by Norah Hess
"Heavens no! I wouldn't want to see you doing that. I wish you'd forget everything I said. It came out all wrong."
He looked so repentant that Willow relented. "They're forgotten." She smiled at him. "We'll start all over. When will you be coming to the ranch?"
"Tomorrow morning," he answered eagerly. "And I hope you buy more produce from me than the other… housekeeper did," he laughingly joked. "About all she bought was tomatoes and hot peppers."
"I'll be taking some of everything you grow. Fresh vegetables are very important in a person's diet." Willow offered her hand to the young man. "My name is Willow Ames."
"I'm Thad Wilson." When he released her hand, he tacked on with a smile, "Bachelor." A fleeting dimple flashed in Willow's cheek as she said, "Maiden."
"Well," Thad said reluctantly, "I guess I'd better get this stuff inside."
"I guess you'd better. There's a man in there giving you impatient looks." Willow grinned at him, and then walked into the store. "Mornin', Miss," a balding, middle-aged man said with a genial smile. "I saw you ride in and recognized the team. Come from the Asher ranch, did you?"
"Yes, I did." Willow returned the friendly smile. "I'm the new housekeeper there, and"—she paused to take the grocery list from her vest pocket—"and I need to make quite a few purchases from you."
"Fine, fine. Jules ain't been doin' much business with me lately. Mostly beans and rice."
"I'm going to need more than that, Mr.—" Willow hesitated as she handed over the long list of provisions she needed.
"The name is Herbie Jackson," the pleasant, middle-aged grocer said.
Willow gave him her name; then, as the storekeeper began gathering and piling the items she needed on the counter, she wandered around the store, noticing that Herbie earned most things a rancher or his wife might want. She and Thad passed each other several times as he went back and forth to his wagon, carrying in bushels of produce. Each time they smiled at each other.
When Thad had brought in the last of his vegetables, Herbie paused in filling Willow's order to pay the young farmer for the half-dozen baskets of vegetables lined up to the right of the counter.
"You can go now," he said brusquely after handing over some bills. "I'll carry Miss Ames's groceries out to her wagon."
That he didn't like being dismissed so summarily showed in the darkening of Thad's brow. He had no excuse now to hang around the long-legged beauty.
"I'll see you tomorrow then, Miss Ames," he said, and left the store without a word to Herbie.
Were there bad feelings between the two men? Willow wondered. She tested the grocer by saying, "Mr. Wilson seems like a nice young man."
"Yes, he's very polite," Herbie said. Then he asked, "Do you want any of these vegetables for your supper?"
Willow knew he wasn't going to say any more about the young farmer, so she nodded that she did.
"I'd like some of those string beans, and some potatoes and half a dozen ears of sweet com. Just enough for tonight's supper."
When Herbie had totaled up what she owed, Willow told him to put it on the Asher tab. When that had been done, she helped him carry everything out to the wagon.
As the team backed the wagon out and Willow headed them out of town, she called back, "I'll probably see you next week, Mr. Jackson."
"Call me Herbie," he called after her, and then watched the wagon until it rolled out of sight.
"She's gonna stir up a bunch of trouble," he said with a grin. "Jules ain't gonna like it at all when men come courtin'. I wonder if he's still got that Nina out there at the ranch to soothe him ever once in a while. I'd bet my store the new housekeeper ain't gonna take care of his personal needs.
"Yep," he said as he walked back into the store, "things are gonna be real interestin' round here."
Chapter Five
As the buckboard bounced along, Willow found herself comparing Thad Wilson and Jules Asher.
The young farmer was open-faced, with no subterfuge in his clear blue eyes. There was nothing ruthless about him, unlike Jules. Yet the rancher's dangerous aura only added to his attractiveness.
Willow became aware that the team and wagon were beginning to cast long shadows, and she glanced up at the sun. It had traveled some distance westward and she cracked the whip over the backs of the horses. She had been gone from the ranch for almost three hours.
