It took Jesse's deep-throated chuckle to let her know he was joshing. “I was kind of hoping to get you home before that storm hits.” No sooner had he spoken than lightning streaked across the distant sky and his words were punctuated by a low growl of thunder. Beneath her, Anora felt Sully tense. The horse flattened back his ears.
“I know, old boy, I know.” Jesse reached around Anora to pat the animal comfortingly on the neck.
“I'd guess he doesn't like thunder,” Anora said.
“Can't say as how I blame him.”
The sky turned from leaden gray to black in a matter of seconds. Thunder drummed from farther afield, while the rain stayed behind. It seemed the heavens sprang a leak directly overhead to deluge her and Jesse with its contents. Sheet followed sheet of rain, soaking the two of them to the skin.
As suddenly as the rain hit, it receded, leaving scrub grasses bent flat from the torrent. The trees, bowed under the rainfall, continued to drip as regular as rain. Anora sneezed.
“God bless,” Jesse said, sounding as if he had something stuck in his throat.
Anora glanced at her cotton frock, molded to her body like skin, every curve outlined by the clingy wet fabric. She was aware of Jesse's harsh breathing directly behind her, the way his breath rasped past her ear and tickled the side of her neck. He held himself stiffly upright, as if trying not to brush against her. Likely he was as soaking wet as she was.
“Well, I've never seen a downpour like that one,” she said, the silence between them growing unbearably strained.
“Hmmph,” was his only response.
“Think the rail strike will be a long one?”
“Hard to say.”
“Expect those men will come back?”
“I doubt it.”
Anora blew out an impatient breath. “I'm trying to start a conversation here.”
“Why?”
“Why?” He had her there. Why indeed? Because she wanted to get to know Jesse Quantrill better? Learn what manner of man he was?
Bother that, she told herself firmly. It didn't matter what manner of man he was. It didn't matter to her one whit. Not so long as did his job, ensured the streets of Boulder Springs were safe for women and children.
“Do you have any kin back where you come from?” The question popped out before she could stop it, and she felt Jesse tense. Felt his momentary hesitation before he responded.
“I have a sister and a nephew. Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering. Like, I mean...you ever been married or anything?”
“I'm not the marrying kind,” Jesse said flatly.
“Oh.” What kind of man did that make him? Made him a man just like her father and all those drifting, fortune-seeking gamblers whose company her pa sought. The kind of man who knew better than to take a woman to wife, or have a family.
She was relieved when the Three Boulders was visible ahead. Somehow it felt as if she'd been on the longest ride of her life. As they reached the fallen- over posts that marked the rutted entrance to the ranch, she tugged on Jesse's sleeve.
“Could you just leave me off here? In case...you know.”
“You'd rather your husband didn't see me bring you home.”
“That's it,” Anora said. “Ben's kind of funny about some things.”
Jesse pulled Sully up short, dismounted, then reached up to lift Anora down. His hands closed around her waist with the heat of a branding iron, searing through her wet gown and underpinnings clear to her skin. Anora felt dizzy and rested her hands atop his shoulders for support. Time slowed to a standstill. It felt as if Jesse were lifting her down in slow motion. Her skin prickled in the most unusual places—the sensitive inner curve of her elbow, the back of her knee—while something else stirred deep in her belly.
Anora wasn't sure if it was deliberate or not, the way Jesse slowly dragged her down along his length.
It seemed to Anora that he deliberately pressed her against him, hipbone to hipbone, so she could feel his male hardness. But then he stepped back, leaving her to wonder if she hadn't perhaps imagined the entire incident. She still hadn't quite caught her breath by the time he'd remounted and headed back to town.
[Back to Table of Contents]
* * *
Chapter 7
Jesse stomped into his office like a man beset by demons. It had been one hell of a day. One hell of a day indeed. He still didn't know what had possessed him to pluck Anora up off the simmering street like some kind of fairy-tale knight in those books she read. He'd had his hands full with a riot waiting to happen. He didn't need his hands full of Anora, too, but that was exactly what he'd gotten. Boulder Springs was a small town and today he'd no doubt set every gossipy tongue to wagging but good. Still, at the sight of her jostled about, all small and defenseless, every one of his protective instincts had risen to the fore in a rush that left him as shaken up as Anora looked.
