by Stacy Henrie
Jennie pushed her way through the saloon doors and paused, allowing her eyes to adjust to the smoky, dim light. Though midmorning, the place still held a large crowd of patrons. Men sat at tables, drinking and playing cards, or lounged at the bar beside one of several saloon girls. The stench of alcohol and unwashed bodies made her cover her nose and reminded her all too well of the last time she’d been here, when she’d hired Nathan.
“Where is he?” Jennie hissed under her breath as she searched the room, trying to identify the faces beneath the assortment of hats. In one corner, a man and a girl with too much rouge sat close, a bottle of something between them. The girl whispered something in his ear, and the man threw back his head in uproarious laughter. Jennie recognized Nathan at once and frowned. So he fancies whichever pretty face is in front of him.
Ignoring the catcalls and attention she drew from the other men as she crossed the room, she strode purposely to Nathan’s table, determined to speak with him. He lifted his head as she approached his table.
“Done already?” He set down his shot glass and leaned back in his chair, chuckling. “You get faster every time.”
Jennie shook her head. “I didn’t go. That’s why I need to talk to you.” She threw a pointed glance at the saloon girl who was scowling at her. “Alone,” she added.
Nathan’s thick eyebrows drew together in annoyance and possible anger, but he nodded. “Excuse me,” he said to the girl.
He took Jennie’s elbow firmly in his hand and propelled her down a narrow hallway off the saloon’s main room. Releasing her arm, he regarded her with a surly expression in his dark eyes. “What’s so blasted important you skipped out on a perfectly good job? I needed that money, too, Jennie. You goin’ soft on me?”
“No.” She stared at her hands. “It doesn’t matter why I didn’t go. I came to see you because...I need another job.” She lifted her head, silently pleading for his help. “The bank sent me a notice—they’re calling my loan due. I have five weeks, Nathan. Five weeks to come up with the rest of the money or I lose my ranch.”
He cursed beneath his breath. “Those rich folks think they can run other people’s lives. That’s why I say forget ’em, forget the cattle and come away with me.”
Jennie bit back a comment about his lady friend waiting in the saloon. “Can you find me another job? I’ll take anything.”
“I’ll try to hunt up something new. But there might not be another robbery for weeks. The job today came sooner than I’d expected.”
He fingered a lock of her hair, but instead of exciting butterflies in her middle like Caleb’s touch, Jennie felt only tension. She crossed her arms and stepped back.
“You sure you want to go to all this trouble to keep that dying ranch?” he asked.
Jennie’s hands tightened into fists, but she forced herself to stay calm. She needed his support. “I won’t let it go without a good fight.”
Nathan laughed. “Well I’ll give you credit for that, love.”
“I don’t need credit. I need money.”
“Money’s not the only reason I’m risking my hide for you, you know.”
Jennie feigned interest in the wall beside her. Would he refuse to help her this time if she didn’t agree to run away with him? Without Nathan’s help she would have to hang around the saloon again, weaseling information about upcoming stage robberies from drunk and leering men. The thought made her stomach ache. What choice did she have, though? She wouldn’t go with him.
“I’m sorry, Nathan.” She drew herself up. “We want different things. So if you don’t wish to help me anymore—”
“Our business ain’t over yet. I’m makin’ too good of money with you, Jennie Jones, to quit now. At least when you follow through.”
She released her held breath. “Thank you, Nathan.”
He sauntered past her into the main part of the saloon, a sure sign their conversation had ended. “I’ll come as soon as I’ve found something,” he said in a low voice before he resumed his seat beside the pouting bar girl.
Without making eye contact with anyone, Jennie wove her way through the maze of tables and out the saloon. She blinked as she stepped into the street, telling herself it was the bright sunlight and not threatening tears. She walked in a daze back to Dandy.
