House On Windridge

by Tracie Peterson

  Jessica laughed. “Don’t you go running off when whoever it is finally arrives. I don’t want to have to entertain on my own.”

  “Maybe we could set up things in the quilting room,” Kate suggested and Jessica nodded.

  “Sounds perfect. That way, we’ll be busy, and if the conversation lags, we can talk about the quilts.”

  Kate nodded. “Why don’t you put Ryan down for a nap in the back room? Then he’ll be close at hand and yet out of harm’s way.”

  Jessica nodded and followed Kate into the house, after sending one final glance south where Devon and the rest of the ranch hands were organizing the cattle on the trail. Giving Ryan a drink of milk while Kate fixed the tea, Jessica made her way into one of the two rooms that were being converted for Buck and Kate’s use. It had been Kate’s idea to put another bed in for Ryan. It seemed senseless to run up and down the stairs all day, and Jessica quickly saw the sense in it. Kate had even suggested that maybe Jessica and Ryan would one day prefer the privacy of the cottage once the guests overtook the house. Jessica had quickly pointed out that Devon now occupied the place in question, but Kate had just shrugged and told her that God had a way of working those things out.

  “But the way I’d like to see it worked out,” Jessica told Ryan, “isn’t likely to happen. Devon said God already has a wife picked out for him.”

  Ryan yawned and pulled at his ear. This was his routine signal that he was tired. Gently, she tucked him into bed and brushed his cheek with her fingertip. Ryan quickly realized she intended to leave him for a nap and decided he wanted no part of it. Jessica wasn’t surprised at the display as he began kicking at the covers. Soon he was sitting up and fussing for her to take him.

  “Ryan,” she said in a stern voice. “you lie back down and go to sleep. When you get up, we’ll go up to the ridge and see what we can see.”

  Ryan made no move to obey, so Jessica gently eased him back down and pulled the covers around him once again. “Now go to sleep and be a good boy.”

  “Goo boy,” Ryan muttered in between his fussing.

  “That’s right,” Jessica smiled. “You are a good boy, and Mama loves you.”

  She left him there to fuss and upon returning to the kitchen found that Kate had things well under control. “Is there anything you want me to do?” she questioned.

  “No. Just relax.”

  Jessica looked out the side kitchen window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the cattle drive. She could just catch sight of the last two outriders, but Devon was nowhere in sight. She strained her eyes for some sign of his brown Stetson, but the hills hid him from view.

  “You should have told him how you feel about him,” Kate admonished. Jessica felt her face grow hot as she looked back to where Kate studied her. “It’s pretty apparent.”

  “I didn’t realize,” Jessica admitted. “You don’t suppose he knows, do you?” She realized her voice sounded high pitched, almost frightened.

  “No, I don’t suppose he does,” Kate replied, turning back to putting cookies on the tray. “I think he’s too wrapped up in his own feelings.”

  Jessica nodded. “I think you’re probably right.”

  “Why don’t you go check on our visitor? Ought to be up to the house by now.”

  Jessica did as Kate suggested, her heart heavy with thoughts of Devon being in love with another woman. When she opened the front door, she was surprised to find a smartly dressed woman making her way up the front steps of the porch.

  The woman, looking to be in her late forties, carried herself with a regal air. Her golden blond hair, although liberally sprinkled with gray, was carefully styled and pinned tightly beneath a beautiful bonnet of lavender silk.

  “Good morning,” Jessica said, trying her best to sound welcoming.

  “Good morning to you,” the woman replied. “I’m Gertrude Jenkins, and you must be Jessica Gussop.”

  “Albright. Jessica Albright. Gussop was my maiden name.”

  “Of course. I remember Gus having quite a spell when you married.”

  Jessica felt her defenses rise to the occasion. “We don’t get many visitors here, Mrs. Jenkins. Won’t you come in?”

  The woman smiled. “I used to come here quite often, you know, before Gus died. After he died, I went on an extended European trip. Couldn’t bear to stick around here with him gone, don’t you know?”