Damn, he planned to sweet talk his way into her confidence, not her bed. Or was that strictly true? He recalled the way she'd looked, the shimmery fabric of her wet gown clinging to every sweet-smelling inch of her. He'd been unable to resist rubbing up against her like some randy stud horse. And she hadn't exactly backed away, either.
She's a married woman, he reminded himself for what felt like the hundredth time in as many hours. Her no-good husband's linked in with Rosco and you're going to use that. Use Anora's trusting way to bust the whole pack of them. That's all.
The door burst open abruptly. Miss Spencer, the schoolmarm, her hat askew, breathing heavily, flung herself across the room toward him.
“Marshal, Marshal. Something terrible's happened to Anora King.”
Jesse felt his heart leap into his throat before he got a firm hold on himself. Hadn't he just seen Anora to the ranch himself? Taking a breath, he forced himself to speak calmly.
“What makes you say that, Miss Spencer?”
“She came by the schoolhouse hours ago, to tell me about the assemblage. She left to get you and bring you back, but she never showed up. There's no way she wouldn't have returned unless something awful happened.”
Something awful did happen, Jesse thought wryly. Anora had got herself plucked up off the street and carried away by him.
He rounded his desk and took Miss Spencer's arm in a firm grip. “I'm happy to report your friend is just fine. I saw her home safe myself.”
“You did?” The schoolteacher looked up at him with wide, admiring eyes, and Jesse dropped her arm like a stone. Wouldn't do to have some smitten maid dogging his every step here in Boulder Springs.
“I did indeed. And Mrs. King is mighty lucky to have a friend such as yourself concerned about her well-being. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got one pile of work to see to.”
“I'm so glad you're seeing after Nory.” The young woman folded herself onto a nearby bench. Obviously, she didn't intend on taking her leave just yet. “ ‘Cause that Ben King... I'm so afraid...”
“So afraid what, Miss Spencer?” Even as he ordered himself to mind his own business, Jesse hunkered down alongside her, their eyes on a level, and encouraged her to continue.
Miss Spencer passed him a troubled glance before staring at her hands, which she clenched and unclenched in her lap.
“Ben doesn't treat Anora the way a husband ought to treat his wife. Cherished-like.”
Jesse wondered what stories Miss Spencer had been reading in the schoolroom. Since when did a husband cherish a wife? None that Jesse knew. Course that doesn't give a man cause to mistreat a woman, either. Is that what she meant? Jesse felt his gut tighten. He couldn't abide men who hit their womenfolk. “Go on.”
“Anora's...” She sighed. “She's way too trusting for her own good. I hear things. Ben King losing his temper and the like. Drinking too much. One of these days he's going to lose his temper with Anora, and she'll have no idea how to defend herself. Why, she thinks Ben's harmless as a fly.” Miss Spencer slanted Jesse a serious look. “You and I, Marshal, we both know different.”
Didn't they just!
Jesse rose and assisted the schoolmarm to her feet. “I want to thank you, Miss Spencer, for taking the time to come by and talk frankly about your concerns.”
“Anytime, Marshal,” she said, batting her blue eyes in a way that told him all he had to do was crook his little finger and she was his.
“Good day to you, ma'am.”
Jesse closed the door behind her with an aggravated sigh. Damn, but womenfolk could surely be a pile of trouble a man didn't need. Miss Spencer was no doubt a well-intentioned schoolmarm. Too bad she had that desperate-old-maid look to her. A look he'd come to recognize more than a mile off.
Jesse returned to his desk but couldn't steer his mind to the work at hand, especially after Charlie and Eddy came back from seeing the Labor Knights on their way. Miss Spencer's words kept bashing about in his brain. One of these days Ben's going to lose his temper with Anora, and she'll have no idea how to defend herself.
