by Jodi Thomas
“We’ll see.” Austin laughed. If he saw Colton’s first wife walk over her own grave, he’d arrest the man himself.
As they circled back toward the house, True pulled on the marshal’s sleeve. “Don’t forget your promise. If trouble comes, I’ll find you, but you have to let me stay with you.”
Austin tousled True’s hair. “I wouldn’t want you anywhere else but with me, partner.”
“Good, ‘cause trouble’s coming. I can smell it in the air,” True said, using one of Spider Morris’s favorite sayings. “Just before supper a ranch hand came in asking if some men could help him come morning round up horses that broke loose.”
“That doesn’t mean trouble.”
“It does when things like that come in threes. First the fence is cut on the north pasture, then the horses break loose.”
“And the third?”
True hesitated. “Delta told me I was gonna have to take a bath tomorrow come hell or high water.”
Austin tried to hide his smile. “I see what you mean. You’d best stick close.”
True saluted and vanished into the night as Austin stepped onto the back porch. He’d left through the front, but he figured if he went back this way, he’d at least pass Jennie’s door.
The house was laid out in a square, with a private, unkept garden in the center. The main rooms—parlor, dining room and study—were along the front. The kitchen, washroom and sewing room were on the left, where most of the day shade from the cliffs kept the rooms cool. Colton’s rooms were on the right of the house, facing the sunrise. The last section of the square had been cut into four bedrooms designed for company who weren’t staying long or children. The two rooms along each wall were small with a dressing area to divide them.
Though across the hall from Jennie, Austin’s room might as well have been across the county. He walked down the hall wishing he had the nerve to knock on her door. But she’d given him no indication that she’d welcome such an advance.
Everyone in the house had either gone home or retired. Austin decided he’d just look in on Jennie and make sure she was sleeping peacefully. He had reached for her doorknob when he realized he might frighten her. After a moment of hesitation he moved down the hall to the bedroom next to hers.
Austin passed silently through the empty bedroom, following a light shining from the dressing area.
As he slowly pushed the door open a few inches, he froze at the sight before him. Jennie was sitting in a copper tub of water. Several candles lit the room to a yellow glow. Steam from the water made the air seem thick enough to grasp. Her ebony hair was piled high, and her skin glowed in the soft light.
For a moment Austin just watched. He couldn’t remember ever seeing anything so beautiful in his life. An artist could have never captured the beauty of her slender neck and back as soapy water trickled over her flesh.
While he watched, she stood. Without bothering with a towel, she took the few steps to the stack of hot bricks banking coals designed to keep water hot and the room warm. She lifted a large kettle of steaming water and poured it into her bath.
He slowly moved his gaze along her slender lines. He’d touched her in the darkness and known that she would be beautiful, but nothing as grand as the wonder standing before him.
Climbing back into the tub, she reached for the lye soap and Austin caught sight of her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks. He watched in horror as she dipped the harsh soap into the water and roughly scrubbed her body. The smell of the lye filled the thick air. She dipped the bar again and again into the water and rubbed the soap across her tender skin.
Austin looked more closely. Her skin didn’t just glow with the warmth of the candlelight, it had been reddened by the soap as well. All along her body, bruises darkened just beneath the skin. Her eyes were puffy and red from more than a few minutes’ tears.
Finally she stood, and Austin took a breath, thankful she’d stopped bathing. But she only moved to the small stove and gathered more steaming water. She took a moment to add cold water to the kettles for later.
He watched the same scene he’d once thought so lovely, now with a bitter ache twisting through him. Again she poured the steaming water over her skin. Again she scrubbed with the harsh soap as though she were washing her very soul. Again she cried.
“Jennie,” he whispered, feeling in his heart every stroke made over her flesh. “Jennie, stop!”
She looked up, for a moment not believing she’d heard her name.
Austin appeared from behind the door. “What are you doing?” His words were kind as he took the soap from her hand.
“I can’t get clean,” she cried. “I can’t get clean.”
Austin didn’t care if he got wet. He didn’t care if he woke the whole house. He pulled her from the tub and lifted the kettle in one hand.
The water tested warm as he poured it first on his hand and then over her skin. Up close he could see how raw her flesh was from the bathing. Judging from the amount of lye soap in her bathwater, she’d been here quite awhile.
Jennie didn’t move as he washed the soap off her. She only stared at him with huge eyes.
Grabbing a towel from the shelf, Austin wrapped it around her. “Stay here,” he ordered as he stormed across the hall and grabbed a bottle of lotion someone had left in his bedroom.
When he returned, Jennie hadn’t moved, but she was shivering. He carried her into her bedroom and jerked one of the quilts from her bed. Before putting it over her shoulders he rubbed the lotion on her back and arms. With the blanket resting over her, his large hands quickly moved up and down her body spreading lotion. He knew if he didn’t do something quick, her skin would be so dry in places it would be cracked and bleeding by morning. All pleasure of touching her was forgotten in his haste.
“There,” he said as he wrapped the quilt tightly around her. “That’ll help.”
She stared at him with tear-filled eyes. Feeling as though she’d reached the bottom pit of her world, she realized that somehow he’d found her.