  Jessica couldn’t figure the woman out. She’d never heard of Gertrude Jenkins, much less in any capacity that endeared her to her father. She ushered the woman into the house and, rather than stopping at the front parlor, led her down the hall to the room she and Kate used for quilting. Kate already sat sewing behind the quilting frame, while Jessica’s work lay on the seat of the chair nearest to Kate. It looked for all intents and purposes that Jessica had only moments before left the work in order to answer the door.

  “Well, if it isn’t Gerty Jenkins,” Kate said in greeting. “I heard tell you were back in the area.” Jessica watched the exchange between the two women, feeling the immediate tension when Gertrude spotted Kate.

  “Hello, Kate,” came the crisp reply. She glanced around the room and sniffed. “Well, if this isn’t quaint.”

  “We’ve been working on quilts. We were just going to have some tea and cookies,” Jessica offered rather formally. “I do hope you can stay and partake with us?”

  Gertrude glanced to the small table where the refreshments awaited their attention. “I’m certain I can. Especially after coming all this way.”

  “Gerty lives on the ranch directly south,” Kate told Jessica. “It’s her drive you pass by on the way to church.”

  Jessica smiled and nodded. “I remember Devon mentioning the drive leading to another ranch.”

  “Devon? Devon Carter?” Gertrude questioned. “Don’t tell me he’s still here at Windridge.”

  “Of course he is,” Kate replied before Jessica could answer. “He was like a son to Gus, and Jessica has come to rely on him as well.”

  Gertrude eyed Jessica rather haughtily as she pulled white kid gloves from her hands. “I suppose it is difficult when you know nothing of ranching.”

  Jessica could immediately see that Gertrude had no intention of being a friend. But her reasons for visiting in the first place were still a mystery.

  Ignoring the comment, Jessica motioned to a high-backed chair. “Won’t you sit down? I’ll pour the tea.”

  “Cream and sugar, please,” Gertrude stated as she took her seat.

  Jessica nodded and went to the task. “Would you care for some of Kate’s sugar cookies? They’re quite delicious.”

  “If you have no cakes, I suppose they’ll have to do,” the woman replied.

  Jessica served her and then brought a cup of plain tea to Kate. She tried to question Kate with her expression, but Kate only smiled.

  “I suppose I should have visited sooner,” Gertrude continued before anyone else could take up the conversation, “but I’ve only returned last week. A year abroad has done me a world of good.”

  “This last year has done us a world of good as well,” Kate replied, continuing with her stitches.

  Jessica thought the response rather trite given Kate’s usual friendliness, but she said nothing. Instead, she tried to draw out the reason for Gertrude’s visit. “I’m pleased you have found the time to call upon us,” Jessica began. “I don’t believe we’ve had a single visitor in the past year.”

  “Well, it really is no wonder. The place is in an awful state of disrepair.”

  “Oh,” Jessica said, looking first to Kate, then back to Gertrude, “you must not have had the opportunity to look around you. We’ve been making steady progress throughout the year. We are, in fact, moving ahead with plans to turn Windridge into something rather special.”

  “Well, it
once was quite special,” Gertrude said, flicking crumbs from her skirt onto the floor. “Do tell, what plans have you for the place?”

  Jessica licked her lips and took the tiniest sip of tea to steady her nerves. “We’re opening Windridge to the public. We are taking on guests next summer and becoming a working vacation ranch. A quiet respite from the city, if you will.”

  Gertrude appeared stunned. “Are you suggesting this place will become a spa—a resort? Here in Kansas?”

  “Not only suggesting it, Gerty,” Kate threw in, “but the plans are already in the works. Devon is bringing back the final touches in new furnishings and supplies.”

  “Was that him heading out with that scrawny herd?”

  “Him and Buck and the others,” Kate replied. “Only Devon is heading on to Kansas City. He figured we’d best keep the others here to keep an eye on things.”

  “Yes, but who will keep an eye on Devon Carter?”

