Chapter 5
A few minutes later, Jessica opened her door in response to a knock to see a small, gray-haired woman holding a pail of steaming water. She quickly reached to take the pail and received a grateful look from the woman's tired eyes as she rubbed her back.
Glancing over the woman's shoulder, Jessica saw a much younger, blond-haired woman with two more pails of water. A shy smile lit the blonde's face when she met Jessica's gaze.
"Hello," the blonde said. "I'm Eloise. We've brought your bath." Before Jessica could respond, Eloise lowered her head and walked into the room.
Jessica followed as Eloise crossed the room, dumping her own pail into an enamel tub behind a dressing screen. As soon as they set their pails down, the gray-haired woman reached across the tub and turned on a water tap.
"Don't know why Mr. Baker don't get running hot water in here, too," she said as she stood and again placed her hands in the small of her back. "Heard they've got it practically everywhere now."
"Why, yes, they do," Jessica agreed. "When I asked the clerk for baths, I didn't dream water would have to be carried up here. I just thought the extra charge would be for a room with my own bath. Heavens, we've had hot running water in my ranch house back home for ages."
The older woman perused Jessica up and down. "Knew you weren't from around here," she said with an emphatic nod. "Wouldn't of been a man in town not talking 'bout you if you'd been here long."
Jessica laughed and ducked her head to hide her blush. She saw the other woman's hand extended in greeting and quickly raised her face as she accepted it.
"I'm Jessica Callaghan," she said as the woman clasped her hand in a firm grip. "From over in Wyoming. This is the first time I've been to Baker's Valley."
"Veronica Smith," the woman returned. "Most folks call me Ronnie. Quite a tomboy I was in my younger days. And it's good to see another young person around here, though you ain't missed much by not coming to Baker's Valley before. Even Eloise is leaving, soon as she and her young man tie the knot."
"Oh, you're engaged?" Jessica asked, looking over at Eloise, who was fingering the blue dress laid on Jessica's bed. "How wonderful."
Eloise looked up from the dress with a smile that transformed her features. Her blue eyes sparkled as she replied, "It took me long enough to get him to ask me. We courted for over three years."
"Men," Jessica said with a conspiratorial wink. "Why is it we have such a time getting them to see what's best in their lives?"
The three women shook their heads and giggled.
"You're not planning to live in town?" Jessica asked Eloise.
"No," she returned in a somewhat hard voice. "I don't fancy raising my children here. But I hope to come back to visit Ronnie now and then."
"You know, I really don't blame you. Ned and I were discussing what an unhappy atmosphere we found in this town," Jessica stated.
"It's an unhappy town, Mrs. Callaghan," Ronnie replied. "But there's not much any of us can do about it."
"It's Miss Callaghan," Jessica said. "But I wish you'd call me Jessica. Or Jes. Seems like I got a tomboy nickname tacked onto me, too."
"Didn't figure either of those men could've been the husband of a young thing like you," Ronnie said. "And Buster did say you rented separate rooms. But you never know these days. A woman needs a man around to look after her, and many's the young one who's hooked up with an older man for protection."
"Ned's the foreman of my ranch back in Wyoming," Jessica admitted. "But he's also like a second father to me and he's a very dear friend. Jedidiah's...uh...our guide."
Jessica noticed a flicker of pain cross Ronnie's face when she started to bend down and reach across the tub for the water tap.
"Here. I'll do that."
"Thank you, Jes," Ronnie said. "And we'll be back in a few minutes with a couple more pails of water to heat this up a little more."
"Oh, please don't bother. I've been bathing in cold streams since we left Wyoming, and even a warm bath will be a treat."
"No such thing," Eloise denied. "We women appreciate little things like a steaming bath. You should have seen Tobias's face when I told him that since there was absolutely no way we could have hot running water, I needed a new stove. One with a huge water reservoir on the side." She laughed softly. "He almost had a stroke, trying to figure out how to get that monstrosity out to the cabin. Said he had to put stronger springs on the wagon and use a double team."
