Darlin' Druid

by Lyn Horner

  “Lean back and close your eyes,” he ordered sternly.

  Not strong enough to argue, she obeyed his directive, and he released her. Tye said no more about the bridge, thank heaven.

  It took several minutes to recover from her near swoon. Then Tye fussed over her, asking repeatedly if she was all right and apologizing for his thoughtless words. Too embarrassed to even look at David, Jessie found it impossible to thank him for coming to her aid. She was still flustered a short while later, when they reached his destination, FortSanders.

  Oh, how cordial he was in bidding Tye farewell, and how insolent to her. Forced to meet his eyes when he took her hand, she felt how cold her fingers were compared to his and knew he also noticed. The urge to pull away was strong, but she resisted it, gritting her teeth in the face of his mocking smile.

  “Once again, Miss Devlin, I’m grateful to you for staying on in Grand Island, and for all your kind attention.”

  Taking his meaning, Jessie went rigid with anger but managed to control herself. “’Tis I who must be thanking you again, Captain Taylor, for coming to my rescue,” she said in a sugary tone, determined to prove she was not the bad-tempered witch he’d called her.

  “Anything for a lady,” he said with taunting laughter in his eyes, and he bent to press a scalding kiss upon her icy fingers.

  Infuriated, she jerked her hand away. She might well have lost her temper at that point, but Tye intervened.

  “I’ve a notion we’ll be seeing ye again, Captain,” he said, drawing a stare of disbelief from Jessie. “Until then, may good luck be with ye and the devil neglect ye.”

  David looked startled and faintly amused. “Thanks, Devlin. That’s mighty kind of you, but I, uh, doubt we’ll meet again.” He touched his hat to Jessie, picked up his valise and walked out.

  Watching him stride away from the train, Jessie experienced a leaden feeling in the vicinity of her heart. “Why ever did ye say that to him?” she asked Tye as David disappeared from view. “About seeing him again, I mean.”

  “Oh, I think ye know why. He’s the man ye saw in your vision. Ye told me as much, and if he is, you’ll surely see him again. Otherwise, the vision can’t very well come true, now can it?”

  Jessie shot him a sharp glance. She’d been so angry at David that she had told herself to forget her damnable vision. Now a faint ray of hope flickered in her breast for a moment, but she swiftly smothered it. “He’s not the one,” she said. “I was wrong to ever think he could be.”

  Tye smiled and shrugged. “Time will tell, Jess. Time will tell.”

  Frowning, she turned away, certain he was wrong. She would never see David again. Soon, the metal wheels resumed their clacking rhythm, and dejection settled over her like a shroud. Her dreams had turned to ashes. The water vision that had lured her in search of love had been nothing but a cruel trick of her mind. The gentle man from her dreams did not exist, certainly not within David Taylor. As the miles widened between them, she vowed to forget him, just as he had vowed to forget her.

  And should a pair of caressing gray-green eyes appear in her dreams again, she would consign them to hell.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jessie trudged dispiritedly back toward the hotel. Three days had passed since her arrival in Salt Lake City. Three long days she’d spent searching newspaper advertisements and walking the streets, asking at every shop, hotel and restaurant if they were hiring, and still she had no job to show for it. And while Tye would never say so, she knew he must be cursing the day he’d agreed to bring her with him.

  During her fruitless search, her brother had gathered information about mining camps and routes into the mountains. After the week he’d lost in Grand Island – a week Jessie longed to forget – he was anxious to be on his way, but he refused to go until she was safely settled with a means of support. Meanwhile, their scarce funds were dwindling away on food and hotel rooms, funds Tye needed for prospecting supplies. And they had yet to put down money for a room in a boardinghouse for her.

  With that in mind this morning, Tye had set out to find her a suitable residence, although he wouldn’t secure a room just yet, while she’d gone to answer an ad from a family in need of a maid. She’d held high hopes when she knocked on their door a while ago, but she had come away disappointed. The man, who needed help for his ailing wife, had asked Jessie if she was a member of the Church of Latter Day Saints. When she said no, he’d told her he would not hire a gentile.

