Promising Hearts

by Radclyffe

  A minute later, Jessie tested her leg. “Doesn’t feel much worse than when one of my stallions kicks me. I can walk on it.”

  “Keep your damn head down,” Vance said, her relief giving way to anger at whoever had shot at them. She turned at a sound behind her and saw Charlie and another man, Johnny probably, crab-walking up the slope toward them, guns drawn, faces grim. She pointed to the ridge. “The shooter was probably a lookout, hoping to scare us off. The rest are probably down the other side, waiting to see if we’ll keep coming.” She looked to Jessie, who nodded agreement, then pointed Charlie and Johnny toward the right. “You two see if you can get over to that outcropping…there, and Jessie and I will work our way around this one here. Then we should have them in a crossfire down below us.”

  The two men glanced at Jessie.

  “It’s a good plan, boys. Let’s do it.”

  The few minutes it took to reach the ridge felt like an hour to Vance as they cautiously darted from one outcropping to the next, half expecting gunfire from some quarter. She breathed a sigh of relief when she and Jessie reached the top without further shots being fired. From where they crouched behind a cluster of barrel-sized rocks, they could just make out Charlie and Johnny in a similar position partway around the ridge overlooking the deep narrow valley below. Scanning the area, she could make out portions of the herd grazing on the short grass that bordered a tortuously winding river. It wasn’t surprising that the rustlers had chosen this location. Fifty prime mustangs grazed in the valley below, mares watching over their still-wobbly-legged foals as they ambled innocently beneath a clear dawn sky. Vance had seen bucolic scenes like this before erupt into gunfire and death in the blink of an eye. While a small corner of her mind noted the beauty, all of her senses were focused on detecting any sign of the enemy. She sniffed the crisp, sharp air and smiled, inching closer to Jessie.

  “Cigarette.”

  “Where?”

  Vance squinted in the sunlight and caught a puff of white out of the corner of her eye, come and gone so quickly it might have been a mirage, but she knew it wasn’t. “There. Halfway down and just to the right of that lone pine.”

  Without moving, Jessie stared and, after a few seconds, saw the telltale whiff of smoke. “That’s one. How many more do you think?”

  “Charlie said they’d seen four men yesterday, right?”

  Jessie nodded.

  “Then they’re probably all still here.”

  “Damn fools if they think they can ride onto our land and ride out with our horses.” Jessie shook her head, then glanced at Vance. “Killing a man doesn’t come easy to me.”

  “I understand. It might not come to that.”

  “I guess we’ll see,” Jessie said, eyes narrowing as she watched a prong-horned antelope bolt from behind a clump of sagebrush and gracefully dance down the rocky slope. She pointed. “Over there.”

  Vance followed her direction in time to see sunlight glint on a gun barrel. Then the air exploded with gunfire, and she was shooting back into the clouds of dirt and rock chips being kicked up by the fusillade of bullets from Jessie and the hands. She had one clear shot when a man ran across an open space between two rock formations, but before she could fire he went down and did not move. From Jessie’s grim expression, she knew it had been her bullet that stopped him.

  “Two of them are running,” Jessie shouted.

  Vance peered around the rocks and saw two men well down the valley pulling whinnying, nervous horses from behind a stand of juniper. “Your men will pick them up farther down the valley.”

  “One more up here, then.”

  “Maybe. Maybe he already left.” Vance had barely gotten the words out when she was knocked onto her back. It felt as if a giant fist had punched her in the shoulder, and she immediately felt the familiar fire in her chest and arm. “I guess not,” she grunted, pressing her hand to her left shoulder. She blinked the smoke and sweat from her eyes and saw her left hand lying useless in her lap, the arm bones shattered, the crimson pool gathering on earth so drenched with blood it could hold no more. Milton sprawled beside her, his sightless eyes accusing her. The sound of a thousand marching men bore down upon her, and for just an instant, she welcomed death.

  “Don’t think about going anywhere,” Jessie said sharply as she shielded Vance with her body. “Mae will have my hide and then some.”