As the strike continued, it appeared tempers everywhere were short and breaking. Jesse broke up more than the usual number of barroom brawls, locked away more than the usual number of surly drunks, had a talk with local ranchers, and still he couldn't stop thinking about Anora King. He hadn't seen her in town since the day of the riot. He also couldn't forget the schoolmarm's words. Just what was Ben King up to? Rosco's boys hadn't been seen anywhere nearby, either, another fact that concerned Jesse, bringing to mind as it did the calm before the storm.
He told himself it was part of his job to check up on Ben King, and Anora was merely the means to the end. At least that was the excuse he used to head on out to the Three Boulders. The fact that he brought along a dainty little pistol he'd once bought for Rose, who'd refused it, was incidental. After all, a lady in these parts ought to be able to defend herself, especially living out of town a spell the way Anora did. He was only doing his job, really. Especially if the situation arose where she needed to—
He was still down the road a piece from the Three Boulders when he heard the unexpected sound of a woman singing, the notes so pure and clear, it was hard to pinpoint their origin. Jesse stopped and cocked his head, noticing with some amusement that Sully did likewise.
The animal slanted Jesse a knowing look, then directed his attention to where a newly trampled path led through the brush edging the hard-packed dirt road. A ways through the brush Jesse spotted a flash of color amid the green, and shook his head ruefully. All alone out here and Anora hadn't even heard him coming. The old schoolmarm was right. Anora was far too trusting for her own good.
The song wasn't any Jesse'd heard before, and he suspected she might be making it up as she went along. Her singing was underscored by a rustle in the bushes. Seconds later Anora appeared. She caught sight of him and the song died in her throat.
Jesse dismounted and tipped his hat. “Don't let me interrupt. I was finding the concert right enjoyable.” As he replaced his Stetson, he allowed himself a leisurely perusal of the woman before him. Not barefoot this time, he was happy to note, but every bit as unconventionally dressed in what appeared to be a shirt of her husband's, red in color and ridiculously large on her slender frame despite the fact that she had folded the sleeves back. He grinned. As if the shirt weren't masculine enough, Anora was also wearing a pair of Ben King's britches. Jesse allowed himself the observation that the pants looked a hell of a lot better on her than on her old man. Perched jauntily atop her head was a battered felt hat. Her hair flowed loose about her shoulders and Jesse could see the rainbow hue of colors the sun spiked through the cinnamon strands.
Anora felt herself flush as Jesse's eyes took her measure, and unconsciously she straightened. Jesse Quantrill. She'd thought of him so many times these past days it was almost as if she had conjured him out of thin air. Except he looked real enough to her. Big and powerful and handsome in the sunlight.
And look at her. Last time he'd seen her she'd been half-drowned and nearly trampled in the riot. Today she should have known she was asking for trouble, scampering about in Ben's old clothes he'd outgrown. But her gowns were all wearing thin, and she didn't want to risk tearing them on the bushes as she filled her pail with wild huckleberries. Truth be told, Ben's old clothes were a damn sight more comfortable than her own. But if she'd had even an inkling Jesse would show up...
“I didn't know anybody was around.”
“Nobody was.” Jesse continued to smile at her in such a way that it was impossible not to smile back. Lord, the man could charm the birds down from the trees if he set his mind to it. When he stepped up to her and wrested the pail from her hand, she could smell his unique male scent, warm clean skin, leather, and something woodsy that she couldn't quite identify. Something that sent funny hot and cold tingles down inside her nether regions.
“Any word on the strike?”
“ ‘Fraid not.” He peered inside the pail. “Huckleberries.” He gave her another look that warmed her insides. “I bet you make a huckleberry pie every bit as good as your famous sandwiches.”
“Better,” Anora said thoughtfully. If Jesse hadn't brought her news, why was he here?
“It's been years since I tasted homemade huckleberry pie.”
He sounded so much like a little boy with his nose pressed to the candy store window that Anora found herself speaking before she thought about it. “I've got some at the house. Baked first thing this morning. Why don't you come up and I'll cut you a wedge?”
“I can't think of anything I'd like better.”