Untying his reins, she noticed her forgotten purchases hadn’t been disturbed in her absence. Somewhere inside she felt relief, but the feeling quickly disappeared beneath numbing apathy. A new dress meant nothing when she faced the reality of losing everything she’d worked and fought for over the past seven months. She settled herself into the saddle and guided Dandy down the street toward home—and her impending fate.
Chapter Eleven
Seated in the saddle, Caleb rolled up his shirtsleeves and gave Saul a pat. “Sure is warm today, huh, boy?”
Most of the cattle rested in patches of shade, except for one that Caleb had rounded up twice already for straying too far. He removed his hat and used it to create a breeze. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied movement and turned toward the ranch a quarter mile away. Will rode toward him.
“Is it your turn?” Caleb called.
Will stopped his horse beside Saul. “Slow morning?”
“Mostly. Watch that one, though.” Caleb pointed at the wandering cow with a glare. “Old cuss has made a bolt for it twice.”
Will chuckled. “You’re just too slow, old man. I’m gonna take a nap.” He slouched in the saddle and pulled his hat low, feigning sleep.
“Then I’ll come to your funeral once your sister gets finished with you.” Caleb put his hat back on and pointed Saul in the direction of the ranch. “Did she say what she wanted me to do this afternoon?”
“Nope,” Will said, tipping up his hat. “She’s washing clothes in the yard, if you want to ask her.”
Nodding, Caleb rode back to the ranch. He was pleased Jennie had started giving Will more responsibility. The boy had a knack with the cattle and he’d be a great help to his sister once Caleb left to start his business.
After giving Saul his feed and water, Caleb went in search of Jennie to ask what task she wanted him to start on next. He found her in the yard between the house and the barn, hanging wash on the clothesline. She stood with her back to him, her red hair falling loose past her shoulders today. Not for the first time, he wondered what her hair would feel like to the touch.
“Jennie,” he said as he stepped closer.
She whirled around, her hand to her throat. “Caleb, you scared me.”
“Sorry.”
She’d been more distracted the past week and a half, ever since her trip into town. Instead of visiting with him and her family after supper, she would excuse herself and go outside alone. He’d gone to the door once and saw her leaning against the corral fence, her chin on her hands.
“Will’s watching the cattle. What would you like me to do next?”
She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “Did you get lunch?”
“Your grandmother packed me something to eat.”
“We could use some more wood.”
“Chopping wood it is then.” Caleb started to walk away, but he changed his mind and turned back. “Are you all right, Jennie? Not feeling sick or anything, are you?”
“No, no.” She reached for one of Will’s shirts and pinned it to the line. “I’m fine, really. Just a lot on my mind. Things will be better soon, I’m sure of it.”
With a nod, he left, unsure what more to say. Her words sounded positive, but he sensed the hope missing from them. Maybe her concerns were money related. He knew the ranch wasn’t anywhere near thriving like it once had been. Not for the first time, he considered giving Jennie the money he’d saved so far. Then she could buy more cattle and food and hired help.
He dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it came. Jennie wouldn’t accept his help. He’d been surprised she’d used the money he had given her for a new dress. No, it was better that he kept that money. He
needed it for his business, for the chance to start fresh somewhere and build a life for himself.
Caleb located an ax in the barn and went to the dwindling woodpile. He placed a piece of wood on top of the nearby chopping block and swung down the ax. The log split in half and he tossed the pieces onto the pile.
Sweat soon dripped down his neck and chest, but he reveled in the hard labor, something he missed when he was just sitting on his horse watching over the cattle.
At the sound of an approaching horse, Caleb lowered his ax. Was there a problem with the herd? But it wasn’t Will riding toward the ranch. The rider was taller and Caleb didn’t recognize the horse.
Should he move closer to Jennie? In all the weeks he’d been here, the family had never had a visitor. Will’s words from Caleb’s first night at the ranch repeated in his mind: The only man that’s come around recently just talks to Jennie...he seems a bit rough, though. Could this be the stranger Will had been talking about?
Frowning, Caleb took a defensive step toward the horse and rider. “Howdy,” he said, keeping his voice light, friendly.