  Mae. Mae will be angry. Worse, Mae will be hurt. Vance took a deep breath and moved her right hand slowly over her shoulder and down the upper portion of her amputated arm. “I don’t think it got much of me.”

  “Let me just get a look.”

  “Hand me my gun,” Vance said, biting back the pain. “Dropped it.”

  “Here.” Jessie put the revolver in Vance’s surprisingly steady hand, then signaled for Charlie and Johnny to fire into the valley to give them some cover. She knelt beside Vance, shoved the duster aside, and ripped open her shirt. “Got a bit of a hole just above your collarbone. It’s bleeding some.”

  “Through and through, I think. I can still move the shoulder joint. Help me sit u—” Vance caught movement out of the corner of her eye, rolled onto her side, and fired at the man who was pointing a rifle at Jessie’s back. He groaned, fell to his knees, and then dropped face first into the dirt. “At least it’s wasn’t my gun arm.”

  When the pain surged again, she closed her eyes and let the sound of battle slip away.

  *

  Kate found Jessie on the back porch, staring into the dark yard with a half-empty glass of whiskey in her hand. Coming up behind her, Kate put her arms around Jessie’s waist and rested her cheek between her shoulder blades. “You shouldn’t be standing on that leg, darling.”

  “It’s fine, Kate. I’ve had worse after an afternoon in the corral.”

  “That might be, but it’s a fresh wound and I don’t want it bleeding again.” It had taken her the better part of the evening to convince herself that Jessie wasn’t badly injured. When she’d watched the cowboys’ return, one leading a riderless horse, she’d thought her heart would stop. Then she’d seen Jessie on Star with Vance slumped in front of her, and she’d been able to breathe again. Until she’d seen the blood soaking Vance’s shirt and heard Mae’s agonized cry. “It’s after midnight. You need to come to bed.”

  Jessie drank the whiskey down in one swallow and set the glass on the railing. She covered Kate’s arms with hers, welcoming the warmth against her back. The sky was inky black, cloudless. Stars glittered like chips of diamonds. She felt so cold inside. “It was a night like this last fall when I was waiting for you to come to me. We were going to leave all this and run away. Remember that?”

  “How could I not?” Kate gently drew her arms from beneath Jessie’s and turned her lover to face her. She pressed both hands to Jessie’s chest and leaned against her, searching her face. “What troubles you so?”

  “Two people died today. It was my decision to go up there.” Jessie sighed. “I knew it was right when I left here last night. I don’t know why it doesn’t feel that way just now.”

  Kate smiled softly and stroked Jessie’s cheek. “Because life means something to you, and even though you did the right thing, protecting what’s ours, it hurts to take a life.”

  “They fired first.”

  “Yes,” Kate said gently. “And you protected yourself. And Vance protected you.” She laid her cheek on Jessie’s chest. “It takes a strong will to live in this land. Most people couldn’t. It breaks them—destroys their dreams or corrupts their hearts. You have a good heart. I trust it. I trust you.”

  Jessie tightened her hold and closed her eyes as tears trembled on her lashes. “I’d have no heart at all without you,” she whispered, her voice rough and shaking. “If I hadn’t found you, I don’t know that I could have lived my life out here, or anywhere, without becoming one of those people dying from broken dreams. I need you, Kate.” She shivered. “So much.”

  “I knew from the first moment I saw you
that you would change my life.” Kate kissed Jessie and smoothed her tears away. “I knew in that instant that this was where I belonged, in this land, with you. I promise you will always have my heart, as I have yours.”

  “You think Mae will ever forgive me?”

  “She loves you. She will.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Mae watched Vance sleep. She turned the lamp down so low the wick threatened to gutter and go out. There was very little moon, and although the sound of Vance’s steady breathing was comforting, she feared the dark this night. She couldn’t remember the last time there was something she’d wanted so badly the thought of losing it made her scream inside. When she’d seen Vance slumped against Jessie, her face ashen, her white shirt soaked with blood, she’d known what dying felt like. Carefully, she reached over and brushed damp, dark strands of sweat-soaked hair from Vance’s forehead.

  Vance’s lids flickered and she muttered hoarsely, “Mae?”

