise.”
“What is it?”
“That you will not do a lick of work today. No fence mending, no stable mucking. Nothing. It’s your birthday, and as your maestro and your sheriff, I’m declaring this day a holiday.”
“Griffin—”
“Don’t whine. Just say, ‘Yes, Griffin.’”
Her voice was as sultry as her smiling eyes. “And if I do say yes, what do I get as a reward?”
“All you can handle, little girl. All you can handle.”
Chapter 13
After Griff rode off to town, Jessi moved about the silent house. Bantering with him had lifted her mood, but deep down inside she was still a bit melancholy. Although Griffin hadn’t made the time of his return specific, she knew it wouldn’t be until much later, and she contemplated how to occupy herself until then. She thought about going ahead and cleaning out the stables in the barn but she ignored the thought, mainly because she’d promised Griffin she would not do any chores in his absence. She located the newspaper she’d picked up in town and sat down with it, hoping it might hold her interest, but it didn’t. After glancing over a report on Democratic President Grover Cleveland’s recent appointment of Black Bostonian James M. Trotter as recorder of deeds, Jessi set the paper aside.
Taming of Jessi Rose Page 28
