White Witch
Page 3
“Aye, I am. And ’tisn’t as crazy as it sounds, Jess,” Tye asserted defensively. “I’m thinking I’ll get a job in one of the big mines to support myself while I learn all I can about working a claim. That way, if luck is with me and I strike a rich vein, I’ll know how to make it pay off.”
“Rubbish!” Da erupted. “Ye’d probably starve to death if ye didn’t get yerself killed in the mine first! So just forget it now. Ye’ll not be settin’ foot out o’ this city. Not if I have anythin’ to say about it.”
“Well, ye don’t!” Tye returned with equal vehemence, leading to another ear-splitting round.
Jessie tried to calm them down, but it was useless. They wouldn’t even listen to her. Finally, out of desperation, and because she was just as furious as they were by now, she delivered a sharp kick to the shins of each man.
Tye yelped in pain and grabbed for his leg. Mouth agape, he stared at her. Meanwhile, Da gave a loud grunt and sat down heavily on the bed behind him.
“Are ye daft, girl?” he croaked, glaring up at Jessie as he gingerly massaged his bruised shinbone. “Ye could break a man’s leg that way!”
“’Twould serve ye both right if I did!” Jessie stormed back. “The two of ye were carrying on like banshees!”
“Bejasus, girl, I’ll –”
“You’ll what? Slap me? Or take a strap to me the way ye used to? Nay, I think not. I’m not a child any longer. I’ll not submit to such things.” Gathering steam, she went on, “The truth is Tye and I are both too old for ye to keep ordering us about like children. Can’t ye see that?”
Fixing her with a condemning look, Da replied mournfully, “Aye, Jessie Allyn Devlin, I do see. I see that ye’re willful and disobedient, with no respect a’tall for yer own father.”
Jessie shook her head, ready to deny his accusation, but he held up his hand. “Nay. I’ll have me say, at least, if ye please.”
She grudgingly bit back her denial. Beside her, Tye also held his silence, though she knew how difficult it must be for him. With his sensitivity to others’ emotions, he was undoubtedly feeling not only his own anger and frustration, but hers as well.
Da cleared his throat. “I’ll say this, me girl, ye’ve named the problem right enough.” He nodded. “Ye are indeed too old to be livin’ under me thumb any longer. ’Tis high time ye were married and bidin’ with yer husband. I’ve a hunch ye’d learn to curb yer shrewish tongue quick enough then. For no man worth his salt will be puttin’ up with it for long.”
Stung by his words, Jessie sucked in her breath. “Oh, a shrewish tongue, have I? And are ye going to beat that same old horse again? How many times must I tell ye I’ll wed when I’m good ’n ready and not before?"
“Oh, ye’ll wed, daughter, and soon,” he replied, sounding smug. “I’ve invited young Kevin Fitzgerald over tomorrow evenin’, and I happen to know he plans to ask for yer hand in marriage again.”
“Let him ask! My answer is still no,” Jessie replied hotly. “Kevin Fitzgerald indeed! Why, he’s the most puffed up, obnoxious toad I’ve ever met. All because his father happens to know a few big-wigs downtown.”
“Ye’re far too choosy, girl,” Da barked, rising from the bed to face her squarely. “The lad would provide well for ye. And I’m warnin’ ye, if ye turn him away again I’ll choose a husband for ye and make the arrangements meself.”
“What! Ye can’t force me to wed a man I don’t love. I’ll run away first.”
“Da, what are ye thinking?” Tye cried. “This isn’t the old country, ’tis America. Jessie’s right, ye can’t force her into marriage.”
“Hold yer tongue, boy,” Da growled. “Ye’ve no business tellin’ me what I can or can’t do, especially when ye want to go chasin’ after a foolish pipe dream!” He met Jessie’s rebellious glare. After a moment’s thought, he nodded grudgingly. “I’ll give ye a wee bit more time, miss, but if ye tarry much longer I will make the choice for ye. Ye’re goin’ to the altar one way or another.”
“Nooo!” Jessie choked, backing away from him. “Ye can’t make me!”
“We’ll see about that, me girl.” Scowling, he added, “And don’t be tellin’ me ye’ll run away, for we both know ’tis naught but an empty threat. Ha! Where would ye be runnin’ to?”
Jessie had no ready answer. Nor did she trust herself to speak, for she was on the verge of tears. Whirling around, she turned her back on him. She refused to cry. She would not let him see how hurt she was by his callous disregard for her feelings. Clamping her lips together, she stood rigid, forcing her emotions under control.
