Jessie's War (Civil War Steam)

by Connors, Meggan

  Land was so close. So close.

  Her fingers broke through ice as she clawed her way back up to standing. Her legs were heavy as she pushed through water toward land. She lost her balance and fell back, but this time, when she fell, the water only came up to her midsection.

  She gained her feet and tried again.

  Sodden skirts weighed her down, and ice bit into her tender flesh. Water gave way to rushes and reeds, and she tasted the salt of the lake on her tongue as she made one last push toward shore.

  She couldn’t breathe, the air bitter and cold and freezing on her tongue. She fell forward.

  Shallow water touched her cheek, and salt water and briny air flooded her mouth. The airship ascended into a cerulean sky before Jessie lost herself to the darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Hang on. I got you. I got you.

  A fluffy white cloud passed overhead, bright against a sky so blue Jessie thought she must be in heaven.

  Darkness.

  The oxygen filling her lungs tasted sharp and bitter on her tongue, so she stopped breathing. She didn’t need to, anyway.

  That’s it. I got you. Hang on.

  Her body rocked in time with the pounding of hooves, and her head fell back as a dark horse’s mane whipped her face. She closed her eyes and the darkness swallowed her again.

  She dreamed of a boy with star bright eyes and wavy dark hair. He yanked on her braids and chased her around the rocks, through sagebrush and past her father’s barn. He caught her, and suddenly he was a young man, grabbing her around the waist while they both howled with laughter.

  In the next moment, he framed her face with his hands and kissed her for the first time, there in the dark behind her father’s barn, her heart filled with him. He was everything to her—her Earth and her Heaven, and everything in between.

  Luke.

  Her frozen heart beat only for him.

  A woman’s face Jessie didn’t recognize appeared. Curly, light brown hair framing strong features. Her face changed, her skin darkening as her features shifted and morphed until Jessie’s mother stood over her, her dark eyes shining. Her touch burned. Behind her, there was only darkness.

  Stay here, Jessie. I know it’s hard. This is where you belong.

  The air in her lungs burned like fire.

  What’s your name? a distant voice asked.

  Jessie. Only no sound came out, her voice frozen in her throat.

  You’re gonna be okay.

  Darkness enveloped her again.

  * * * *

  Jessie shifted, and everything hurt. “Luke,” she whispered in a voice like broken glass.

  “Mama, she’s awake!” a child cried.

  Skirts rustled, and soon someone touched Jessie’s arm.

  “What’s your name, hon?

  “Luke.”

  “That’s a funny name for a girl,” the child said.

  “I don’t think that’s her name. Open your eyes. Tell me your name.”

  Jessie opened her eyes to a pretty, sweet-faced young woman. She had curly, light brown hair, long-lashed blue eyes and strong features. Freckles dusted her nose and her cheeks.

  “Jessie.” The voice that answered was hoarse, and didn’t sound like hers.

  The woman brushed her Jessie’s hair from her face and squeezed her shoulder in a companionable way. Behind her, a fire crackled merrily in the hearth. Jessie stretched, her muscles shrieking in angry protest. “Good. That’s good. You’ll need to move.” She gestured to the little girl standing beside her. “I’m Lucy Duvall and this is my daughter. My husband Emmitt brought you in.” She turned to her daughter. “Why don’t you go talk to your dad?”

  “Mother!”

  “No, child. Go.” When the girl retreated, Lucy handed Jessie a cup of tea. “You gave us quite a scare.”

  Jessie adjusted the blankets around her and stared at the fire for a long time. Pulling the blanket around her body, she attempted to stand, but her legs cramped and she fell back.

  “Whoa. You’re in no shape to be going anywhere. You were near frozen when you got here. The doctor said you’d need to rest for at least a few days.”

  Jessie brushed her hair out of her face and found it dry. She didn’t have any idea how long she’d been under, or any memory of being visited by a doctor. “How long have I been here?”

