Chapter Forty-seven
The inky black of the eastern sky eased to gray as Chase sat sulking. Streaks of light, hair-thin lines of pink and white crisscrossed the horizon. He’d been sitting in the same position on the cold front porch now for over two hours. His back muscles screamed for release, but he wouldn’t give them any. A self-punishment of sorts, he thought.
Jessie had pulled out three hours ago, taking with her Sarah, Gabe, and surprisingly Jake, too. She’d said that since she was unable to sleep, she may as well get started. It would be easier for Sarah to awake in the wagon on their way to town than having to say good-bye to her pa.
Her pa!
Gabe and Jake had been stunned when Jessie had first told them that they’d be heading back to their old home soon. And then their disappointment had turned into something else. Bitterness.
Jake had said that he’d ride back, help them make the trip to Valley Springs, and then he was heading out to California, inviting Gabe to come along. Gabe had declined the offer, saying his place was with Jessie and Sarah. That he’d be the one looking after them from now on.
The boy would do a good job. He’d been doing a great job already. He’d proved that he could track, hunt, drive the wagon, and just about everything else they would need a man to do.
But what about Jessie?
She’d get over him and someday find another man to fall in love with. When she got settled, he’d send her that telegram he’d planned way back, when they were first discussing how they would end this marriage that had started out as a sham. Then he’d sell the ranch and head out to the West Coast himself. Maybe his destiny lay somewhere out there.
Sighing, he ran his hand across his tired face, feeling the thick growth of whiskers. He hadn’t had a chance to shave for three days. First his mares had arrived early, and he’d spent all that day getting them to quiet down. The next morning Sarah had been abducted, and now this morning his wife and family had packed up and left. It wouldn’t matter much if he never shaved again.
Without warning, his mind flashed back to Jessie running her hands over his freshly shaved cheeks, marveling over how soft they felt. Gently touching a nick he’d left in his chin. Drawing his face close. Kissing him. Taking his breath away with her tenderness.
Jessie!
Had he ever told her that he loved her? He’d kept that wonderful secret to himself.
One of the horses nickered from the corral. He knew he should get up. Tend to the animals, do chores. Still he didn’t move.
The horse nickered again.
“All right, I’m coming.” The new mares, which had brought him so much satisfaction before, now left him cold. They were well-bred for working cattle and would do fine to build this ranch. Muscular hips and fine sloping shoulders. Small heads with intelligent eyes.
Chase laughed without humor, amused at how fast a dream could turn into a nightmare. They were merely horses, nothing more, animals that could easily be replaced.
He stroked one velvety muzzle and headed back to the house. Normally Jessie would be greeting him with a hot cup of coffee and a shy smile, one that couldn’t hide the pleasure she’d been learning in his arms.
He went to the stove and filled his cup with the lukewarm sludge that had formed in the bottom of the pot. Taking a sip, he winced. Impatiently he set his cup on the table and paced over to the fire. The house was too quiet. It was too easy to hear his regrets taunting him, like specters in some ghoulish play.
This was absurd. He needed to get busy and stop feeling sorry for himself. He always knew deep in his heart that this would be the way things ended up. All he needed now was a diversion. He’d get cleaned up and ride into town, tell Frank to sell this place lock, stock and barrel, to the highest bidder. Then he’d be on his way.
Standing at the porcelain pitcher in their bedroom, Chase lathered his face with shaving soap. He swiped the sharp razor across his chin. The little shelf that hung next to the mirror called to him. He looked. Jessie must have forgotten her bottle of vanilla. Cursing himself for a fool, he pulled the stopper and breathed in the homey sweetness. His chest tightened.
Finishing up, he went over to where his clean shirt hung on a peg on the wall. As he pulled it over his shoulders, he glanced down. Poking out of the covers on his side of the bed was Sarah’s doll, the one she’d been holding the morning she’d woken him from his laudanum-induced sleep. He smiled, tenderness so strong filling his chest, he winced.