Behind her, Da cleared his throat again and decreed, “There’s an end to the matter for now. And as for yer crackbrained notion, Tyrone Devlin, I’ll hear no more about silver in Utah or anywhere else.”
Tye didn’t argue further, evidently deciding it was pointless. Jessie heard her father cross to the door, where he paused to say, “I’ll expect ye both downstairs directly and I’ll thank ye each to keep a civil tongue in yer head while we’re at table.” Not waiting for a response, he opened the door and stalked out.
Jessie stayed rooted where she was until Tye inquired, “Jess, are ye all right?”
“I’m fine,” she replied, pivoting to face him. “When exactly are ye planning to leave for Utah?”
“Why, I . . . I was thinking I might save up enough within two months or so.” Shaking his head, he walked over and laid a hand on her shoulder. “But I’ll not go off and leave ye with Da trying to marry ye off to the likes of Kevin Fitzgerald. I couldn’t live with myself if I did.”
Jessie shook her head and said calmly, “Ye needn’t worry. I wasn’t making an idle threat. I’ll leave home before I let myself be forced into such a marriage. In fact, I’m thinking I should be going with ye when ye leave.”
Tye’s hand slid from her shoulder and he stared at her, mouth agape. Then he shook his head and laughed. “Ye must be joking. The West is no place for an unmarried woman, not a decent one at least. Nay! I’ll not hear of it.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Later that night . . .
Jessie lay awake staring into the darkness above her. She was exhausted, yet sleep would not come. Her thoughts were in turmoil, not only due to her clash with her father and Tye’s refusal to consider taking her with him when he journeyed west, but also because of the dream she’d had earlier. She couldn’t stop thinking about the unfamiliar turn it had taken and the man who had appeared to save her.
Was he merely a creature of her own making, an imaginary hero such as she had often conjured in her girlish dreams long before the fire? She couldn’t recall his features except for those smoky green eyes that had gazed at her so lovingly, but she was certain they’d never met in the real world. If they had, she would remember him.
Why then had he suddenly entered her nightmare? And why had she been in a strange house, a house afire that she sensed she couldn’t escape? It made no sense . . . unless it was her cursed gift at work again, unless she’d glimpsed a terrifying event in her future.
Nay, that was too much to believe. Surely she hadn’t survived one dreadful fire only to die in another. Saints above, she prayed not!
Rolling onto her side, Jessie told herself it served no purpose to dwell on a foolish dream. She needed to sleep. Tomorrow was another work day. Despite that, it was a long while before she finally dropped off.
All too soon the horror began. For the hundredth time at least, she relived the night she wanted desperately to forget. Moaning in her sleep, she thrashed about, fleeing from the monster blaze in her dream. Until, abruptly, she was in the unfamiliar house again.
Smoke stung her eyes and nostrils. Taunting shouts from outside assailed her ears. Fire crackled and howled as it devoured the roof overhead. She couldn’t escape; there was nowhere to run! Cinders dropped to the floor, sending flames climbing up her skirts. She screamed in terror.
Then the man appeared. Tearing off his coat, he beat at her skirts, putting out the fla
mes. When he raised his head she saw the love in his eyes and longed for him to hold her.
Jessie awoke with a cry of distress. Sitting up, she hugged her quaking body until the realization that she was safe, that there was no fire, sank into her consciousness. As fear subsided she struggled to recall the man in her dream. Only two things came back to her: his slanted dark brows and the gentle, loving expression in his smoky green eyes. His other features were a blur. She had a strong feeling she should know him, yet was absolutely certain they’d never met.
Frustrated by her inability to recall more about him, she pounded the bed with her fists, then gave way to tears, cupping her face in her hands and weeping bitterly. She was a fool to conjure up a man who probably wasn’t real. She choked down her tears and lay back, considering the matter. Was her second sight showing her a scene from the future? Did her dream hero await her somewhere? If so, how was she to meet him?
Jessie’s troubled questions went unanswered that night, but as weeks passed and her mysterious rescuer continued to visit her dreams almost nightly, she began to believe he did indeed exist. With this conclusion, she also believed they were destined to meet and fall in love – if only her father would give her time to find him.
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How will Jessie meet her dream hero? Will he prove to be what she expects? Find out in Darlin’ Druid.
Table of Contents
Preface
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter four