Darlin' Druid

by Lyn Horner

  In no hurry to leave when she presented such an alluring picture, he leaned against the door jam, arms crossed. “Actually, I expect to be late.”

  Her sleepy half-smile turned into an alert frown. “Indeed? Might I ask what business will be keeping ye so long?”

  “Just some things.” He grinned teasingly. “You sure do look fetching, Jessie darlin’. Want to drop that sheet and let me see what you’re trying so hard to hide? Then maybe I’ll put off going for a while.”

  She blushed deeply, fists knotting the fabric barrier. “Faith, sir, but you’re a lustful rogue. Stop staring at me so!”

  He winked. “Just admiring my property, ma’am.”

  “Property! Ooh, get ye gone!”

  Laughing, he ducked out the door in time to avoid the pillow she hurled at him.

  “Property indeed!” Jessie fumed, listening to his laughter fade away. He’d said it just to prick her, she realized with a grin. Getting up, she savored his naughty teasing while she washed and dressed. Still, she wondered what business would detain him late into the evening, and why he’d not wanted to tell her about it. Unable to solve the riddle, she set her curiosity aside for the time being.

  Jessie was wary of meeting her father-in-law this morning after the way she’d chastised him at the supper table. However, he greeted her cordially when she joined him for breakfast and quickly put her at ease, apologizing for the scene last evening.

  “And I’m sorry for –” she began, but he held up his hand to stop her.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you spoke your mind. I don’t want you feeling like you have to tiptoe around me. If you’ve got something to say, say it, and I’ll hear you out.” He looked away, jaw set in a stubborn expression Jessie had often seen on David’s face. “Even if I don’t always like it.”

  “Very well.” She hesitated before adding, “Since ye wish me to be frank, I must ask a favor of ye.”

  He considered her for a moment then nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “Please don’t tell David what I revealed to ye about his decision to leave the army and come home. He . . . wouldn’t like me interfering between the two of ye.”

  Reece gave a snort bordering between amusement and disgust. “Don’t worry, I don’t aim to say much of anything to that traitor.”

  Jessie stiffened. “If we’re to be friends, Reece, and I hope we will be, ye must stop calling my husband a traitor.”

  He glowered at her, and she thought he might erupt into an angry tirade – and quite possibly order her to get out – but after a tense moment he issued a gusty sigh. “All right, damn . . . darn it, I’ll try to keep my opinion to myself, at least when you’re around. Now are you happy?”

  “Aye, very happy,” she said with a bright smile.

  “Humph! Women!” he grumped, but his lips quirked upward.

  Lighter of heart, Jessie set to work sweeping, dusting and scrubbing. It would require days to clean the whole house, since she also needed to launder curtains and take down the drapes in the front rooms to beat the dust from them. She only hoped they wouldn’t fall apart; they really ought to be replaced. The parlor furniture also desperately needed recovering, but it wasn’t for her to suggest. After all, David had made it clear they would stay only long enough for her to rest up. Not that she was doing any resting.

  Anna praised her cleaning efforts, saying she didn’t have the strength anymore to keep the place up and do the cooking. Reece was less pleased. Grumbling when she invaded his room to clean, he limped off to the barn and spent the afternoon there – helping Sul Smith repair a broken saddle, he said with satisfaction when he returned.

  They enjoyed a quiet supper, without David, after which Jessie soon excused herself, saying she was tired. She was exhausted, but tonight she meant to have a bath in that grand copper tub, now gleaming spotlessly in its alcove. She’d made cleaning it one of her first tasks.

  Calling up the last of her stamina, she carted in bucket after bucket of water from the well in the courtyard. Some went directly into the tub; the rest took a while to heat, but it was worth it. Immersed at last in her steaming bath, Jessie sighed happily as she leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the hot water sooth her sore muscles.

  Where was David? She hoped he hadn’t run into those two cowhands they’d encountered yesterday. The big, nasty looking one had knocked on the front door this morning, asking to see “the boss”. He’d spoken politely, introducing himself to her as Wes Foster and apologizing for any upset he’d caused her at their first meeting. But giving the lie to his words, he had again undressed her with his lewd gaze, making her skin crawl. Jessie could only be thankful Reece hadn’t yet gone out to the barn at that time. She would not want Foster to catch her alone in the house.

  Surely she needn’t worry about David, though, even if he had crossed paths with Foster again. If he could defeat Blake Stanton and a murderous army deserter, he could handle an obnoxious cowboy, she told herself.

  Wickedly, she imagined him walking in right now and joining her in the oversized tub. The thought of his hands gliding over her wet, soapy skin, and of doing the same to him, made her heart race and her pulse surge with desire. She really wished he would come home. Soon.

  Her wish was not granted. She was in bed asleep before David finally returned. He didn’t wake her to make love to her like the night before. Nor did he offer any lusty suggestions in the morning, seeming preoccupied and anxious to leave again, this time to lend a hand with the herd, he said. All of which left Jessie vaguely disturbed.

  That day was much like the previous one. She continued her cleaning, Reece fled in his buggy to visit neighbors, and David stayed out late – avoiding his father, Jessie assumed. What good would that do? The two needed to talk if they were ever to settle their differences. But then, David meant to leave soon, she reminded herself again, depressed by the thought. Where they would go, she had no idea.

  Once more, she went to bed alone.

  * * *

  David removed his spurs and hung them on a nail outside the door before quietly entering the house. Weary from another long day in the saddle and dissatisfied with the results, he headed into the parlor, in need of a drink. He stopped short when he saw his father.

  “Come on in,” Pa barked. He sat in one of the wingback chairs near the hearth, an oil lamp burning dimly on a table beside him. “Thought I might have to wait all night for you to show up,” he grumbled, carefully resettling his stiff leg on a hide-covered footrest.

  Not certain how to take that remark, David pulled off his dusty hat and ran a hand through his hair. “I was going to get a drink. You want one?”

  “Nope. I’m through pickling myself.”

  David cocked his eyebrows, wondering what had brought on this sudden change. Then he knew: it was Jessie, of course. Smiling wryly to himself, he poured a shot of whiskey and downed it, then set the glass aside and turned around. “Something you want to talk to me about?”

  “There is. Sit down over here.” His father gestured imperiously at the chair across from him. “I don’t like talking to a dark corner.”

  David sauntered over and warily took the indicated seat.

  “Fall round-up’s about to start,” the old man said curtly.

  “Yeah. So?”

  That got him a testy glance. “So, I could use an extra hand. Figured you might as well stay and help out.”

  Not quite believing his own ears, David hesitated before nodding slowly. “Suits me. I reckon Jessie wouldn’t mind staying a while longer.”

  His father chuckled and shook his head. “That girl’s settling in for a siege, but I don’t suppose you’ve noticed, being gone all the time.” He held up his hand when David started to defend himself. “I know you’ve been trying to scout up sign of those rustlers. Sul told me.”

  Scowling, David rubbed his neck. “Yeah, but I haven’t had any luck.” He crooked his lips wryly. “Had words with some folks, though.”

&
nbsp; “Like the Crawfords, for instance?”

  “For instance.”

  “They lost Toby, you know. Happened up in Tennessee. Wasn’t one of the big battles, but the boy’s just as dead.”

  “I heard,” David said, throat tightening as he recalled the quiet youth who had once been his best friend.

  Surprisingly, Pa didn’t lay into him again about the war. “I don’t know what I’m going do for a round-up foreman,” he said, returning to his original subject. “Sul’s a good man, but it’s too much for him, and I sure can’t ramrod it with this damned leg.”

  David eyed him closely, then cleared his throat. “I, uh, might be able to give you a hand with the job.”

  Not looking at him, Pa pursed his lips and appeared to consider. Then he nodded slowly. “Might be you could.”

  * * *

  Jessie didn’t so much as see her husband the following morning, since he left before she awoke. Hurt because he seemed to be avoiding her as well as his father, she wondered why.

  Around mid-morning, she was polishing silverware in the dining room while Reece went over the ranch finances in his study. When Jessie heard a horse gallop up out front, she laid down the spoon she was polishing and walked into the hall, intending to greet their visitor.

  Before she reached the door, it swung open and a tall, slender woman strode in. At least, Jessie thought the intruder was a woman, judging by the small mounds under her blue, man-style shirt and the long, dark braid swinging over one shoulder. Otherwise, it was hard to tell, for she was dressed exactly like a ranch hand, in denim britches, boots, and a low-crowned cowboy hat. She even wore a gun strapped to her slender hips.

  Astounded by her appearance and by the way she’d barged in, Jessie gaped at her. It took her several seconds to realize she, too, was being stared up and down, and in a very insulting manner.

  “So it’s true. He’s back, and you’re his wife, I reckon. I heard he’d got himself hitched to some Yankee,” the strange female said coldly. “Guess that shouldn’t surprise me.”

  “David Taylor is my husband, if that’s what ye mean,” Jessie said, wondering at the other’s hostility. “And might I be asking who you are?”

  “I’ll be damned!” the woman sneered, ignoring the question. “An Irish Yankee to boot! Where is he, Irish? Where’s your no-good husband? I’ve got a score to settle with him.”

  Glaring at her, Jessie crossed her arms and thickened her brogue. “Do ye now? Well, ’twill have to wait until ye answer me question. Who are ye? And by what right do ye come burstin’ in here as if ye owned the place?”

  Dark brown eyes narrowed fiercely. “I’ll tell you who I am. The name’s Lil Crawford, and if that coyote you married hadn’t turned traitor, I’d be his wife instead of you!”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Oh!” Jessie choked, feeling the blood drain from her head. She stumbled back a step, rocked by the intruder’s bold claim. At the same instant, her vision of David dancing with a dark-haired woman in his arms blazed across her mind. She couldn’t remember that woman’s features clearly, but she’d been dark-haired with light coppery skin just like this one. Yet, Jessie recalled her as being quite feminine, nothing like this mannish creature.

  The brunette smirked hatefully and opened her mouth to say something more, but the tapping of a cane stopped her. Jessie turned and numbly met Reece’s gaze as he limped forward. He smiled at her then frowned at her antagonist.

  “Howdy, Lil,” he said, halting beside Jessie. “Thought I heard you out here.”

  “I had to come, Reece,” the Crawford woman said stridently. “I was out riding herd yesterday when he showed his face at our place. Pa nearly put a bullet in him. Would have if Uncle Jeb hadn’t stopped him.”

  “Your uncle’s always had a cooler head than your pa.”

  “Yeah, well, Jeb should have let Pa drill him. Damn, I just couldn’t believe you’d let him back on the River T. It’s cuz of her, ain’t it?” The sneering witch jabbed a thumb in Jessie’s direction.

  “You’ll show respect to Jessie while you’re in this house, Lil. I won’t have it any other way,” Reece barked, earning Jessie’s gratitude.

  The woman gritted her teeth angrily. “Fine. I’ll leave. Just tell me where he is. She won’t, and I’ve got a right to speak my piece to him. You know I do.”

  Frowning, Reece hesitated, then shrugged and said, “He rode out early. I expect Sul might know where to.”

  She nodded curtly, shot Jessie a killing glance, and slammed out of the house. Staring at the closed door, Jessie hugged herself and pressed her lips firmly together to stop them from quivering.

  “Don’t let her upset you, missy,” Reece said gruffly. “She’s hot under the collar, but it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

  “Sh-she said David would have m-married her if he hadn’t left because of the war. Is it true?”

  He sighed heavily. “Who knows? He was friends with her brother, and Lil tagged after the two of them from the time she was no bigger than a pup. Later, she set her cap for David, with her pa encouraging her. They’re our closest neighbors, understand, and Del Crawford got the notion Lil oughta tie the knot with David and combine our two spreads. Spoiled his plans, and hers, when David ran off to fight for the Federals.

  “Damned war spoiled a lot of things,” Reece added, scowling. “Lil’s brother, Toby, was killed. Losing that boy turned Del sour and pretty near killed Lil’s ma. Reckon you never get over a thing like that.”

  Seeing his thoughtful frown, Jessie knew he was speaking for himself as well as the Crawfords. In a very real sense, he had lost David to the war, thanks to his own stubborn refusal to forgive.

  After a moment, Reece rubbed his jaw and said gruffly, “One thing for sure, that darn gal needs to forget David and find her own man.”

  Jessie fervently agreed, but as she dejectedly returned to polishing silver, she kept hearing Lil Crawford say David had shown up yesterday at her family’s place. Looking for her? No doubt. Now she’d come to ‘speak her peace.’ But how long would it take for all that fury to turn into something else when she found him?

  Again, Jessie recalled her vision of David with the dark-haired woman in his arms. Was she destined to see it come to pass?

  David had returned home to help his father – she believed that – and, yes, to provide a home for her and the family he claimed to want. But had Lil Crawford also been on his mind? No, surely not. If he’d wanted her, he could have had her. She had evidently never married.

  But what if he hadn’t known that? Perhaps he’d found out only in the past few days that she was still available – still waiting for him. And he’d decided he wanted her. That would explain his sudden disinterest in his wife, Jessie thought with a sinking heart.

  Still, she didn’t know that for a fact. She should give him the benefit of a doubt. Tonight she would wait up for him, no matter how late it got, and she would ask him about Lil Crawford.

  As it turned out, she hadn’t that long to wait. David walked in halfway through supper – with dirt stains on his clothes and claw marks down one cheek. He looked as if he’d gone for a roll with an angry feline, and Jessie knew exactly who the she-cat was. She also had a strong suspicion as to how their violent reunion had ended.

  “Evening,” he said shortly. Offering no excuse for his offensive condition, he dragged out his chair and sat down.

  Jessie glanced at Reece, and from the critical way he looked David over, she was certain he shared her suspicion. Feeling humiliated and betrayed, she glared at David. “Ye might at least have cleaned yourself up, sir.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her as he stabbed a thick steak from the meat platter. “I would have if dinner wasn’t getting cold.”

  “Perhaps ye should have stayed away altogether, as ye have for the past two nights.”

  David knew she deserved an explanation, but he was in no mood for her temper. Ignoring his father’s frown, he scowled at Jessie. “You mad
about that or about Lil Crawford’s visit?”

  “So she told ye we met, did she? I’m sure she had some fine words to say on the subject.”

  “A few,” he said, dishing up a helping of Anna’s candied yams. Their rich aroma made his stomach growl.

  “And I suppose the two of ye discussed the good old days,” Jessie sniped, her tone more syrupy than the sweet potatoes.

  Noting her blazing blue eyes and the fork clutched like a weapon in her fist, he gave up filling his plate. “Among other things,” he drawled, deliberately baiting her.

  She dropped the fork with a clatter and jumped to her feet, almost tipping over her chair. “And I suppose that explains those scratches and the vile state of your clothes!”

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact it does.”

  “Bithiúnach! Scoundrel! Ye’re a dirty, shameless philanderer!” she shouted. Whirling around, she stormed out.

  Sighing, David closed his eyes for a moment. Then he met his father’s steady gaze. “I didn’t touch Lil, I swear, except to stop her from tearing my eyes out.”

  After a brief silence, Pa nodded. “I believe you.”

  David eyed him in surprise. They might have come to a fragile truce, but he hadn’t expected his word to be accepted so easily. Muttering, “Excuse me,” he got up, leaving his meal untouched, and went after Jessie.

  He found her pacing furiously back and forth in their bedroom.

  She halted when he walked in and narrowed her eyes at him. “Bastard!” she spat.

  “Bad-tempered shrew!” he fired back, slamming the door. “You couldn’t wait to hurl accusations at me, could you! Did you enjoy making a scene in front of my father?”

  “Aye, about as much as I enjoyed seein’ me husband come struttin’ in fresh from a toss with his whore!” she snarled, brogue in full evidence.

  David seriously considered thrashing her. “You evil-minded little witch! Why do you have to jump to the worst possible conclusion?”

  “Oh, evil-minded, is it? And what else am I to think when ye show up lookin’ like that?” She raked him with a scathing head to toe glance. “And when ye don’t even bother denyin’ ye were with her!”