Immediately Anora regretted her impulsive offer. Sooner or later Jesse'd get suspicious that she didn't ask him inside the cabin. She liked it better when he stayed in town where he belonged.
Instead, he took her berry pail in one hand and Sully's reins in the other to fall into step beside her, shortening his stride to match hers as if he'd been doing it all his life. She wanted to ask him the reason for his visit, but every time she opened her mouth it seemed to shut again all by itself. Obviously the silence wasn't bothering him one whit.
Alongside Jesse, Anora grew newly conscious of many things. The warmth of the sun against her bare skin at the open vee of her shirt. The weight of her unbound hair as it brushed against the nape of her neck. The ripe, summer smell of the air. But better than all those things was the fact that she no longer felt lonely. The warmth of Jesse's presence was like the friendly hugs she exchanged with Lettie and Penny.
“Haven't seen you in town these past days,” Jesse said, as they started down the rutted drive to the shack.
Anora's heart slowed a beat, then speeded right up. Dare she think that meant he'd looked out for her? Missed her, even?
“I've been making a point of staying on the ranch,” she said slowly. “What with Ben being away and all.”
“Away for long, is he?”
“I don't rightly know. Besides, if I went into town Lettie'd put me to work in the store.”
“You got something against working in the store?” Jesse tethered Sully near a clump of sweet grass for the horse to graze on.
“I like it fine. It's just that Lettie doesn't really need my help. She's only being nice. Offering me something to do to keep busy.”
“Something wrong with folks treating you nice?”
Anora studied him seriously. It was a good question, and one she didn't have a ready answer for. She shrugged. “Where I come from, no one treated anyone else nice. I guess maybe I'm not used to it.”
“Hmmph,” Jesse said. “Back where I come from, it would be considered an insult to Lettie and your friendship not to take her up on her generosity.”
Anora pondered his words as they reached the stairs to the cabin. Obviously Jesse Quantrill had had a different upbringing from hers. “Why don't you make yourself comfortable on the porch?” she said. “I'll go get you that pie. Maybe I'll get changed first.”
“Don't you dare. Wearing those britches, you're the most fetching sight I've seen in a long time. I mean it.”
“Really?” Anora felt herself blushing at the compliment.
“Believe it. Folks in town catch sight of you dressed like that, why, you're bound to start a whole new style, instant-like.”
“Now I know you're funning me.”
“Anyway, britches are better for what I've got in mind.” As he spoke Jesse reached into his waistband and drew out a small silver-colored pistol.
Anora stared at the dainty firearm. “What's that gun for?”
Jesse snapped open the gun and loaded it. “I brought it for you.”
“For me? You know I can't shoot. You told me so yourself.”
“Something that's about to change. Let's go out in the field past the barn. I'll set up some targets for you to practice. What's the matter?”
Anora knew her disappointment must show on her face. “Ben won't like it,” she said flatly. “Him and Pa. I asked them both to teach me, but they wouldn't.”
“Folks make mistakes, Anora. Even folks who care about a body. Living out here the way you do, and you just said yourself your husband was away, well, you need to have some sort of protection. It's just plain foolish not to.”
Anora gazed from Jesse to the gun and back to Jesse, indecision sweeping through her. She valued her independence, true. But lessons drummed into her over the years were hard to let go.
“You know what I said about Lettie? Same goes here. It'd be a real insult if you turned down my offer.”
His words helped Anora make up her mind. Jesse was right. It was high time she knew how to shoot. Just too bad her own brother hadn't seen fit to teach her.
“What do we need?” She set her pail of berries on the stairs and turned to Jesse.
“Some empty tin cans or bottles would be good.”
“There's lots out in the barn. Ben—” She hoped Jesse hadn't noticed her slip, but he was watching her, waiting for her to continue.
“Ben—?” he repeated.
Ben lives on canned beans, she'd been about to say. But she didn't want Jesse to know she and Ben didn't eat together, much less live together.
“Ben stashes them out there,” she said breezily. “Lord only knows what for.”
Anora's Pride Page 7