“Afternoon.” The stranger tipped his hat at Caleb, but he nudged his horse past him.
Something about the man’s black eyes and square face sparked familiarity in Caleb’s memory, but he couldn’t think where he would have met him. Certainly not in the saloons the stranger likely frequented.
“Is there something we can do for you?” Caleb called after him, annoyed at the man’s presumptuous attitude.
He pulled back on the reins and twisted in the saddle to peer down at Caleb. “You are...”
“The family’s hired help. And you’d be?”
“Here to carry out some business with Miss Jones.” The stranger turned and resumed riding toward the house.
Fighting the urge to follow, Caleb forced himself to pick up his ax and the next piece of wood. He kept watch, though, from the corner of his eye.
The man dismounted at the house and walked toward Jennie. When she saw him, her face registered surprise and something else. Relief, delight? She led him around to the back of the house, out of sight. Caleb frowned. It wasn’t his business who the stranger was or what his dealings were with Jennie, and yet, he couldn’t squelch the protectiveness he felt for her and her family.
Is she kissing him, too? he wondered. The possibility brought a twinge of jealousy, something he hadn’t felt in years. He shook his head at his foolishness. Jennie wasn’t his girl. Maybe he’d been working too long in the sun.
He reached into his pocket to pull out his bandanna. His fingers brushed the slip of paper he’d used to practice writing his note to Jennie. It reminded him of another paper he’d kept in his pocket for months until he gave up bounty hunting. Now it resided in his saddlebag up in his room. He’d memorized the wanted-poster’s contents long ago—the bearded face and dark eyes, the names Otis Nathan Blaine or Black-Eyed Blaine.
Caleb stared at the corner of the house where the stranger and Jennie had disappeared. The two men had some similarities, like their dark eyes and rough appearance. Should he be worried? But no, how could they be the same person? This man was clearly someone Jennie knew, and surely she wouldn’t be associating with a wanted stage thief.
Removing his bandanna, Caleb wiped his face and neck, then resumed his work. His shirtfront was wet with perspiration by the time the stranger returned to his horse and rode away.
Caleb kept chopping wood, though curiosity nearly drove him to find Jennie and ask her what was going on. He refrained, though, not wanting to get her ire up again for treading where he shouldn’t. She’d been unusually quiet the past week, but he preferred that to having her fired-up angry at him.
“Would you like a drink?”
He looked up to see Jennie holding a water bucket and ladle. “That’d be nice. Thank you.”
He accepted the ladle and drank the entire thing. The water felt delicious on his dry throat. He passed back the ladle and she filled it again.
“You’ve got quite the pile of wood already. You’re faster at that than I am at the washing.”
Caleb dumped the water over his head and shook it from his hair. “It helped that I didn’t have a visitor,” he said dropping the ladle into her bucket. He regretted the words at once, but she didn’t lash back at him. Instead she blushed.
“Yes, well, that was unexpected.”
He waited for her to say more, but she didn’t. “Just be careful, Jennie.”
“What do you mean?” Her brown eyes narrowed, and the old expression of mistrust flitted across her pink cheeks.
“Be sure he treats you right. You deserve that.”
Now her face went crimson. “Not that it’s any of your business, but that man is not my beau. He’s helping me with a financial venture. It should pull the ranch out of its poverty, if all goes well.”
Relief filled his gut at her words, despite exciting her temper again. “What is it?”
“I’d like to see if it works out before I say anything—to anyone.”
Caleb respected that. “I’m glad to hear you might be able to make this place great again. It would be something to see.”
“Do I detect a fondness for cattle ranching?” she asked, her question full of amusement. She hadn’t bantered with him like this in days and he’d missed it.
“Not a chance. I’d rather take bounty on a bunch of smelly bandits than a branding iron to a bunch of cows.”
She laughed. “What do you know about taking bounty?”