When the women's laughter abated, Eloise continued, "But, if you don't mind, I'll just knock and leave the water outside your door this time. Ronnie has to make sure the cook's getting the evening meal ready and I've got to set the tables. Mr. Baker won't be any too happy if he comes to supper tonight and finds something out of place."
"Mr. Baker pretty much runs this town, doesn't he?" Jessica asked.
"That he does, Miss," Ronnie agreed as a tight look came over her face. "That he does."
Before Jessica could question her further, Ronnie hastily picked up the empty pails and Eloise draped the dress over her arm. Nodding briefly to Jessica, they crossed the room and closed the door behind them.
Jessica pondered Ronnie's words while she waited for the knock on the door telling her more hot water waited for her. Wonder what she meant by no one being able to change the town's atmosphere, she asked herself. But she never got the chance to ask the question of Eloise. By the time she crossed the room and opened the door after hearing two taps, she could only see Eloise's retreating back hurrying down the hallway.
"Well, that didn't take long."
Jessica stood outside the bank door that afternoon and watched Ned walk away from her. She had to be satisfied with the teller's assurance that he would pass the needed information on to the illustrious Mr. Baker, since he didn't seem to be available just now. She would, indeed, have to check back in the morning to conclude her transaction.
Ned could have at least asked her if she wanted to accompany him while he toured the town, instead of leaving her at loose ends until supper that evening. Then she noticed his steps quicken as he neared a set of batwing doors on the edge of the saloon district of town and smiled to herself. He didn't indulge his secret passion for a nip or two very often, and he definitely wouldn't have been comfortable with her witnessing him — even if they would have let her into the saloon.
What could she do to kill the intervening time until Ned met her for their evening meal? She had absolutely no desire to spend that long cooped up in the small, but clean, room at the hotel. The thin walls didn't keep out much sound, and she had listened to Jedidiah's snores the entire time she bathed. Glancing across the street, her eyes fell on the general store.
Her hand crept into her skirt pocket and she hefted the small coin purse nestled there, mentally counting the contents. She had been pretty hard on her men, even if they did deserve it. They probably had managed to shoot a couple of the abundant jack rabbits to go along with their beans and biscuits for supper, but a small treat for them might be in order.
She had noticed some canned peaches on the shelf at the store. Two or three cans shouldn't deplete her resources that much, especially when she thought of her men's scant fare while she and Ned dined in the hotel that evening.
Less than ten minutes later, Jessica hung up her blue gown and changed into a clean set of riding clothes. Jedidiah's snores no longer penetrated the solitude of her room and she smiled grimly to herself. Perhaps he had gone about the business he insisted he had to do. It was just as well — she didn't want to tell him he hadn't really been hired when her anger still flared freshly each time she thought of him.
When she picked up the sack on the bed, the cans clinked together, reminding her of her mission. She shoved the note she meant to leave at the desk for Ned into her pocket as she crossed the room.
As she rode by the large house on the fringe of the town a few moments later, Jessica gazed at it curiously. It surely could house several people, but no activity met her eyes
. Drawn shutters even hid the windows.
Jessica noticed a small, wooden sign hung on chains over the porch, swaying in the afternoon breeze. She squinted her eyes in an attempt to read the ornately carved letters.
"Idalee's."
The storekeeper had said something about a place with that name. Perhaps it was a boarding house and they could have gotten rooms cheaper there. No matter now. They would be on their way again tomorrow, with or without Cinnabar. She reined her horse left just past the house.
At least she had allowed Ned to put the bundle carrying her clothes on the second pack horse at the beginning of their journey. Nothing in the saddlebags Cinnabar carried couldn't be replaced. She had to believe the stallion would find his way back to her again. She couldn't lose him, too, so soon after her father and Uncle Pete's deaths.
