Jeremy straightened in mock horror. “Hey, you crazy? He gets plenty mad at me as it is.”
She tried to force a grin. “Only when you pull some stupid stunt.” Her lips trembled and her eyes stung with unshed tears. She couldn’t stand being at odds with any of her brothers, especially James, yet there was no way she could back down. “He’s never been this mad at me before,” she whispered, staring off after James into the dark interior of the barn.
Jeremy ruffled her curls and led the way into the house. “What’d ya expect, Jess? You defied him and involved him—us—in a lie.”
At her moan of anguish, Jeremy took pity on her. “Aw, come on, sis. He’ll get over it. He’s just worried, you know. Wolf ain’t gonna like it when he finds out he’s been duped.”
At the mention of the wagon master’s name, Jessica stopped short of the kitchen. This bad air between her and James was all his fault. “If it hadn’t been for his stupid rule against women, none of this would have happened,” she snapped.
“That’s beside the point,” Jeremy said. “Don’t worry. James’ll come around soon enough. Now, come on, we’ve got lots to do before sunset.”
Jessie shook her head. “I’m going to talk to James first.” She stalked out of the house, determined to clear the air between them. When she reached the open doorway of the barn, she paused to inhale the familiar odors of oiled leather, sweet hay and horseflesh. James sat on the ground, sorting through farming implements. He’d set aside several hammers, a chopping ax, broadax, froe, auger and plane in one neat pile on the hay-strewn ground. Those items would go with them to Oregon.
She watched him untangle an old length of rope. After what seemed like hours, he turned and acknowledged her presence. Deep grooves of displeasure were etched across his forehead. Jessie swallowed past the lump in her throat. She’d never meant to hurt him or put him in an awkward position. Honor was important to James, and she’d compromised it. She sighed. He took everything so seriously. Being left in charge of three siblings while still a boy himself had matured him early. But that didn’t mean he was always right. Moisture gathered in the inner corners of her eyes. “Please don’t be angry, James,” she begged. She wanted her loving brother back, the one who’d nursed her through her childhood illnesses and comforted her through the nightmares brought on by the fear of being taken from her brothers.
It had fallen to James to wash and bandage her skinned knees and apply the paddle when she’d deserved it, though he’d never hurt her. In fact, she recalled fondly, those lessons in discipline had bothered him more than her. But when James turned his back on her and added the neatly coiled rope and a length of chain to the growing pile, another stab of pain went through her. Never could she recall him staying mad overnight at her—not until now. Defeated, she brushed the tears from her cheeks and turned away. Her feet dragged with each step as she went to the wooden pen where she’d slung her saddlebags.
Retrieving the brown paper-wrapped packet she’d purchased in town nearly a week ago, Jessie returned to James. “Happy birthday, James,” she whispered, handing him his gift. She walked away, tears streaming down her cheeks. His voice stopped her.
“Shouldn’t have done what you did, Jess.”
Jessie stopped in the open barn door. A sob of relief escaped. She turned and retraced her steps slowly. “You should’ve told me that Jordan was going to ask Coralie to marry him. Do you have any idea how I felt knowing that she was going but not me?”
James stood and stared up into the wooden beams crisscrossing above him. After several long seconds, he turned and gripped her shoulders with his large, callused hands. “You’re right, Jess; I’m sorry. We should’ve told you—but we knew how you’d react.” His lips tilted up into a wry grin. “Though I could never have foreseen this.”
He grew serious. “Now, will you please reconsider this mad scheme—for me? We can go to Wolf together and tell him the truth. There’s still time to convince him that you should go with us. If he refuses, you can come out with the Smiths like I arranged. We won’t be separated long. A few months at the most.”
Jessie shook her head sadly. “Oh, James, how can you promise that? Can you swear on our parents’ graves that nothing will happen to you or the others?”
James sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen, Jess, even if you go with us, there’s no guarantee that nothing will happen to one of us.”
“But I’d know,” Jessie replied simply. “Don’t you see? It’s the not knowing I couldn’t live with. Remember Fritz and Else Fabricus?”