  Lucy turned and went back to the kitchen. Her home was tiny, the kitchen and sitting room little more than one big room. “It’s been five or six hours since Emmitt brought you in. Doctor came and went a couple hours ago.”

  “That long?” Jessie’s heart drummed beneath her ribcage, harsh and frantic. “I have to get back.”

  “Absolutely not. A few hours ago, we were certain we’d be sending for the undertaker. Then you said a name, and I sent Emmitt out for the doctor instead.”

  Jessie chewed her lip and stared into the fire. “Luke.”

  “That’s the one.” She wiped flour-covered hands on her apron. “He’s your husband?”

  “Yeah.” Jessie turned her eyes to the window. “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me, but I need to get back.”

  “Give us a name, and we’ll get word to him. He can fetch you in the morning.”

  “You don’t understand. I can’t.”

  Lucy sat down on the sofa next to Jessie. “What kind of trouble you in?”

  “The serious kind,” she answered. “I can’t stay here. They’ll come for me.”

  “Listen, the law here can help you.”

  Jessie shook her head. “Not with this, they can’t.” She paused. “Look, I’m grateful for everything you’ve done, and I promise I’ll repay your kindnesses, but I need to get back. Please.”

  Lucy nodded solemnly. “If you say so.” She stood up and returned with Jessie’s clothes, and deposited them on the sofa. “Your shoes aren’t dry, and neither is your coat, but I’ll get you a blanket. It’s not much, but it’s what we have.”

  On shaking legs, Jessie stood and moved behind a screen. Her clothes were warm and dry. Lucy had placed hot rocks in her shoes, and they were drier than Jessie had expected.

  As soon as Jessie came out from behind the screen, Lucy turned to a man standing beside her. “Jessie, this is my husband, Emmitt. He’ll take you into town.”

  Emmitt removed his hat and nodded. “Ma’am.” He had the air of a gentle man—easy smile, a relaxed face, and merry blue eyes, but Jessie knew he had to be tough. Pioneers always were.

  But he hadn’t been broken by years of war, and she thought of the boy Luke had once been. He’d never been like Emmitt.

  Oh, he’d smiled easily once, but he’d seen too much too early to be anything other than what he was. His upbringing hadn’t been gentle, and there had never been a time when despair hadn’t lurked in his eyes. Didn’t matter how happy he was in the moment—he had been a haunted boy who had turned into a haunted man.

  Emmitt tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “The horses are ready if you are. I’d take the wagon, but it would take me until tomorrow night to get back.”

  She turned to him. “Is there a cab-for-hire I could take into town?”

  “From here? Oh, heavens, no. They don’t come out this way very often. Besides, I pulled you from the marsh, and I’ll see you safe. Seems only right.” His voice was eager and boyish.

  “Don’t fret, Jessie.” Lucy patted her arm. “Go on, now.”

  “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done.”

  “Nonsense. We only did what was right.”

  Emmitt helped her onto the horse. “Come on, now, Miss Jessie. Time to get you home.” He kissed his wife on the cheek. “Don’t wait up for me, Lou.”

  “Take care of her, Em.”

  “I will.”

  “Take care of you, too.”

  “I always do.”

  And with those parting words, Emmitt and Jessie started back to Great Salt Lake City.

  * * * *

  She f
ell asleep twice on the way back. Sometime after the second time, Emmitt mounted the horse behind her and allowed her to sleep resting with her back against his chest.

  By the time they reached the charred remains of The Desert Belle, the moon was just beginning to set. Several uniformed constables milled around the site, probably to keep looters at bay, as the buildings nearby were now hollow shells. Jessie pointed the way to the Jameson house, her eyes never leaving the destruction she’d caused.

  What had once been a bakery, a butcher, and a tailor had been reduced to nothing.

  The streets were dark as they made their way to the big, yellow house with its wrap around front porch. Light sneaked out from under the heavy curtains, evidence that someone was still awake.