“Jennie,” he whispered. “Everything’s all right, Jennie. No one is going to hurt you.”
“Promise you’ll come if I need you,” she whispered. “Promise.”
“I promise,” he answered as he held her. “I’ll watch over you for as long as you need me.”
She cried softly against his shoulder. “I can’t get clean.” How could she tell him that no matter how hard she scrubbed she could still feel the touch of Ward’s hands clawing at her body?
“You’re clean, Jennie.” Austin’s words interrupted her thoughts. “I’m here if you need me.”
As she forced her grief into a darkened closet of her mind, Jennie realized she’d lived through the attack and must go on with her life. “I’m afraid,” she whispered, remembering her family, who’d always said she couldn’t survive alone. “More afraid than I’ve ever been.”
Austin swore in frustration. He was never any good at talking. Fighting was much more to his liking. But how could he fight a memory of what she’d gone through? How could he fight past pain?
He looked at her, so beautiful all wrapped in a quilt, with her hair clinging around her face in damp, soft curls. What could he say to her that would make her feel better?
“Jennie,” he whispered, but she didn’t look at him.
Slowly he lifted her in his arms and walked over to the room’s only chair, a rocker. He sat down with her and rocked back and forth. Where was the strong fighter he’d met on the train, the compassionate woman who’d stayed up all night helping during the train wreck, the warrior who’d been willing to lie to him forever to save her friend?
As he rocked, her body slowly relaxed in his arms. He pulled her close against his chest. “Come back to me, Jennie,” he said over and over, like a prayer.
After a long while her arm slid up around his neck and her head rested on his shoulder. But when he said her name, she didn’t answer. She needed time to think and heal, but she cou
ldn’t deny the tender way he held her, making her feel cherished for the first time in her life.
Long afterward she fell asleep wishing he could reach her … wondering if he’d be able to help even if he did. Maybe he’d done all he needed to do. He’d held her.
Chapter 29
Jennie awoke long past dawn. The pale light of day ambled lazily into the room as though only planning a temporary visit. When Jennie moved, the quilt tumbled around her, mingling with the memory of Austin coming to her bath the night before.
Crossing to the window, she remembered how he hadn’t tried to kiss her or make love, yet all his actions had silently whispered of loving. He’d rocked her in his warm arms until she felt safe, with all the pain of the attack melting from her mind. She’d thought of telling him how much he meant to her, but the days without sleep had finally overtaken all reason, and she’d slumbered so soundly she hadn’t even felt him lift her into bed.
Now, looking at the gray, brooding sky, she wished she’d told him how she felt. He’d sailed like a dream lover through her fears and brought her to rest on tranquil shores. The night had been a passing, a healing, that she’d needed.
Jennie scrambled into one of her two dresses that weren’t uniforms. She hadn’t worn her calico since the dance, but the cotton still felt soft against her skin, and the layers of petticoats brushed warm over her legs. Combing her hair, Jennie let it hang free, for within she felt a new freedom building.
When she looked in the mirror, she liked the person looking back. Not the dress and hair, but the eyes. She’d had her days of feeling sorry for herself and wishing she could run back home, but now was a time to realize she was a survivor. She wasn’t some mousy, homely sister who’d always need others to make decisions for her. She’d faced evil and won.
Squaring her shoulders, Jennie opened the door, ready to face the world.
But the world didn’t seem ready for her. The house was quiet. She walked from room to room expecting to find Delta or Colton and a few of his men behind every door she opened. But the already drab house seemed even more so without the sound of voices. Even Austin’s room looked like it hadn’t been occupied all night.
Finally, Jennie pulled on a light shawl and went out onto the long front porch that ran the length of the house. The breeze was cold, encouraging her to stay close to the house and out of its path. The only sound she heard was the creaking whine of the porch swing as it twisted like an old man in the lazy wind. Bubbling blue-gray clouds hung so low they almost touched the roof of the barn. A whistling sound whispered of a storm brewing in the sky far above her.
The yard was empty. No ranch hands moved between buildings. No idle talkers on the front porch of the bunk-house. No men in the corral. Everyone had vanished, leaving Jennie alone.
Refusing to allow panic to overtake her, Jennie fought down a scream. What if everyone were busy somewhere and they all heard her yell like a frightened child in a corn patch only one row away from his mother?
She moved slowly along the length of the porch, knowing the dark calico of her dress blended with the shadows. There was a simple answer to the silence. She’d wait until someone returned. Only in a nightmare could an entire ranch population disappear without a trace.
Looking toward the barn, Jennie felt panic dance along her spine. Barn doors were never closed and bolted during working hours, yet this one looked like it was blockaded against a storm. She could feel trouble blending in the breeze even before she saw the lone barrel of a rifle poking out the loft window.
Her first thought was that Ward had found them, but that was impossible. There had to have been more than twenty men around the place when they arrived. All of them couldn’t have vanished because of a lone gunman.
She paced the length of the porch. Reason told her to remain in the shadows until she knew whose hand was on the trigger of the one rifle; fear told her to scream for help and hope it arrived before a bullet
When she reached the swing at one end of the long porch, she turned, risking another look at the rifle. Maybe it had been left there some time ago. Maybe there was no man in the blackness beyond the loft opening. But maybes were no protection to stand behind if firing started.