  “Right here, sweetheart.”

  “Might you have some water?” Vance tried unsuccessfully to sit up but found that her limbs were strangely sluggish. Her left arm, especially, was an agonized mass of muscle and bone. She reached over, discovered the empty place where she knew her hand should be, and groaned.

  “Shh, love,” Mae crooned. “It’s going to be all right.” She settled carefully onto the bed next to Vance and slipped her arm behind her, taking care to support her back away from the area of the bandaged shoulder. “I’ve got water here. Let me raise your head.”

  Vance drank thirstily. The tepid water tasted like ambrosia. Mae’s voice sounded like beautiful music. “Arm’s gone.”

  “Yes,” Mae said, tears nearly forcing her throat closed around the word.

  “Remember now.” Vance opened her eyes and focused on Mae’s worried face. “Appomattox.”

  “No justice, is there?” Mae deposited the glass on the bedside table and stroked Vance’s cheek. “That happening to you the last battle of the war.”

  “I don’t know.” Vance grimaced. “Divine justice?”

  “Can’t see why a hero should be rewarded that way.”

  “I’m no hero.”

  “You are.” Mae kissed her tenderly. “And you’re going to be all right. Caleb was here.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That you were lucky, which all of us already knew.” Mae settled her free arm around Vance’s waist, caressing her gently, reassuring herself that Vance was really awake and with her. “The bullet missed all the important things, apparently. He said you’d feel weak for a spell, but there’s no more damage to your arm that he could see.”

  “Damn thing hurts like it did right after I was first shot. Hasn’t felt like that for half a year.” Vance grinned crookedly. “Better than getting the other arm shot up, though.”

  “It would’ve been a damn sight better if neither one of them got shot up,” Mae said fiercely, but her eyes, soft with concern, belied her anger.

  “Wasn’t my intention.” Vance put all her effort into raising her right arm and found Mae’s hand where it rested on her chest. She squeezed, surprised at how weak her grip seemed. “Sorry if I worried you.”

  Mae laughed, a sound that bordered on a sob. “Scared me half to death. Don’t do it again.”

  “It will be my solemn endeavor not to.” Vance took a deep breath, feeling a little stronger with each moment. “How’s Jessie? Her leg okay?”

  “Kate and I had gotten you both cleaned up before Caleb got here. He says she needs to be careful riding for a few days, but no real harm done.”

  Vance closed her eyes. “That’s good.” Suddenly, she stiffened. “What time is it?”

  “Why, I don’t know exactly. Going on toward one, I imagine.” When Vance tried once more to sit up, Mae said sharply, “Here now, stop that. You’ll start something bleeding.”

  “Won’t you be missed back in town? I don’t want you bringing trouble on yourself because of me.” Frustrated, she raked her hand through her hair. “Especially when I’m laid up and can’t be there to look after—”

  “I sent a note round to Frank with Caleb telling him that I was sick in bed out here at Kate’s. That will buy me another day or so.” Mae took Vance’s face gently between her fingers and waited until Vance met her gaze. “You’ll have to get used to me caring for you, just like you look after me.”

  “I’ll not have anyone hurt you again,” Vance whispered. “Especially because of me.”

  Mae smiled and kissed Vance. “I can see that the things I love about you are also the things that are going to vex me to tears.”

  Vance grinned. “Love me?”

  “Oh yes,” Mae whispered. “I love you just about beyond reason.”

  Suddenly serious, Vance brought Mae’s hand to her lips and kissed her palm gently. “For just a minute out there today—yesterday—I thought I was back at Appomattox. It hurt so much. Milton, my friend, was dead because of me. I knew Lee’s soldiers were coming, and if I didn’t die before they reached me, they’d probably shoot me where I lay. I expected to die and I didn’t really mind.”

  Mae’s heart thundered painfully, but she kept silent, knowing it was time for this wound to be purged.

  “I got confused for a minute out there,” Vance said, remembering the sweat and the pain and the soul-deep weariness. “I was ready to let go of everything, just to stop the hurt.”

  “Sweetheart,” Mae whispered brokenly, kissing her forehead and holding her as closely as she dared without causing her injured shoulder more pain.