James sighed, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Fritz, their nearest neighbor, had left three years ago with his two eldest sons. He’d planned to return for Else and their three daughters after he’d built their dream house. That was three years ago. No one knew what had happened to him. They stared at one another for long moments. Jessie ran her hands down the front of her torn and dirty jeans. “You can’t promise that, James. No one can. Rook was right when he said I’d know if I was meant to go. This is meant to be.” An impish grin tugged at the corner of her lips. “Besides, we did try to tell him the truth.”
James ducked his head, but not before Jessie saw his lips twitch, and in that moment she knew he’d forgiven her. “It’ll work, James. I know it will.”
“I sure wish you’d never met that old man,” James grumbled.
Then he lifted his worried gaze to her. “I hate to think what will happen when Wolf finds out. And Jess, he will find out that you’re my sister and that we’ve lied to him.” He sighed and pulled Jessie into his arms. “But I guess we’ll face the consequences together.”
Jessie wrapped her arms around his neck and clutched him tightly.
He stepped back and cuffed her gently. “You’re forgiven, brat,” he said gruffly.
Poking her hands into the back pockets of her pants, Jessie smiled, happy that he wasn’t mad anymore. “Thanks, James. I promise I’ll work real hard.”
The sound of ripping paper filled the air as James unwrapped his gift. The brown paper fell away to reveal a brand-new pair of leather work gloves. “Do you like them, James? I bought them with the money I earned selling Mr. Baker eggs and extra jars of preserves.”
“They’re great, Jessie. Sure needed a new pair. These will come in right handy during the trip.” He reached out to ruffle her hair. “Off with you,” he ordered, his voice low and gruff. “We’ve got to be at the Bakers’ by suppertime.”
Orvil Baker glanced at the young couple heading up the stairs to the living quarters above the store. Jordan and Coralie had just returned from a stroll around town. He knew his daughter was showing off her new husband. It was hard for him to believe his little girl was a married woman of two days. How he wished her mother had been alive to see this day.
“Father, are you going to join us for tea?”
Glancing from Coralie’s beaming features to Jordan’s handsome sternness, he prayed that the two kids would be happy. He knew he spoiled his only daughter, but if anyone could handle her, it was Jordan. In answer to Coralie’s question, Orvil shook his graying head. “No, dear, I need to gather the supplies you and Elliot will need.” He winked. “Good thing I own the store! Now, be sure to come down after tea so I can fit your feet to a pair of boots. Just got in a nice shipment. Your fine kid-leather slippers and spool-heeled ladies’ shoes aren’t suited for the trail.”
Coralie’s lower lip jutted out. “Father, I wouldn’t be caught dead in any of those.” She waved her hand toward the shelf of ready-made boots. “And besides, I’m not going to walk. I’m riding in the wagon. You know I have to protect my skin from the sun,” she said, lifting her skirts to flounce up the stairs.
Jordan shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Pick out two pairs of boots for her. I’ll make sure she takes them.” He then followed his wife up the stairs.
Orvil grinned. Yep, his little girl would be in good hands. Then he thought of something else. He lowered his voice. “Jordan?”
“Yes, Mr. Baker?”
“She’s not going to be happy about Jessie.”
Jordan leaned over the wooden banister. “Coralie’s a married woman now, Mr. Baker. She and Jessie will have to make their peace.”
Orvil listened to Jordan tromp upstairs. It wouldn’t be that simple, and he admitted to being a coward. He didn’t want to be anywhere near his daughter when she found out Jessie was going to Oregon.
“You heard right, Coralie. Jessie is going to Oregon as our young brother,” Jordan announced, leaning one hip against the windowsill, his hat in his hands.
“But how? I mean…” Coralie was momentarily stunned. This couldn’t be!
Elliot, lounging in an upholstered Sleepy Hollow armchair, smirked at his sister. “You’d best start calling her Jessie or Jess from now on, Cora.”
Coralie sniffed and turned to sit sideways in her chair, presenting her brother with her back. She hated to be called Cora and her brother knew it, but with Jordan looking on, she kept her features perfectly schooled as she continued her role as hostess and finished pouring the tea. She delivered a fragile cup and saucer to each man, then resumed her seat. Picking up her own cup, she took a careful sip of the hot liquid. “Surely you jest, Jordan,” she said, looking at him through her lashes.