“Miss,” someone whispered from behind her. “Miss, stay back close to the house!”
Jennie recognized Link’s voice. “Lincoln? Is that you?” Relief filled her. She was no longer alone. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know, but something is,” he whispered back. “Move real slow to the door and slip inside. I’ll go around back and meet you in the entry hall. Take your time. You don’t want that rifle to swing this direction.”
Jennie followed his instructions. Whoever held the rifle pointed his aim away from the house, toward the road, so there was a good chance he hadn’t noticed her.
Slipping inside, Jennie bolted the door. The house appeared even darker than before; only now the heavy furnishings and plain walls seemed stark and unwelcoming. Colton had built the house to stand as a fortress with waist-high windows and thick walls. Today the windows seemed even smaller and the walls felt as though they were closing in.
Link almost ran into her in the shadows.
“Where is everyone?” She grabbed Link by the arm, panic tightening her grip.
“Most of the hands are either on the north pasture or trying to round up the horses someone set loose. I was supposed to go with them this morning, but with the cook gone, Pa told me I needed to stay and clean up. He figured I ain’t much of a cook, but I could haul wood and water for you and Mrs. Delta.”
Link’s thin body jerked with nervousness, reminding Jennie of a willow facing a full gale. “After Colton and Mrs. Delta decided to take a morning nap, I curled up on the cot in the supply room and fell asleep. When I woke up, I looked out the window. Two strangers were dragging one of the hands into the barn. I watched them from the corner of the house until they disappeared inside. I was headed in to check on Mr. Barkley when I noticed you walking right into a trap.”
Before Jennie could ask more questions, they heard several horses approaching fast. Jennie moved to the parlor window, with Link a half step behind.
Two strangers ran from the barn. “How’d it go?” one yelled to the leader of the riders.
“Just as expected,” the rider answered. “We won’t be seeing any of Barkley’s men before nightfall.”
“Good. We’ve got everyone around here tied up except Barkley and his wife. He’s too shot up to give us any trouble. Wanta go in with us to get them?”
One of the men on horseback grunted. “I don’t much like the idea of killing her, too. Buck’s feud is with Barkley, not his wife.”
The head rider climbed from his saddle. “If you got any objections, J. D., maybe you’d best take it up with the boss. He’s got his reasons; and with the money he promised, I can drink my conscience clean.”
Link moved to the other window in the parlor. “We’ve got to do something.”
“Are you armed?” Jennie whispered.
“No,” Link answered. “But we can lock them out. Every window in this place has got shutters that bolt from the inside.”
“But they’ll see us.”
“Then we’ll have to act fast. I bolted the back of the house earlier. Except for your bedroom and where Mr. and Mrs. Barkley are, the place is closed up.”
Jennie looked at the window before her. She’d have to shove up the glass and reach way out to pull the shutter in. They’d never be able to close all six windows running along the front of the house without being shot. The men were not thirty feet from the porch.
A question arched Link’s eyebrow. “Do we give it a try or give up?”
Jennie glanced at the men. They were a gutter lot, scraped from the charred bottom of humanity. Everyone of them looked as if he would kill her and Link without blinking.
“We give it a try,” she answered. “When I say now, we both move at once. Then maybe they’ll only have time to shoot
one of us.”
“Great plan.” Link’s smile didn’t hide his fear. “Wish I had a better one.”
Jennie slowly slid the glass up into its casing. As she opened her mouth to say “Now,” something darted across the space between the corral and the barn.
One of the men saw it also. “Damn,” he yelled and started running toward the corral. “It’s that kid. He was the hardest to catch and now he’s got untied.”
The men on horseback climbed down, laughing. “Can’t keep up with one that size, Red. You’ll be facing hell when Lawton gets here.”
The other men hooted and yelled as if they were watching a horse race.
“Now,” Jennie whispered as she leaned from the window and pulled the first set of shutters closed. Link did the same.
They ran to the dining room. As Jennie pulled the second set shut, she noticed that the men had moved toward the barn and were taking bets on how long it would take Red to catch True. There was no doubt in her mind who the child was, and she almost felt sorry for Red for wasting his time. True could outrun a jackrabbit on hot sand.
As she and Link shoved the locks on the third set, Jennie took a deep breath for the first time in several minutes. “We’re safe,” she whispered.
“Mr. Barkley’s room!” Link answered, breaking into a dead run down the hall.
Jennie was right behind him when he opened the bedroom door. Colton slept quietly atop the covers with only a lap quilt for warmth. He was fully dressed except for his boots. Delta sat beside the bed, unaware of any trouble.
“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment she saw their faces.
“Trouble!” Link yelled. “Bolt the windows!”
Colton jerked full awake, gripping his abdomen in pain as he paid for his fast action. “What?”
Delta’s hand moved to his shoulder as Jennie and Link crossed the room and took care of the windows. “We’re not sure what’s happened or where everyone is,” Link said, “but some men were headed toward the porch planning to kill you.”
In fear, Delta’s face drained of all blood, but Colton didn’t even look surprised.