Too late Caleb realized his slip. “Thanks for the water. I ought to finish up with this wood.”
“Caleb?” The merriment on her face died at once. “What do you know about taking bounty?” she repeated.
Running a hand through his damp hair, he blew out his breath in frustration. He didn’t want to recall those days. “It doesn’t matter now. That job’s over.”
“Y-you were a bounty hunter?” She matched his steps back to the woodpile, the bucket still in hand. “You didn’t tell me this when I asked about your other jobs.”
Why did she sound so upset?
“I didn’t see the need. I quit that job long before we met.” He picked up another piece of wood and set it on the chopping block.
“How come?”
“Does it really matter?” He didn’t bother hiding his frustration as he grabbed up the ax. Jennie stood rooted to her spot near his elbow, her chin lifted in stubbornness. Apparently she wasn’t going anywhere. Had he really admired her tenacity earlier? “I shot someone, all right?”
“Don’t you have to do that sometimes as a bounty hunter?”
“Not necessarily. A good bounty hunter should never have to kill anyone. You’re just supposed to bring the crooks in.” The images of that day rolled over him again and he pushed aside his piece of wood to sit on the chopping block. He stared at the ax in his grip. “I killed a man. It was ruled self-defense by the sheriff, but I stopped after that. I never want to be in that position again. That’s why I keep my guns unloaded in my holster. It might seem foolish, but it’s to remind me never to rob another man of his life, however ill spent. I still relive that day in my nightmares.”
Jennie set down her bucket and knelt in front of him. She looked as though she might touch his arm, but she lowered her hand back to her side just as quickly.
“Is that what you were dreaming about—that night on the range?” she asked.
He nodded. Her eyes were almost on the same level as his and he found himself gazing into those dark depths. He hadn’t told anyone his reason for quitting his job as a bounty hunter, not even his parents. What was it about Jennie that made him share it with her?
“You’re a good man, Caleb.”
He shrugged off her compliment. If he’d truly been a good man back then, he wouldn’t have let hatred and vengeance rule his life so completely. The death of that bandit had brought him up short and helped him find God again, find greater peace with Liza’s death.
&nb
sp; “I’m trying—just like all of us. Going to church helps a lot.”
Jennie stood and hoisted the water bucket. “In that case, maybe I’d better go with you this Sunday,” she said in a rush, her eyes focused on the dirt at her feet.
His eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
She banged his leg with the bucket, sloshing water onto his boot. “Don’t act so surprised or I might change my mind.”
Climbing to his feet, Caleb smiled. “So you coming or not?”
“I’ll go,” she said, returning his smile. “I’m always up for a challenge.”
He laughed at hearing his own words turned against him. Jennie walked away and Caleb placed his wood back on the block. He whistled a tune as he added to the woodpile, feeling happier than he’d been in a long time.
* * *
After dressing with care in her new brown silk, Jennie stepped out of the house Sunday morning to go to church with the family. The nerves in her stomach nearly made her bolt upstairs and hide in her room, but Caleb was sure to drag her back outside, even kicking and screaming.
She fiddled with her hands, her skirt, her fingernails the entire ride into town, her anxiety too great to make conversation with Caleb and her family. Thankfully the others seemed to understand the source of her quiet and didn’t press her to talk.
Would the people at church remember her—or worse, her mother? Would they accept Jennie as readily as they’d accepted her brother and grandmother? As the church came into sight, Jennie struggled to breathe normally.
“You look real nice in your dress,” Caleb said when he helped her down from the wagon. He extended his elbow to her, and after a brief hesitation, she linked her arm through his.
She kept her chin up in feigned confidence as she took a seat beside Caleb and the family in one of the middle pews. The meeting started soon after, and Jennie found her jitters returning full force. Could she make it through the entire meeting? She chewed her thumbnail as the opening hymn started. Caleb nudged her with his shoulder and pointed at her mouth. She flushed and dropped her hand to her lap, but she was still too filled with nervous energy to sing.