  Jessica perked up at this. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “I simply mean, my dear,” Gertrude began, “the man should not be trusted.”

  “Bah,” Kate said in disgust. “Gus trusted him.”

  “Yes, and see where it got him.”

  “I don’t think I understand,” Jessica interjected, feeling the anger between the two women.

  “Gerty is just showing her age.” All eyes turned to Kate at this. “Gerty’s daughter was once engaged to Devon, but she broke it off.”

  “She had to. There was simply no other choice under the circumstances,” Gertrude said stiffly.

  Jessica felt the tension mount. She silently wished Kate would stir the woman into another subject of conversation, but Gertrude remained fixed on her mark.

  “Devon was seen with another woman in Cottonwood Falls. Of course, my poor Jane was devastated. They were barely two weeks away from their own wedding. It grieved her so much she stayed out the entire night and came home weeping in the wee hours of the morning.”

  Kate rolled her eyes, and Jessica was hard-pressed not to smile. Apparently Kate thought the story to be less than accurate, but Gertrude didn’t seem to notice. “I was heartsick, and had her father still been alive, he would no doubt have gone to take Devon Carter to task for his behavior.

  “Poor Jane cried until she was exhausted, then told me she had found Devon in the arms of another woman.” Gertrude leaned closer. “He was kissing her, don’t you know? Of course, Jane felt terribly misused. She was never herself after that and ran off with the first man who asked for her hand after Devon’s terrible behavior.”

  “That wasn’t exactly the story we heard,” Kate muttered under her breath.

  Gertrude glared at her but said nothing to support the idea that her version was anything but the honest facts of the matter.

  “I simply wouldn’t trust him out of sight, my dear. Gus and I discussed it on many an occasion, and while Gus felt the need to give the young man a chance, I always felt there was something rather shiftless about him.”

  “You let Jane get engaged to him,” Kate threw out.

  “Yes,” Gertrude replied in a clipped tone, “but then every mother makes mistakes. I wanted Jane’s happiness, and she was certain Devon Carter could give her everything she desired.”

  Jessica felt shaken and uncertain of herself. She wondered if the other woman Jane had found Devon with was the same one who now held his heart. “More tea?” she asked weakly.

  “No, thank you,” Gertrude replied, setting the cup and saucer aside. “I really should be going. I can see that you both have your hands full, and there’s much that needs my attention at home. I do recall someone mentioning, however, that you have a child, Mrs. Albright.”

  “That’s right. My Ryan is almost two. He’s sleeping right now, or I’d give you a proper introduction. Perhaps Sunday at church?”

  “Yes, perhaps so,” Gertrude replied, getting to her feet. “I do suggest you heed my advice. Devon Carter is not all he appears to be, and if you have given him a large sum of money, it might well be the last time you see him or your funds.” She glanced at Kate. “Good day, Kate. Mrs. Albright.”

  Jessica walked out with the haughty woman and paused on the porch. “Thank you for coming, Mrs. Jenkins.”

  “I felt I owed it to Gus. You know we were very close to an understanding. Had he lived, I’m certain I would be mistress of Windridge, and our ranches would join together to make a mighty empire.”

  Jessica did her best to show no signs of surprise at this announcement. She merely nodded and bid the woman good day.

  Gertrude Jenkins climbed into her carriage and pulled on her gloves. “I suppose we will be seeing each other again soon. Don’t forget what I said about Mr. Carter. It’s not too late to send someone after him and change the course of events to come.”

  With that, she turned the horses and headed the buggy down the lane. Jessica watched for several moments, uncertain what to think or feel about the woman and her visit. Not only had Mrs. Jenkins discredited Devon, but she’d implied an intimacy with Jessica’s father. An intimacy that suggested marriage. Jessica found it impossible to believe and thought to question Kate about it, but it was clear the two women had nothing but disdain for each other.

  With a sigh, Jessica decided it wasn’t worth the bother. She trusted Devon to do what he said he would do. Closing the door behind her, Jessica decided to close out negative thoughts of her visitor. She had no reason to worry and refused to borrow the trouble that Gertrude Jenkins so expertly offered.