  She’d been turned away by more than one Mormon shopkeeper for the same reason, making her wary of places bearing the sign of the all-seeing eye. The eye signified membership in Zion’s Cooperative Mercantile Institution, she had learned. To her, it was a warning sign.

  Jessie paused at a street corner to let an approaching wagon pass by. Like all streets in the City of the Saints, this one was uncommonly wide and lined on both sides with a variety of shade trees. Appreciating the shade with the summer sun beating down on her, she eyed the cool water running along beside the trees in irrigation channels. Lucky trees! She could do with a cool drink herself right now.

  The wagon lumbered past, and she crossed the street. Moments later, she passed the Utah Central Depot. Located a few blocks from Temple Square, the depot served passengers traveling to and from Ogden, thirty-six miles to the north, where the short line railroad connected with the transcontinental route. Jessie remembered stepping off the train here with Tye – and wondering what she was going to do with her life in this strange land.

  She’d been in a dreadful mood that day, a result of her unhappy parting with David Taylor. Saints above, how she wished she could stop thinking about him! But he haunted her like . . . .

  Jessie stopped short, her unwelcome thoughts of David scattering to the four winds. Only a little way past the depot and not ten feet away from her, tucked between two much larger structures, stood a narrow wooden building with “Andersen’s Café” lettered in black across the front. She and Tye must have walked right by the place after their arrival, without either of them noticing it.

  The sign of the eye above the café entrance drew her attention, and she gnawed her lip, wondering if she should just keep walking. But she was here. She might as well go in and inquire about a job.

  Opening the door, she cautiously stepped inside and was greeted by an aroma of fried meats, freshly baked bread and apple pie. Her stomach growled at the delectable scents. Scanning the crowded, noisy dining room, she realized it was noontime. Then she spotted a heavyset gray-haired man scurrying from table to table, waiting on customers. He looked frazzled. Sensing an opportunity, Jessie gathered her courage and walked over to him.

  “Excuse me, sir,” she said as he finished delivering an order.

  Turning to face her, he asked in an odd accent, “Yah, what I can do for you, young lady?” The “what” came out sounding like “vut”.

  “Umm, I was just wondering if ye might need help. I’m looking for work, ye see, and –”

  “You have waited tables before?” he interrupted, looking her over as if to gauge her strength. He did not ask if she was a fellow Mormon. Perhaps he was too busy to care.

  “Well, no, but I have worked as a maid. And I’m a fast learner,” Jessie assured him. She held her breath while he studied her a moment longer. Then he nodded decisively and yanked off his apron. She gasped when he thrust it at her, grabbing it reflexively.

  “You are hired,” he said with a broad smile. “Menu is up there.” He pointed to a board hanging on the wall, upon which the menu choices were printed. “Everything else is down there,” he added, indicating an open cabinet below the signboard, where napkins, tableware and glasses were neatly stacked. He started to turn away but paused to add, “When rush is over, you eat.”

  “Y-yes, sir,” Jessie stammered, stunned by her sudden good fortune.

  The afternoon flew by as she worked to keep up with orders, memorize prices and clean up after customers. By the time Ivar Andersen, her new employer, cl
osed his doors at seven that evening she was worn out, but in a very satisfied way.

  “You are good worker, Jessie,” Mister Andersen said, pronouncing her name as if it started with a ‘y’. “I see you in the morning, yah?”

  Jessie smiled happily. “Aye, I’ll be here, and thank ye, sir, for giving me a chance.”

  “Yah, yah, but it is I who must be thanking you. I had to fire my last waitress because she is rude to the customers. That is a week ago, and I am going mad ever since. You do me big favor coming here today.”

  Grateful for his kind words, Jessie headed for the hotel. When she arrived there, Tye was pacing the floor in her room. He must have gotten a key from the desk clerk, she realized. His black hair was mussed as if he’d rubbed his hands back and forth through it, and he wore an anxious frown that dissolved as she closed the door.

  “Thank God you’re back!” he said, planting his fists on his hips, a pose that reminded her of their father. “Ye had me worried, what with it growing so late. The family ye called on must have put ye to work, aye?”

  Rotating her tired shoulders, Jessie sat down on the bed. “I didn’t get the maid’s position,” she said.