“No, Jessie is going with us, and though I have some reservations about pulling this off, I’m glad. It never felt right leaving her behind.”
“But she can’t go to Oregon disguised as a boy! It’s—it’s preposterous.” Coralie ducked her head, letting her blond curls fall to curtain her face. Her nostrils flared with displeasure. She didn’t want to travel all the way to Oregon with Jessie. She’d planned on using the time alone with her husband’s family to establish herself as the lady of the household—a position she refused to share. Though a slow tide of anger rolled through her, she didn’t dare let Jordan see how his news affected her.
She composed her features before lifting her head. Her eyes were innocently wide when she looked at her husband. “But Jordan, how gauche, pretending that Jessica’s your brother. Surely you can’t expect me to lie?” she asked, her voice high and breathless as her fingers fluttered at her throat.
Ignoring Elliot’s muffled laughter, Coralie fanned her flushed cheeks with one white-gloved hand. “Why, the mere thought of practicing such deceit, especially after we had the good fortune to enjoy the reverend’s sermon on trust and honesty just last Sunday, does make me feel all-overish.”
Jordan coughed and Elliot stood, clapping his hands. “Cora, that was one of your best performances to date. But I do feel I must remind you that truth and honesty or lack thereof have never seemed to bother you before. I propose that you go about your normal business and ignore those virtues in this instance.”
Coralie laughed nervously. “Really, Elliot.” She turned her head to gauge her husband’s reaction and saw his lips twitch.
Elliot sat down with a chuckle. “Jessie has courage and spunk.”
Jordan grimaced and moved from the window to stand beside his wife. “Let’s just hope she keeps away from Wolf. Catching a weasel asleep will be easier than fooling that one. I wouldn’t want that man for an enemy.”
Coralie opened her mouth to argue her opinion of Jessica’s deceitful plan, but Jordan knelt before her, and her gloved fingers were swallowed in his large, callused hands. She tried to look away but his green eyes, darkened with love, held hers.
“I want your word that you will not say or do anything to reveal the truth to anyone.”
Coralie’s heart thumped when his thumb caressed the underside of her wrist. Staring down into his loving gaze, she was powerless to deny him. She tipped her nose upward and sniffed. “Well, she does look like a boy most of the time, so I suppose it shouldn’t be too difficult to pretend she is one. I’ll even try to call her Jessie—but I’m not very good at lying,” she warned with a pout.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Jordan said softly.
Coralie grabbed his shirt when he stood and moved away from her. She leaned into his hard length, and in the blink of an eye, huge tears welled in her eyes. “But Jordan, you must make her be nice to me. She nearly ran me down with that huge horse of hers for no reason last week, ruining another gown.” She blinked the tears from her eyes, then dabbed her long blond lashes delicately with the corner of a pristine white lacy hankie.
Elliot broke in. “Cut it out, Coralie. Pa and I heard you taunting Jessie. In my opinion, you deserved it.”
Twin flags of rage brightened Coralie’s cheeks. Her lower lip trembled as she shook out her skirts. “You’re so mean, Elliot. You don’t know anything.” She peeped at her husband through wet lashes. “Are you going to believe him or me?”
Jordan ran a hand over his jaw. His expression, more than words, let her know he wasn’t fooled by her female wiles. He tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his stern gaze. “It doesn’t matter who started what. What’s past is past.”
He set his half-full teacup down and gripped her hands. “As my wife, you will go along with this. You and Jess are sisters by marriage now. I won’t have any more fighting from either of you. Understood?”
Coralie lowered her gaze and nodded, hiding her resentment. “Yes, Jordie,” she replied, forcing meekness into her voice. What she wouldn’t give to one-up that tomboy Jessica.
Jordan reached out to finger one long golden curl. “Good. Now, my family will be here by nightfall, thanks to your father’s kind generosity in allowing us to stay here until morning. You have the rest of this day to get used to the idea of thinking of Jessie as my little brother. In the meantime, Elliot and I have much to do, as do you. Pack your personal belongings while Elliot and I help your father. Remember, one small trunk.”