When the buckboard rattled into the barnyard, Jules came striding from the stables, his face dark with anger. "Do you realize you've been gone for over three hours?" he demanded before she pulled the team to a halt. "I was just getting ready to go look for you. What kept you so long?"
As Jules railed at her, his voice harsh, Willow thought of Thad and his slow, soft speech. She jumped to the ground and gave Jules a look that silenced him. Ignoring his anger and his question, she said coolly, "Have one of your men bring the supplies to the house, will you?"
Silenced, Jules watched her walk away, her boot heels kicking up little puffs of dust. No matter how good his intentions, he always ended up making her angry with him.
He hurried after her, catching up to her a short distance from the hacienda. "Look, Willow," he said, walking alongside her, "I know I spoke harshly to you back there, but I've been worried that something might have happened to you. I was afraid you ran into some renegade Indians, or even rustlers. We haven't had any trouble with either for over a year, but nevertheless, I should have had someone accompany you."
They had reached the portico by the time Jules finished explaining himself Willow paused at the covered archway. Looking up at him, she saw concern for her in his eyes. Surprisingly, he had been worried about her.
"I admit that I could have been home sooner," she said. "I spent too much time in the store talking to Herbie, and I dawdled on my return."
She had spoken in softer tones and Jules heaved a silent breath of relief Maybe he hadn't lost too much ground after all. "I daydream once in a while too," he said. The laughter lines around his eyes deepened.
That was highly unlikely, Willow thought, but all she said was, "I'll take someone with me the nest time I go to town." She slapped the pocket of her riding skirt. "I do carry a gun, you know."
Amusement glittered in Jules's eyes. "Do you know how to use it?"
"I certainly do," Willow answered, remembering the secret hours Smitty had spent teaching her and her mother how to draw and shoot straight. They had never perfected the fast draw, but if their target was close enough, they would hit it every time. Smitty had declared that if ever they had to defend themselves against animal or man, they could hit the heart dead center.
"I bet you do," Jules said with a grin. Then he added jokingly, "I'd better watch my step around you."
"That's right," Willow answered, but she didn't smile as she walked into the portico, leaving Jules with a puzzled look on his face.
Had she just given him a warning? he wondered with a frown.
"Jules was gettin' quite concerned about you, Willow," Jess said when Willow walked into the kitchen. "I never saw him so worked up before."
"I know. I saw him when I came in. I'm not to go to Coyote alone anymore."
"That's not a bad idea. Did you buy everything you wanted?"
"Yes." Willow's teeth flashed in a pleased smile. "For supper tonight we're going to have fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, com on the cob and string beans. For dessert we'll have apple pie. How's that sound?"
"It sounds so good that the way my mouth is waterin', my teeth are gonna wash out onto the table. All eight of them." After they had laughed at Jess's sally, the old lady became sober-faced and asked, "You didn't forget my pipe tobacco, did you?"
"Nope, I didn't. It was the first thing I bought."
"You're a good girl, Willow Ames," Jess said softly. "Unlike Nina, who always called my pipe a smelly old thing and said she was going to throw it into the fireplace the first time she could get her hands on it. You ain't said a word against it."
"I k
inda like the smell of it. Smitty smokes a pipe."
"I know. Smitty is a fine man."
Willow hid her look of amusement from the old lady. Clearly, if a man smoked a pipe, he was all right in Jess's opinion. "I'm going to change clothes now, then come back and start on the pies," she said before Jess could continue talking about Smitty. "Someone will be bringing in the supplies pretty soon. Will you show him where to put everything?"
When Willow returned to the kitchen after having changed into a blue gingham dress, cut low across her breasts and showing just a hint of cleavage, she found that it was Jules who had driven the team up to the house and was in the process of unloading the wagon. Jess sat putting on her pipe as she watched him put the things away.
As Willow tied an apron around her narrow waist, Jules looked up from storing some staples in a bottom cupboard and asked, "What are we having for supper?"
With a straight face, Willow answered, "I'm making hot tamales and burritos."
When Jules didn't say anything, only groaned, Jess said with a wink at Willow, "I hope you don't use as much hot pepper as Nina does."