  Chapter 8

  The first week without Devon at Windridge left Jessica feeling listless and bored. Kate kept her occupied with canning and butchering, but at night Jessica had nothing to keep her from thinking about Devon. Not only that, but Ryan cried and called for him, leaving Jessica little doubt that her fears about Ryan’s attachment to the cowboy were well founded.

  Week two spent itself out with the return of Sam and Joe and the departure of Neil and Bob. Jessica worked with Kate to make lye soap. Kate told her there was no sense in paying out good money for store-bought soap when they had the hog fat and other ingredients on hand. Jessica hated the work but realized she was doing something important to keep Windridge up and running. Soap was a necessity of life—especially if you intended to keep guests.

  By the third week, Jessica began to watch from her upstairs window for some sign of Devon’s return. She mourned the loss along with her son and grew despondent and moody. Kate and Buck watched her with knowing smiles and tried their best to interest her in other things, but it was no use.

  An early snow followed by a fierce ice storm caused Jessica to sink even lower. Now it was impossible to spend much time outside, and even horseback riding was curtailed. Making the hour journey into Cottonwood Falls was clearly out of the question, and so their boredom intensified.

  Gertrude Jenkins’s words kept intruding into Jessica’s thoughts. She realized the older woman had planted seeds of doubt, and although Jessica was determined not to let them grow, Devon’s delay seemed to bring about their germination. She wondered at Devon’s past and why her father thought so highly of him. She wondered if Gertrude had known something about Devon that no one else had knowledge of. Maybe Jane Jenkins had truly seen Devon betraying her.

  Jessica hated even allowing such thoughts, but as November passed and December came upon them and still there was no word from Devon Carter, she began to fear the worst.

  “Buck says it looks to be nice for a few days,” Kate told Jessica one morning. “He doesn’t see any reason why we can’t go in and participate in the ladies’ Christmas quilt party.”

  “I don’t feel like going,” Jessica told Kate.

  “I know. Which is exactly why we’re going.”

  Jessica looked up from where she was busy washing the breakfast dishes. Kate had that
determined look that told Jessica clearly she’d brook no nonsense in the matter.

  “What about Ryan?” she asked, casting a glance at her son. At almost two years of age, Ryan was into everything, and it was too cold for him to travel the long distance into Cottonwood Falls.

  “Buck is going to take care of him,” Kate told her firmly.

  “Buck?”

  “Absolutely. He handled our own boys well enough. There’s no reason at Ryan’s age that Buck can’t see to his needs. I’ve already talked with him, and Buck thinks it’s a good idea. He knows how worried you are and how hard the waiting has been. Besides, Devon might even come in on the train while we’re in town.”

  It was this last thought that made up Jessica’s mind. “All right, let’s do it.”

  Kate grinned. “I thought you’d see things my way.”

  ❧

  But three hours later, Jessica wasn’t at all sure that they should have come. The location for the sewing party rotated each year through the various families in the church and this time was at Esther Hammel’s house. The living room had been cleared of furniture with the exception of wooden-backed chairs, a couple worktables, and several quilting frames.

  This was an annual event for the women of Cottonwood Falls, and everyone took their duties quite seriously. One person came to help Esther set up the frames and worktables, while another was in charge of organizing the refreshments. Someone else held the responsibility of making sure the word got out as to the place and time, and yet another lady arranged a group of women to help with the cleanup.

  Everyone brought food to the party, and Jessica was rather relieved to find that this was the only requirement she had to meet. Esther said that being as it was her first year to join them, they would go rather easy on her.

  The women gathered, taking their places around the various work areas. Jessica and Kate were in the process of piecing some quilt tops together, so they took seats at one of the worktables rather than at the frames. Esther Hammel, a petite woman with fiery blue eyes and a knotted bun of white hair, saw to it that everyone had all they needed in order to work before calling the women to order.