Coralie flounced out of the room without a backward glance. Jordan cringed when her bedroom door slammed shut, shaking the whole house. The two men looked at each other and shook their heads.
“As I said, this will not be a dull trip with our sisters along,” Elliot said. “I just hope we can keep them from killing each other.”
Chapter Five
Dusty rose fingers of color raced across the pale blue sky, tinting the fluffy white clouds with the delicate blush of a newborn babe’s skin. Down below, dew clung to spring green grass, pooled on bright shiny leaves and freshened tiny wildflowers dotting the landscape. Sniffing the crisp morning air, a shaggy, white-furred wolf sat on his haunches beside a weathered gray barn. His ears perked forward, and his bright blue eyes tracked the movements of oxen pulling wagons past.
From inside the barn, the animal’s master silently observed the frenzy of activity out in the streets as his wagon train prepared for its journey west. Wolf knew that by month’s end the Oregon Trail would be one endless stretch of white-topped wagons. While most emigrants set out around the first of May, he was leaving nearly two weeks earlier in the hope of getting ahead of the rush and avoiding clogged trails, long lines at the crossings, fouled water and trampled prairies.
Stepping out into the weak warmth of the sun, Wolf saw the approach of the Jones family. He nodded to James and Jeremy, each leading an extra horse as they rode past. Elliot and Jordan followed with two wagons. He glanced down the muddy street, looking for the youngest Jones boy. The fact that Jessie Jones wasn’t with his brothers wasn’t a good sign. Now what mischief was he up to? Feelings of misgiving assailed him. On one hand, the boy was not his concern, but by hiring Jessie as Rook’s assistant, he’d personally assumed responsibility for him.
He knew better than most that the trail was unforgiving of the rashness of youth. This trip would either make a man of the boy or claim his young life. When the ground vibrated beneath him, Wolf instinctively stepped out of the road and back into the shadows to avoid being hit. His gaze narrowed when he noticed that the reckless rider galloping past was none other than the youngest Jones boy. A black-and-tan dog streaked past, then stopped abruptly to eye the wolf.
Hackles raised and h
ead lowered, Wahoska growled low in his throat, but before Wolf could call the animal off, a shrill whistle rent the air. The dog turned away, surging forward in a burst of power to rejoin her master.
Wolf joined his pet in a warm pool of sunlight. “There goes trouble, my friend,” he said to his companion, feeling unaccountably uneasy. Tension radiated beneath his fingertips. He glanced down to see Wahoska tracking the dog’s movements with his keen eyes. Low rumbling continued to erupt from his throat. Wolf pulled at his freshly shaved chin, his gaze pensive as he stared after the youngest Jones brother, now riding ahead of his siblings. Somehow it seemed fitting that Jessie’s dog had agitated the wolf. Heaven only knew the boy managed to get under his skin. Damn. It was going to be a long trip.
The sound of mules braying down the street reminded him that there was work to be done. “Time to get moving, my friend.” Resolution filled him. He had a job to do, and he’d do whatever it took to see that every man, woman, child and beast made it safely to Oregon. Mounting his nervous black stallion, he rode out into the sunlight. Giving a low whistle, he commanded Lady Sarah, the Indian-trained mare he’d named after his mother, to follow. Wahoska padded alongside.
He rode to the meeting spot outside of Westport, joining Rook, who stood near four wagons loaded with food and provisions for the hired men. Aside from food, there was also feed and shoeing equipment for the forty-plus horses that were needed to see the cattle to their destination in the Willamette Valley.
Wolf ran an experienced eye over each team of oxen, checked each wagon, then conferred with Rook over the food and feed stores. When he was satisfied that everything was in order, he turned to the older man. “Have the rest of the wagons line up for inspection,” he ordered.
“Yes, boss.” Rook hurried off. His bowed legs carried his burly figure from wagon to wagon; his deep booming voice rang loud as he shouted out instructions. In short order, the emigrants pulled their wagons into three long lines.
White Wolf Page 6