A picture of her gentle father swam in Jessica's mind, quickly replaced by the vision of her hours' long vigil by the ice-covered window over two years ago.
And Uncle Pete. Funny how close to the forefront of her mind he had been ever since Ned called that old man, Jedidiah, a mountain man. Her memories of Pete's death were fresher — only a few months old.
Though she had always lovingly called him uncle, she had realized during the night she sat with him for the last time that there was no blood relationship between the two men. Pete Russell and her father had been closer than any brothers, though. Some of her first memories were of crawling onto Pete's knee for a horsy ride, while Foster and Pete spent a lazy evening discussing ranch plans.
And her father had once explained in answer to her questions that he and Pete had started the ranch together. After a few years, though, Daddy said, Pete couldn't withstand the pull of the mountains any longer. A time or two she had wondered what catastrophe in Pete's life had ever made him think he could stand being tied to ranching life. Especially in the fall, when Pete loaded up his pack mule and set out once again.
He always returned, however. Once in a while at Christmas time — most assuredly every summer, when he exchanged his buckskins for denims and helped around the ranch. When he rolled his bedroll out beside Jessica's during roundup and they talked far into the star-sprinkled night — Jessica pouring out her childhood and teen dreams into Pete's willingly listening ears — things she would have hesitated telling even her father or Mattie.
Jessica had always thought of Pete as a very precious part of her family. And now, he had left her a legacy that would save her ranch. Gold she had at first sworn never to touch.
I have to touch it now, Jessica thought as she brought her mind back to the present and urged the gelding over a rocky, washed out portion of the trail she followed. She didn't have any choice after the spring blizzard wiped out her calves. Her only other option, after the banker refused her request for an extension on her mortgage, was to accept Ned's offer of a loan. She wouldn't jeopardize his and Mattie's retirement money.
Half way across the area, the horse stumbled, then stopped with its foreleg raised. Not noticing, Jessica kneed the horse forward again, then pulled back on the reins when she felt him limp.
"Oh no," she said aloud as she slid from the horse's back. "You've picked up a stone. I hope it's not embedded too deeply."
She looped the reins over her arms and reached for the horse's foreleg. Before she could get it securely into her grasp, she heard the warning rattle behind her and froze.
The horse heard the snake, too. He neighed shrilly and tossed his head, entangling the reins for a second around Jessica's arm, then sending her sprawling as he pulled free and leaped across the rocky ground out of danger.
She didn't see the snake strike, but she felt its head graze the sleeve of her blouse. When she could focus again after her hard contact with the ground, she saw it recoiling its huge length, and a second later a pair of cold eyes transfixed her. The snake's tongue flickered in and out between a set of deadly fangs, still dripping a drop of venom from the missed strike.
A snake that huge would have plenty of venom left for another strike, though. And Jessica's eyes widened in horror as she realized it would launch this one at her face — the same place the snake had struck her mother nineteen years ago!
Chapter 6
"Don't move. For God's sake, don't move," a voice whispered clearly.
She gulped, but couldn't force a word from her terror clogged throat. She couldn't have moved if she wanted to, despite knowing that in a split second the snake would launch itself again.
Flat eyes pinned her in place as the snake drew back its head. A soft whoosh whispered past her and the snake's head fell harmlessly to the ground, leaving the severed coils of the body twisting frantically before her eyes. A knife quivered in the dirt behind the thrashing coils.
She found her voice. The scream echoed for only an instant after she scrambled to her feet. A large hand covered her mouth and an arm captured her around the waist. Still terrified, she dug at the fingers covering her mouth, her chest heaving furiously with repressed screams.
"You're safe now," the voice behind her soothed. The arm around her waist snugged her closer. "I'll let you go, if think you can get yourself under control."
The stern words, spoken close to her ear, were accompanied by a fan of breath across her cheek. Jessica gulped once again and her fear eased somewhat. Slowly she nodded compliance against the restraining hand and the hand fell from her mouth, lingering near in case her hysterics burst free again.