"You'll like them fine, Aunt Jess. An old Mexican woman taught me how to make them." Jules seesawed back and forth, wanting to tell Willow to please make something else, but he was afraid of riling her.
Willow could have sworn that his shoulders sagged a little when he left the kitchen to drive the wagon back to the barn. Her laughter pealed out, and Jess's high cackle joined it.
The spicy aroma of flaky-crusted pies filled the kitchen an hour later as Willow lifted them from the oven and placed them on the window ledge to cool. She turned her hand then to cutting up the dressed chicken she had bought from Herbie. When she had dredged the pieces with flour she dropped them into a waiting skillet of hot grease to brown on all sides before placing a lid on them.
Jess was peeling the potatoes, so she began shucking the cobs of tender com. As she carefully picked the com silk from between the rows of kernels, she wondered what her mother was making for supper. There was the possibility that she wouldn't be cooking tonight. If Smitty was back, he would bring her a plate of what he had prepared for the cowhands. Pa seldom ate at home.
An hour later the table in the kitchen was set with china and flatware. When Willow heard the tinkling sound of Jules's spurs on the tiles of the kitchen patio, she began dishing up the hot food.
When Jules had washed up outside and stepped into the kitchen, the expression that came over his face made both women laugh. "So," he said, laughing with them, "you played a little trick on me, I see."
"I just couldn't resist." Willow said. "Aunt Jess had mentioned that both of you were tired of spicy food, so…"
The way Jules ate his supper, asking for seconds, pleased Willow more than she wanted it to. She asked herself why she should care one way or the other whether he liked what she put on the table. And she was annoyed with herself for blushing when he complimented her on supper, saying that her fried chicken was the best he'd ever eaten.
When Jules had walked through the kitchen door and out onto the small patio, Willow darted a look at Jess. Had the sharp-eyed old woman seen her heightened color? It appeared that she hadn't, since she was busy tamping tobacco into her pipe. Aunt Jess was very much against her nephew's involvement with Nina, and Willow didn't want her thinking that the new housekeeper had her eyes on her nephew. She felt that Jess liked her, and she wanted to keep it that way. She liked this job and didn't want to lose it. She needed it if her plan to bring her mother to Texas was to be successful.
The next morning when Willow, Jess and Jules were finishing a breakfast of ham and eggs and hot biscuits, Jules looked out the window at the sound of wagon wheels. "It's the sodbuster," he said. "Isn't he a little early, Aunt Jess?"
"Yes, he is, by a couple hours." She looked at Willow. "Do you know what you want from him?"
"Pretty much." Willow stood up, ready to go outside and look over what Thad had brought. "You don't have to go." Jules stood up also. "Tell me what you want and I'll get it."
"Don't be ridiculous." Willow laughed. "You'd probably pick up the first thing you saw."
"Well, what would you do?"
"First I'd test everything for freshness, color and tenderness," Willow answered as she went through the door, Jules at her heels.
"Good morning, Thad," she said, smiling at the young farmer as he jumped from the wagon to the ground. "I hope you have brought some of that delicious com that I bought from Herbie yesterday."
Thad nodded a good morning to Jules, and when the rancher ignored him, he turned back to Willow. "I sure did, and other things too." He jumped up on the wagon bed and held his hand down to help Willow up beside him. "Look things over." He gestured to the different bushels of tomatoes, com, string beans, green onions and an assortment of greens. To one side, in a small basket, were eggs and a crock that held butter.
"My mom churned it fresh this morning," Thad explained to Willow. "And the milk is fresh also." He gestured to a canvas-covered gallon jar. Jules, his face growing darker by the minute, leaned against one side of the patio arch watching Willow and the handsome farmer as they talked and laughed while Willow examined and chose the items she wanted.
Jess, looking out the kitchen window, was afraid of what her nephew might do when Willow and Thad continued to talk in low tones even after she'd made her purchases. Jess couldn't understand what they were saying to each other, and the way Jules had cocked his head to listen, she didn't think he could either, which was probably making him all the more angry.