  “What!” He dropped his hands to his sides, his hopeful expression turning bleak. “Then where on earth have ye been?”

  Jessie grinned. “I didn’t get the maid’s job but I did hire on as a waitress at a restaurant down near the depot. And, aye, the owner put me straight to work. I just finished for the day a little bit ago.”

  “Halleluiah!” Tye cried jubilantly. “That’s great news. And I’m happy to say I had good luck as well. I found ye a nice, cozy room in a gentile boarding house. And the woman who owns it said ye could move in whenever you’re ready. So what d’ye say? Shall we get ye settled over there now, tonight?”

  She would rather go straight to bed, but she didn’t want to hold him back any longer. She nodded and smiled. “Aye, that sounds fine.”

  Barely an hour later, Jessie stood at the front door of Wilson’s Boarding House, watching her brother stride away. Everything was suddenly happening too fast. Tye had no more than carried her things up to her room when he announced his intention to leave in the morning for the mountains. After paying for her first week’s stay here, he estimated he had just enough money left to purchase a miner’s hammer and pick and a train ticket south, toward the mining camps. Once there, he meant to take a job in one of the big silver mines and build up a fresh “grubstake” so that he could purchase all the other supplies he would need to set about prospecting. Working in a mine would also give him valuable experience, he’d said, trying to put a good face on a bad situation for her sake, Jessie knew.

  Since he would spend tonight back at the hotel, they’d had to say good-bye now. Jessie had somehow managed not to cry during their parting, but her throat constricted as Tye disappeared into the night, and a tear slipped down her cheek. Swiping at the wetness, she stiffened her spine and forced down the lump in her throat.

  Don’t be a goose! Ye knew this moment would come. And wasn’t it you who wanted to stand on your own two feet, to choose your own path and find your own husband?

  Shying away from David’s ever present shadow in her thoughts, she turned and dashed upstairs. She would think only of tomorrow, and of the new life she was determined to create for herself.

  * * *

  Blowing a wisp of damp hair off her cheek, Jessie stepped from the steamy kitchen of Andersen’s Café, balancing a tray loaded with plates of hot food. The dining area, packed with noontime customers, wasn’t as hot as the kitchen. A dry breeze wafting in through open windows along the sides of the building helped to dissipate the heat of early July.

  The café was an unpretentious place with hearty home-style fare. After working here for nearly three weeks, Jessie knew the simple menu by heart and had grown used to the hectic spurts of activity at mealtimes. She delivered two dinners to an elderly couple seated near the kitchen. They were regular customers who stopped by several times a week. Smiling and exchanging a few words with them, she moved on.

  “Hey, girl! Where’s that steak I ordered?” a strident male voice hollered above the hum of conversation filling the room.

  “Right here, sir,” she replied, weaving her way between tables to where the man and his companion sat. Both men could do with a good washing, not to mention a lesson in manners. Eyeing them with distaste, Jessie was unpleasantly reminded of Wolf Gerard and his buffalo skinner friends, although these two were miners, judging by snippets of their rowdy conversation she’d overheard.

  If Ivar Andersen were here, Jessie knew he would tell the pair to quiet down or leave. But her elderly employer had left on an errand, and it wasn’t her place to issue such an ultimatum. She was only an employee, after all, and she couldn’t risk losing her job by driving off customers.

  “What took so long, missy?” the impatient ruffian grumbled. “Did you have to go kill the steer?” He guffawed at his own remark as if it were hilariously funny.

  “I’m sorry to keep ye waiting, sir. We’re a bit busy, as ye can see.” Her small sarcasm escaped his notice.

  “That’s all right, honey,” said the second man, a lanky fellow with stringy brown hair. “Don’t pay Joe any mind. He’s just bein’ ornery.” He favored Jessie with a gap-toothed leer that made her skin crawl. “But not me. Not with a purtty thing like you.”

  Forcing a thin-lipped smile, Jessie bit back a tart reply as she set out Joe’s order. When she rounded the table to her unwanted admirer, she quickly deposited his plate in front of him and started to step back, but she wasn’t fast enough. His arm snaked around her waist and, swiveling toward her, he pulled her between his spread knees, causing her to gasp in dismay.