He picked it up and fingered where one of its button eyes had come off. Sarah had cried when it happened, saying her dolly couldn’t see. But Jessie, cradling her, had promised to sew a new eye back on.
Chase stared at the one-eyed doll. Releasing his breath, he sat on the edge of the bed and cradled his head in the palms of his hands. Moments ticked by. A feeling of anticipation stole over him. Was it a coincidence that the doll was stuck in his side of the bed? Had Sarah placed it there? Or was it possibly more?
Maybe a sign?
Was he wrong about being responsible for the things that had happened in his past? His conscience screamed yes, he was responsible. Molly may still be alive today if not for him being gone. And yet his heart whispered no.
That one he’d have to work on.
He was being a blind fool. He held up the tattered doll and contemplated her. Time stopped. Minutes ticked by as he struggled for understanding.
Jessie directed Gabe to pull up in front of Red Rooster Inn, the boarding house on the outskirts of town. The kind people of Logan would learn the truth about her and Chase before long, and she didn’t think she could bear the sympathetic looks that were sure to come her way if she stayed at the popular place in the center of everything. Thanks to Frank Lloyd, the townspeople had welcomed them with open arms, and within days of their arrival she was receiving invitations to quilting parties and ladies’ teas.
Her hand snaked down protectively to her abdomen. How could Chase have let them go so easily? He could barely even look at her when they’d left that morning. She couldn’t believe the love she’d felt from him the past month was all a charade. But it was. And she had to move on. Her plan was to stay in town until they were ready to travel. Then, with the boys’ help, she could make the trip back. Maybe since Beth was now gone, Mrs. Hollyhock would want some company.
“Do you want me to get us a couple of rooms, Jessie?” Gabe wrapped the reins around the wagon brake.
“No. It’s too early to be waking them. We’ll just wait in the wagon until we hear someone stirring inside. Besides, I don’t want to wake Sarah just yet after the time she had yesterday.”
She squared her shoulders. She was through feeling sorry for herself. She’d taken care of herself before. Certainly, she could do it again.
Not that the thought of being on her own again wasn’t completely scary. Especially now with Sarah and the new baby. Had these kinds of circumstance forced her mother to abandon her for her own good? Had she done her best for as long as she could? Things weren’t quite as black and white to Jessie any longer. Sympathy for her mother replaced her anger and disappointment. A seed of forgiveness blossomed and began to grow.
Chase took the steps of the Red Rooster Inn slowly, one at a time, and stopped just short of the door. Removing his hat, he rubbed the scab where he’d been wounded by Lonnie’s bullet.
If he knew Jessie, her pride wasn’t going to let her hear him out. He kept reminding himself he’d never told her that he loved her. He was ashamed of himself for that. Even after all this time. And all the nights they’d spent together.
How was she supposed to know what lay buried in his heart? Certainly, she’d know by his actions? Well, maybe not. He couldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to speak to him.
He was stalling. He knew it. He noted that people in town were now going about business as usual, some opening stores, some sweeping the wooden boardwalk. Others going into the hotel for breakfast.
Not giving himself any more time to think, h
e lifted his hand and rapped twice on the door. Expecting Dora Lee, the proprietress, to answer, Chase was stunned into silence when Mrs. Hollyhock stepped through the door. Her back was ramrod straight and ready for battle.
“Well, well, well,” she eyed him coolly. “Jist what have we here?” Apparently, she hadn’t missed him in the least.
“I want to talk to Jessie.” Just the sight of her know-it-all gaze had him seeing red.
“She ain’t here.”
“Like hell she’s not. The wagon is out front as plain as day.”
The old woman, no taller that a child, pulled the door closed behind her, its click ringing loud with triumph. “She don’t want to see you.”
Chase counted to ten…then to twenty. “Ask her.”
“No. She’s resting.”
It was a standoff. Chase had the sinking feeling he wasn’t going to get past this one-granny army without a fight. “Dora Lee,” he called in a loud, commanding voice. “It’s Chase Logan. I need to talk to you.”
Mrs. Hollyhock’s eyes lit with pleasure. She all but preened. “Ain’t no use calling for Dora Lee. She’s gone and sold the place ta me.” She smiled sweetly. “Ain’t ya gunna welcome me ta town?”
Frustrated, Chase crushed the brim of his hat in his hands. He saw several heads pop out of windows trying to see the nature of their early-morning disturbance. He lowered his voice. “Please.”
“Mornin’, Chase,” Frank Lloyd said, stepping up next to him on the porch. “I see you’ve met our newest citizen of Logan.”
Chase hadn’t heard Frank’s approach and stared at his longtime friend. “Yes, I have.” This was getting more interesting by the moment.
“Yesterday, Mrs. Hollyhock invited me over for a cup of coffee and a piece of her famous peach cobbler,” Frank said. “I can hardly wait. By the way…” He looked at Chase inquisitively. “What are you doing here?”
It looked like he was going to have to bare his soul in front of the whole town. That is, if he wanted Jessie back bad enough. And of course there was no question about that. He still felt as though he could throttle this busybody, but now maybe he wouldn’t have to.
“I’m here to talk to Jessie.”
Franks eyebrows rose in question. “She inside?”
Chase nodded. “We”—he gestured to Mrs. Hollyhock—“were just discussing the possibilities of me speaking with my wife!”
Mrs. Hollyhock clucked her tongue. She reached for Frank’s arm but never left her position guarding the door. “Now don’t go getting sassy. She’s lying down. Resting. Her being in the family way and all.”
Chase felt as if he’d been poleaxed. He stared at the woman as if she’d sprouted another head. “What did you say?”
“Jessie has a bun in the oven. You know—she’s caught.” When he still didn’t answer, she grabbed her skirt and held it far out in front of her tiny body. “Expecting?”
Frank crushed him in his arms. “Congratulations, boy! I knew you had it in you.”
Mrs. Hollyhock, as if knowing she couldn’t hold him off any longer, stepped aside. He hurried through the door and looked around. Gabe and Jake sat quietly on the credenza, while Sarah played with some blocks on the floor. They’d been listening all along. Sarah smiled sweetly. Gabe pointed down the hall.
He was by Jessie’s side in four long strides. Kneeling next to the bed on one knee, he took her hand and pressed it to his lips. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice gravelly with emotion.
She blinked and looked away. “I was saving it for Christmas.”
“Ah, Jessie.” He reached out and took her into his arms. Her skin was so soft, so sweet. He cuddled her against his chest and stroked her hair.
“I love you,” he whispered close to her ear. He nuzzled the nape of her neck, and the warmth of her skin tickled his senses. “I can’t live without you.” When she didn’t answer right away, he thought maybe she hadn’t heard what he’d said. “I love you so much, just the thought of never seeing you again…is too much to bear.” His body jerked with emotion and he felt her hand caress his back. Reluctantly, he lifted himself to look into her face.
“Say something, sweetheart. Please.”
“I’m afraid, Chase. I don’t want to trap you. And now that you know about the baby, you’ll stay just for it.” The regret in her voice tore at his insides.
He shook his head and tenderly kissed her forehead. “No, that’s not true. I was already coming to bring you home. No matter what you said, I was determined to show you how much I love you. You belong with me. I never knew about the baby.”
“Are you…sure?”
“He’s sure as the manure he’s traipsing across my clean floorboards.” Mrs. Hollyhock’s voice escalated as she gawked at the mess he’d brought in. She lifted her shotgun for all to see, but her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “If he knows what’s good fer him, he’s sure.”
Gabe, Jake, and Frank, who was holding little Sarah, all laughed. Against his will, Chase had to join in.
“See, honey?” He winked at Jessie, who radiated with happiness. “A man can’t be any more sure than that.”
Epilogue
Christmas morning festivities were interrupted by a knock on the door. Jake jumped up from his seat by the fire, slowed not a bit by the gash on his head. The wound was healing slowly, but he’d announced repeatedly it would take more than a little knock on the head to stop him. The peppermint stick he’d found in his stocking was clenched between his teeth.
He opened the door.
“It’s Mr. Lloyd,” he called over his shoulder to Chase and Jessie. Gabe and Sarah were off in the kitchen warming some milk for hot cocoa.
Frank stepped in, shaking a dusting of newly fallen snow from his hat. “Sorry to barge in on Christmas Day.”
Chase was at his side in a moment, taking his coat and squeezing his friend in a bear hug. “You’re not barging in. You’re family. You’re always welcome here. Any day. Any time.” Merriment reverberated from Chase’s deep voice as Jessie stepped over into Chase’s embrace. “And Merry Christmas,” he added as he ran his hand lovingly down Jessie’s arm.
Jessie’s smile lit up her whole face. “Come in and sit down.”
Frank moved slower than normal, and Chase wondered at the reason. Usually his friend was unstoppable, the center of attention. He looked uneasy.
“What is it, Frank?”
Frank ran a hand through his thick hair and gazed into the fire.
“I have some news. Good news. I thought you’d want it right away.” His voice was serious, soft, and Jake withdrew slowly into the kitchen to give the adults their privacy.
Chase, already sitting again, leaned forward as if he could draw the information from his friend.
“Tell us Frank. Out with it.”
It didn’t look like good news to Jessie. Her heart wedged itself up into her throat, and she felt like she might be sick. Automatically her hand dropped protectively to her bulging tummy as if to comfort the child growing inside. Whatever this news was, it wasn’t good, and would most assuredly change her life. Laughter came from the kitchen, and the sweetness of the sound almost made her cry.
Chase nodded. “Frank?”
Frank cleared his throat. “It seems when Ester remodeled the mercantile three years ago, she took sick and had to stay home for a few days. Since she wasn’t there to ride herd over the carpenters, they did a shoddy job, not careful with important things. When they were moving the mail counter to the opposite side of the room, some letters fell into the open wall, and they were just discovered today. Ester had a snake in the store yesterday, and she ripped a few boards out to find the varmint.”
His face was akin to the snow outside. He held out a letter. “From Molly.”
Everything slowed down for Jessie. Like being in a dream, her arms and legs were instantly paralyzed, and she was rooted to her seat. Sucking in her breath took effort as she watched Chase ever so slowly reach out and take t
he dusty, bent envelope. He studied the letters spelling his name. Turning his head, he met her gaze. His eyes said it all.
Frank stood. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, or if I can help in any way.” He went to the door and took his hat from the peg. “Merry Christmas.”
Chase just looked at the envelope for several moments. His thumb brushed back and forth across the writing; then he handed it to Jessie. She tried to read his dark, shuttered eyes, interpret his expression. His chest rose and fell, his hand shook. No words were needed. She slowly opened the post.
The paper was gray from lying in the dank wall. It smelled of mold and dirt. Remnants of what may have been a flower at one time fell out and dusted Jessie’s lap.
The writing inside was scribbled as if it had been written in great haste. It was dated September 8, 1875. “My dearest Chase,” Jessie read,
By the time you get this letter I will be a married woman. I hope someday you will forgive me for what I have done. Part of my heart will always belong only to you.
Please try to understand that when Hank came into town I knew we were destined to be together, forever.
I ain’t proud we robbed the bank, I’m feeling mighty bad bout that. And what the townspeople must think of me I can’t even imagine. But wishing won’t make it different.
Jessie glanced at Chase before turning the paper over. He held his head in his hands, staring at the floor. She continued.
I hurt mostly when I ponder what the scandal would do to you. I pray it weren’t too bad.
I have to hurry now cause we’re moving on and I’ve only got a few moments more to finish or this letter will never get in the United States mail.
We’ve been traveling by horseback and I’m dirty and smell bout as good as a my old henhouse. I’d give anything to stop for a spell and bathe.
Where The Wind Blows Page 25