When his eyes narrowed to slits, she thought to herself, "It looks like my nephew has finally met a woman who will take away his bachelor days. But my, how he will fight it. He'll be worse than a yearling bein' dragged to a branding fire."
Finally Jules could take no more. He strode over to the wagon, and as he hefted a basket of vegetables, he growled to Willow, "Are you going to lollygag all day? I'm sure you have work to do in the house." When she shot him an angry look, he knew too late that he had said the wrong thing to her. Would he never learn to curb his tongue where she was concerned?
And though he knew he had stepped out of line with Willow, he continued with his reckless words when she followed him into the kitchen. "You had an awful lot to say to the sodbuster. Don't let his good looks make a fool out of you."
"The way you did just now?" Willow snapped.
"I don't see it that way, and I want you to get one thing straight. I'm not going to have a bunch of men hanging around the house, chasing after you."
Hot, angry tears smarted Willow's eyes. How she hated this arrogant, low-minded man. If only she felt free to slap his hateful face, to scratch the sneer off his lips. But she must take his insults if she was to help her mother.
She wheeled and stamped out of the kitchen.
When her bedroom door slammed shut, Jess looked at Jules, shaking her head. "What's gotten into you, nephew? You can't treat Willow like she's a bonded slave. She's a grown woman who can talk with young men if she likes. If you keep it up you're gonna lose the best cook and housekeeper you can ever expect to find. If she leaves because of your insults, and you bring Nina back as our housekeeper, I'll leave with the girl."
She gave Jules a thoughtful look and then asked sharply, "Is that what you have in mind, Jules? Do you want that whore back in the house?"
"That's a ridiculous question and you know it." Jules raked his fingers through his hair. "I don't know why I railed at Willow. Maybe it's because I don't trust that romeo farmer. I'd hate to see her taken in by his handsome looks, his soft words and ready smile."
"Willow has been fooled by a man once. She'll know if Thad Wilson is not to be trusted." After a short pause Jess said, "I think what's bothering you is that you're jealous. Deep down you want Willow for yourself, and you're fightin' against it."
"Hah!" Jules snorted a laugh. "You mean marry her, tie myself to one woman? That will never happen. My freedom is too important
to me." Jess drew impatiently on her pipe. "Your freedom is gonna be poor company when you're an old man with no wife and no children or grandchildren to lighten your days. You remember me saying this when you're old and sittin' alone in front of your fire."
The old lady stood up and left Jules sitting at the table. He jumped slightly when the second door slammed shut. I've got both women angry with me now, he thought grimly, and took off for the stables. There he would find release for the emotions roiling inside him by working at breaking in a big bay stallion he had captured the week before.
Capturing and breaking bangtails to the saddle had started out as a kind of hobby for Jules. It had an excitement that cattle didn't bring to a man. Then word came that Montana and Wyoming were in need of the hardy and durable mustangs that made ideal mounts for cowboys. Properly trained, they made perfect cutting horses.
Also, droves of burros were being exported to the mines in Colorado. He hadn't tried his hand at rounding them up though. "Let the teenagers have fun doing that," he had remarked.
When he entered the corral, lasso in hand, Jules stood a moment, waiting for the right time, and then, swinging the rope gracefully over his head, he dropped the noose around the neck of the handsome bay.
The instant the stallion felt its touch, he lowered his head, trying to shake it off, but Jules had anticipated the movement and gently tightened the rope. With a snort of defiance, the animal settled back on his haunches, pitting his strength against his captor's. With patience and comparative ease, Jules got the horse over to the corral gate, opened it, and then vaulted lightly upon the bay's back.
The moment he felt Jules's weight the stallion uttered a scream of rage, and raised himself upright on his hind legs, trying to shake the weight off his back. He stood still for a moment, then dashed furiously out over the plains. Jules didn't try to hold him back, but let him run until he finally stopped, his head hanging low. An hour later he trotted back to the stables quietly, as though he had been used to having a rider on his back all his life.