  “The food smells real good, honey, but I’m hankerin’ for somethin’ sweet. Like you,” he said with a suggestive wink.

  “I am not on the menu,” she snapped, narrowing her eyes at him. He stank so bad that she wondered how he could even smell the food. “Let me go. I have work to do,” she demanded.

  He laughed. “Whooee! You’re a feisty one, ain’t you.”

  “Let go!” Jessie repeated, attempting to twist out of his grasp.

  “Ah, now, don’t be like that, sweetheart. How about a little kiss?”

  “No!” she cried, slapping his other hand away as he tried to grab her breast. “Stop it! Unhand me!”

  When he gave another crude laugh and continued to paw at her, her temper exploded. Stomping on his toes with the heel of her shoe, she drew a pained grunt from him. His hold on her loosened enough for her to wrench free. Snarling, he tried to trap her again, but she stumbled backward out of reach, simultaneously clouting him across his face with her empty tray.

  The miner’s shrill cry reverberated through the room. Sucking in air to cleanse his stench from her nostrils, Jessie watched him clap a hand over his face and screw his eyes shut while he mewled in pain. After a moment, he opened his eyes and lowered his hand. It came away bloody. More blood dripped from his nose.

  “You snooty bitch!” he roared. “You damn near broke my nose, and you’re gonna pay for it!” He shot out of his chair, ignoring cries of alarm from nearby diners, and started after her.

  Backing away in fright, Jessie prepared to hit him again.

  “You leave Miss Jessie alone, mister,” a deep voice boomed from the back of the room.

  The miner stopped in his tracks and turned toward the speaker, while Jessie gave a sigh of relief at the sight of Ivar Andersen’s cook, Billy Owens. He stood in the kitchen doorway, looking thoroughly intimidating. His open collar revealed a thickly corded neck, his forearms bulged with muscle below rolled up shirtsleeves, and his long, grease-splattered apron encased a tall, powerful torso. The former miner, turned cook, usually wore a friendly smile, but right now a thunderous scowl contorted his sweaty features. Noting the meat cleaver clutched in his fist, Jessie gulped.

  “I-I-I didn’t lay a hand on her, mister,” the miner st
ammered.

  “Liar!” Jessie cried indignantly.

  He shot her a furious glare but amended, “Well, maybe I put my arm around her for a minute, but that ain’t no crime, is it? She didn’t have no call to go stomping my toes and whacking me with that thing.” He pointed to the tray in her hands, then fingered his rapidly swelling nose. “Just look what she done to me!”

  “And what about the way ye –”

  Billy’s bellow of laughter cut Jessie off. She sent him a startled glance. Realizing he was tickled by the way she’d defended herself, she couldn’t suppress a sheepish grin. Then a giggle escaped, becoming a full-fledged laugh, and several customers joined in.

  The miner did not appreciate their laughter. Turning red, he ground his teeth and glowered at Jessie, hands clenched into fists. No doubt he would have enjoyed using them on her if not for Billy’s presence.

  “How do you like that, Joe?” he complained to his cohort. “The food ain’t fit to eat in this rat hole and they treat a man like dirt besides! Come on, let’s get outta here!”

  “That’s a real good idea, mister,” Billy rumbled. “You and your chum get out. But first you pay up.”

  Nearly apoplectic, the troublemaker gave a wordless growl and dug in his pockets for the price of his untouched steak. His companion followed suit, grumbling in disgust as the two slapped down their money. Looking fit to be tied, they stomped out, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the windows.

  Silence hung over the dining room for a moment; then everyone started talking at once.

  “I’m sorry for the trouble,” Jessie said over the clamor. She felt somehow responsible for the disturbance, although how she could have avoided it, she didn’t know. She was relieved to hear several customers speak up, telling her not to worry about it, she’d only done what she had to do. Glancing at Billy Owens, she received a reassuring nod before he retreated to the kitchen.

  As she went back to work, it occurred to Jessie that she might be better off with a face full of warts and minus a few teeth. Maybe then she wouldn’t be forced to fend off the likes of that obnoxious miner and Wolf Gerard, not to mention Corporal Thompson back in Omaha. And David Taylor.