  Emmitt took her arm, guided her up the steps, and waited patiently for her to knock on the door.

  Only she didn’t.

  Jessie stood rooted in place, terrified of what she might find inside.

  “You gonna knock? I’m sure your man is waiting on you.”

  “Yeah.” They stood in silence as they both stared at the solid oak door with the big brass knocker.

  Emmitt squeezed her shoulder gently. “You know, if what happened to you had happened to my Lou, I’d want her back any way I could get her. Knock on the door.”

  Jessie frowned. “You’re a good man. She’s lucky to have you.” She knocked on the door.

  Within seconds, the door was flung open and Elizabeth stood in front of her. The other woman’s eyes were glassy with tears, and she stared at Jessie for a moment.

  “You’re back.” She pulled Jessie into an embrace so tight she almost squeezed the air right out of her lungs. She turned and shouted, “Luke!”

  Jessie heard him before she saw him, the shuffling of his feet, the heaviness as he limped toward the door.

  “What?” Luke asked. That single word was slowly spoken and bleak.

  Elizabeth stepped to the side as Luke came around the corner.

  Soot and ash clung to his hair and his clothes. His hands were clenched, his posture straight and stiff, as if he struggled to stand. In the glow of the gas lamps, his eyes were glassy, and black trails of soot streaked his cheeks.

  “Jess?” His entire body went still, and a muscle bulged in his jaw.

  “Luke.”

  He gestured to Emmitt with his fist. “Give him anything he wants, Duchess,” he said in a voice as jagged as broken arrows.

  “Anything? I think I might run that by Mordecai when he wakes up first.”

  Mordecai?

  “Anything.” Luke’s voice was so low she could barely hear him. When his eyes met hers, she was horrified by what stood in his eyes.

  Tears.

  “Luke?” she asked, her heart trembling and threatening to break. She stepped forward to touch him, but he flinched and pushed her hands away.

  The grip he had on her upper arms bordered on painful. “Don’t you ever do that to me again.” He shook her a little. “Do you understand me? Never again.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I don’t care about your sorry. Just promise me.” His eyes bored into Jessie like a pickax into rock. She would have sworn they left holes in her skin.

  “Never again.”

  She may have deserved the violence she saw in his eyes, but what she got was more punishment than even she deserved.

  Luke released his breath in a whoosh, and his face crumpled. Collapsing to his knees, he wrapped his arms around her waist, wrapped his hands in her skirts and pulled her to him. He pressed his face to her midsection and held her tight. He inhaled deeply and released it. Took another breath and held it for a moment before it was released in a gust.

  He had mourned her.

  Tears gathered in her eyes and began to fall, and she didn’t bother to stop them. She stroked his head.

  “We thought you were in The Desert Belle when it went up.” Elizabeth nodded to Luke. “He’s been there all day, and Jonah only now convinced him to return. It’s been… it’s been a bad day.”

  The floorboards creaked as Elizabeth showed Emmitt inside. Silence stretched between them.

  “Luke.” Her knees shook, and she wanted to sink to the ground with him, but Luke’s arms around her waist kept her upright. Emotion tightened her throat. “I’m so sorry.”

  He was silent, and that damned her all the more.

  Slowly, he unwound his fists from her skirt and rose to his feet.

  “Come inside.” His voice was gruff.

  She hesitated. “Luke?”

  “Don’t fight me. Just... Please.”

  Jessie followed him into the house and shut the door behind them. She heard Emmitt’s voice coming from the parlor, and she thought Luke would join them, but instead, he stalked down the dark hallway.

  “Luke?” she asked again.

  She deserved his angry words. She deserved it if he left her, after everything she’d done.

  He stopped, but didn’t turn to face her. “What?”

  His back was tight, and his shoulders shook. For a moment, she simply stood there, unsure what to do for a man obviously in so much pain.

  She rubbed his back. “I’m sorry.”

  “Told you. I don’t need your apology.”