The arm around her waist loosened and Jessica willed her legs to stop trembling. But when her eyes fell on the still writhing body of the snake, she felt a violent urge to shut it out of sight. Instinctively she turned and buried her face against the male chest behind her, flinging her arms around his waist and clinging for all she was worth.
The muscular arms tightened comfortingly about her and a cheek nestled against her head. She took another gulping breath in an attempt to calm herself, and breathed in a vaguely familiar scent. She couldn't quite place it as she struggled to chase the last lingering vestiges of fear from her mind.
"M...my mother," she said around a sob in her throat. "A snake killed her. It...it bit her in the f...face."
"Oh, lord," the voice said. A hand came up and stroked her hair. "You didn't see it happen?"
"N...no." Jessica shook her head against his chest. "I...was only a baby. I don't even remember her — just pictures. But I asked Daddy. We used to talk about her, and now he's gone, too."
The stroking hand in her hair stilled for a second, then continued its soothing motion. Her words explained a lot to him. She evidently didn't have anyone to protect her — to tell her how foolish some of her actions were. How she had no business wandering around by herself, putting herself in danger. Even that old man with her back in town hadn't been able to keep her from flying into that drunk from the Lazy B.
"Oh, pretty lady, what am I going to do with you?"
Recognition coursed through Jessica. Only one person had ever called her that. She withdrew her arms and pushed against the firm chest, but the man cupped the back of her head and kept her face firmly in place.
"Don't, pretty lady," the man growled. "You'll be better off if you don't see my face."
"Let me go," Jessica said in a muffled voice. "You won't be able to leave here without me seeing you, and I want to thank you. Besides, I know you're the same person I saw last night."
The fingers tightened in her hair for a second before the large chest under her cheek heaved with a sigh. He couldn't believe how much he really did want her to see him. His hold on her loosened, and she turned her face up to him when he stepped back.
The sunlight fell clearly on his face this time, and Jessica studied his features. She had been right. The eyes were dark ebony and the hair almost the same color, only darker still, if that were possible. He could have used a haircut, but for some reason the length of the raven locks didn't offend her. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the full lips, then she blushed and dropped her gaze as she
recalled the pleasure they had sent through her.
"It...it is you," she whispered.
"Uh huh."
Though he still felt a stir of pity for the somewhat bedraggled figure in front of him, he had to knock some sense into her stubborn head. He wouldn't always be around to pull her cute little behind out of danger. Steeling himself, he managed to put a measure of exasperation into his voice.
"And you're the little fool who hasn't got enough sense to know it's dangerous for a woman to wander around alone. I've got better things to do with my time than rescue you from your foolishness. What the hell are you doing out here by yourself again?"
Jessica's eyes flew back to his face and the flush on her face darkened as her temper flared.
"I can ride and shoot as well as any damned man!" she spat at him. "And it's none of your blasted business what I do. You've got no right to call me names or question my actions!"
"Well, someone should," he fired back. "Where the hell's your gun, if you're so blasted good with it?"
"It's on the horse," Jessica had to admit to him. "And you know what happened to my derringer. But my men are within shouting distance."
"It would have to be a loud shout," the man growled. "I saw them camped by the stream and it's a good mile from here. If that snake had gotten you in the face like it tried to, you'd have been dead long before you got to them. Even if you had been able to catch that horse in time."
Jessica glanced behind her and the snake's still slightly trembling body sent another pang of fear through her. She hated snakes. She had tried for years to overcome her fear, since she encountered them almost everywhere in the summer. She had learned to be cautious whenever she rode around the sun-warmed rocks where they liked to lie, but every once in a while one would surprise her. Like today.
"I'm sorry," she found herself apologizing. "If I'd had Cinnabar, he wouldn't have bolted. He would have trampled that snake to death."
Montana Surrender Page 6