  “But then Jessie reminded me of the one thing that mattered.” Vance lay her head on Mae’s breast. “She reminded me of you, and I realized I had the best reason of all for living.” Mae’s heart pulsed strong and steady beneath her cheek, and Vance felt the promise of happiness in every beat. “I love you.” She tilted her head back and smiled into Mae’s eyes. “You’re all the reason I’ll ever need.”

  “I never thought to have love like this in my life, not even when I was young enough to still believe that love existed. Not like this. Not all the way through me, in every breath I take.”

  “You can believe it.” Vance held Mae’s hand to her own heart. “I promise.”

  *

  Jessie peeked in the open door of the upstairs bedroom. Vance was asleep. Mae sat beside the bed, watching Vance with an expression of such tenderness on her face that Jessie was embarrassed to intrude. As she started to turn away, a soft voice said, “She’s worn out. You’ll not wake her.”

  Jessie turned back and waited while Mae quietly rose and crossed the room to her. In a whisper, she asked, “How is she feeling?”

  “She’ll admit to it hurting, which I imagine means the pain’s fearsome, but her mind is clear.” Mae smiled. “And she’s showing signs of her usual stubbornness, so I imagine she’ll be fine before long.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Mae stepped into the hall and drew Jessie away from the door. She kept the door ajar so that she could see into the room in case Vance wakened. With a hand on Jessie’s arm, she regarded her quietly. “I’m sorry for blaming you the way I did earlier. It’s not your fault that Vance got hurt.”

  Jessie shrugged, remembering the terror in Mae’s eyes when she’d first seen Vance. When Jessie had gotten down from Star after easing Vance into the arms of several waiting men, Mae had flung herself at her, accusing her of letting Vance get killed over nothing more than a few horses. She’d thought for a second that Mae was going to slap her. Then Mae had just run out of steam and turned away, shaking. At that moment, Jessie had wished that Mae had struck her. “It was my fight, not hers.”

  “Vance is your friend. She was only doing for you what you would’ve done for her.” Mae sighed. “When I first saw her and all that blood…I thought I might lose her. I just needed a target for my fear. You were handy.” She patted Jessie’s chest. “And strong enough to take it. I’m sorry for forgetting that tender heart of yours.”
>
  Smiling, Jessie caught Mae’s hand and held it. “She saved my life today. She’s more than a friend.” She kissed Mae’s forehead. “You both are.”

  “Montana,” Mae said softly. “I have loved you, I think, since the first time I saw you walk into the Nugget, covered in trail dust and sunshine.” She laughed when Jessie blushed. “Somehow I always knew it wasn’t meant to be, and it wasn’t until I saw you with Kate that I understood why.” She looked back into the room at the pale woman, so fragile appearing now, asleep in the bed. “Your heart was meant for Kate. And mine was meant for her.”

  “You’ll always have a place in mine,” Jessie whispered.

  “And that means the world to me.” Mae regarded Jessie intently. “I want you to do something for me.”

  “Anything.”

  “I want you to see that Vance doesn’t try to change the way things are for me. At the Nugget.” Even in the half-light of the hallway, Mae could see the muscle jump in Jessie’s jaw. “You know how things are. That’s not going to change, and there’s no sense her getting killed trying.” She grasped Jessie’s hand again and squeezed, hard. “It would kill me to lose her. Please.”

  “I can’t make that promise,” Jessie said, adding quickly, “but I can promise she won’t be alone. I won’t let anything happen to her. I swear.”

  “You get yourself mixed up in this and end up getting hurt, Kate will never forgive you or me.”

  Jessie shook her head. “Kate understands.”

  Mae closed her eyes. “Lord. There’s no talking sense into any of you.”

  “Don’t worry.” Jessie kissed Mae’s cheek. “Vance isn’t going to do anything foolish, and if she has a mind to, I’ll see that she doesn’t.”

  “I’ll hold you to that, Montana.”

  “You can.”

  *

  The next time Vance woke, Mae was gone and Jessie was standing at the foot of the bed. “What time is it?”