  “Then what do you need?” She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her chest against his back.

  He turned. His eyes were wide and glassy, and his jaw was clenched. The hand he drew over his mouth trembled. “You. I need you.”

  Desire thrummed through her, so heady she felt drunk, wild and impulsive.

  Only Luke could make her feel this way.

  “I’m here,” she whispered.

  “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “Maybe I do.” Her hands itched to touch him, to tear his clothes off and hers and bring them both home. “Maybe I don’t care.”

  She was exhausted and she hurt, and Luke needed her as much as she needed him. Gentle or fierce, wild or cautious, she accepted him as he was.

  Mine.

  The thought brought her back to the night in the Shaeffer mine, when he’d shouted to her ancestors, This one is mine.

  If only she’d know then how true that statement was and had always been.

  His arm snaked around her waist. “Jessie,” he whispered.

  She threw herself at him.

  Luke locked his arms around her and leaned forward to open the door behind her. Before he’d even kicked it shut, he’d already begun pulling her skirt up. He fumbled with the laces of her drawers. Unable to undo the ties, he simply broke them, and they slid down her body.

  He lifted her in his arms and pulled her close, the heat of her body flush against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he pressed her against the wall.

  He was inside her before she even had the chance to think or react, his invasion swift. He stretched her and filled her as he pushed inside, deeper than she thought possible. Each thrust brought him farther from the edge he’d been in danger of going over, and closer to her, to the Heaven they found in one another’s arms and nowhere else. That place where they could forget everything standing in their way and just be, where it was Luke and Jessie and no one else. No violence, no war, no hell and no ancestors. Just the two of them, going into forever together.

  What she had in those few, precious moments was infinite.

  They reached their climaxes together, his body convulsing in rhythm with hers. He held her for a moment, his face buried in her neck, and he inhaled deeply. Stepping away, he hitched up his trousers and buttoned them, and reached out to touch her.

  “Jessie,” he began uncertainly.

  She noticed his hands as they touched her, and she gasped. They were black with soot, so maybe that was why she hadn’t noticed angry red blisters across his hands and his arms.

  Jessie took his hands in hers and turned them over. “Luke, your hands.”

  He pulled away, and again, distance crept into the short space betw
een them. “They’re fine. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Don’t shut me out. It is important.”

  “I thought you were dead.” He closed his eyes and stayed that way for a long time. “What happened to you?”

  The pain in his voice made her ache. She put her hands on his chest and felt the beating of his heart through his shirt. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  The answering kick of his heart was her answer.

  She undid the first few buttons, exposing his undershirt. Trailed her fingers down his neck.

  He leaned into her touch. “Did they… did he…”

  The despair in his voice hurt Jessie’s heart.

  “I’m fine and I’m here. That’s what matters.”

  “Did they hurt you?” His voice sounded strangled, as if he struggled just to force the words out.

  She understood the question beneath the question. “No. Just bumps and bruises.”

  He nodded, but she wasn’t entirely sure if he believed her. Leaning past her, he turned a knob, and water began pumping from a faucet attached to the ceiling.

  She’d heard these contraptions existed, but she’d never seen one for herself.

  Luke took off his shirt and his undershirt. Rubbed his chest as if it hurt. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The whole time you were gone, it was all I thought about. I couldn’t stand the thought of you alive, because I know what they’ll do to you to break you. I couldn’t stand the thought of you dead because I can’t… I can’t imagine a world without you in it.”

  He paused for a long time, staring at a place behind her head.

  He leaned forward and began unbuttoning her blouse. Careful hands pushed it from her shoulders, removed her skirt and petticoat. He unhooked her corset and pulled her chemise over her head, and tenderly, he removed the pins from her hair and unwound the bun she’d constructed before leaving Emmitt’s house.

  “If they’d broken you…” He toyed with her hair, and wound it around his fist.

  Jessie stepped in closer to him and pressed her breasts against his chest, offering him comfort in the only was she knew how.