The Irish Westerns Boxed Set

by C. H. Admirand

“Aye, but only for not recognizing me,” Jessi said. “The list I’m thinkin’ of is getting’ longer by the moment.”

  Without asking what was on her list, Doc said good-bye and left a small brown bottle of laudanum with Mrs. Swenson. “To be used sparingly, and only if she’s in pain.”

  “Thank ye, Doc,” Jessi called out, wondering what the man’s hurry was.

  Mrs. Swenson noticed it as well and asked outright, “What’s the hurry?”

  “Didn’t I tell you?” the doctor sounded harassed. “John Reilly’s in my office, out of his mind with a head injury.”

  Jessi’s heart dropped to her feet. “Did I do that to the poor man?”

  The doctor shook his head. “You only bruised the man’s jaw. It was the rock his head landed on that bruised his skull.”

  “Well, then, why are ye standin’ here when ye should be lookin’ after me John?”

  “Your John?” Mrs. Swenson whispered.

  Jessi ignored her and called out as the doctor was about to close the back door, “Can I come with ye? Just to see for meself that he’s not sufferin’?”

  The doctor nodded. “Grab your shawl and we’ll go.”

  Mrs. Swenson slipped the shawl off her shoulders and wrapped it around Jessi. “Here, take mine,” she said. “And don’t use that hand!”

  “I won’t,” Jessi called out over her shoulder. “I’ll be back to set yer table.”

  “Is he feverish?” she asked Doc, needing to know.

  “Not when I left him,” the doctor assured her.

  “Was he in much pain?”

  When the doctor didn’t answer quickly enough, Jessi started imagining all sorts of ailments that would accompany a hard knock on the head. “I didn’t mean to hit him so hard,” she whispered. “But his mother told me…” She stopped herself in time.

  “Mrs. Reilly told you what?” the doctor urged.

  “How far is it to yer office?”

  “Just up the road.”

  “My poor Johnny,” Jessi whispered. “Yer mother’ll skin me alive if I’ve kilt ye.”

  Doc looked at her and shook his head. “I doubt you’ll have to worry. I’ve been reassured that John Reilly has a head of granite.”

  “Oh,” Jessi said, “so ye know his mother?”

  Doc laughed. “No, but I happen to know a couple of his good friends.”

  Jessi tilted her head to one side. “Would one of them be a woman?”

  Doc nodded. “Three of them are.”

  Jessi’s stomach clenched. “Any of them from back home?”

  Again Doc nodded. “One of them came all the way from County Clare.”

  “Did she?” Jessi asked hoarsely. “So then, he won’t be needin’ the likes of me, then.”

  Doc opened the door to his office, took her by the arm and guided her inside. All rational thought flew from her mind as she stared at the couch where the man she’d loved for more than half her life lay perfectly still, the fine line of his jaw marred by a purple bruise the size of her fist.

  “Lord, forgive me for me temper,” she prayed.

  John shifted and turned to look at her. “He might, lass, but I’m still thinkin’ it over.”

  Chapter Five

  Reilly couldn’t say what surprised him more, the fact that Doc had left him to fend for himself with a head injury, or that he’d returned with an apologetic Jessi Fahy in tow.

  Judging from the way her mouth hung open, he’d surprised her as well. He’d heard them talking before they’d opened the door, but their voices were so low, he hadn’t been able to distinguish any words. Needing to make her suffer for the blow to his manly pride, he intended to pay her back one way or another while he ferreted out the truth of why she’d traveled so far just to see him.

  The first thought he’d had was probably closest to the truth, that his mother was somehow involved. He’d known when he’d written his last letter to her that she’d be disappointed that he wasn’t coming back, but he thought she’d understand given his need to rove, the need to travel. Now if he could just get Jessi to admit the truth, he’d be satisfied and then he’d…he paused to think about what he’d do next, amazed to find he had no idea.

  “Now Reilly,” Doc said slowly. “Miss Fahy was frantic when she heard the news that you’d suffered an injury to your brain and insisted that she accompany me, though she can’t use her right hand until the swelling goes down.”

  Reilly didn’t think he’d be feeling better anytime soon, but the news that the blow to his pride had caused Jessi to lose the use of her bony little fist had quite an amazing effect. He felt lighter somehow. He nodded. “It would do the lass good to remember that there are consequences for that nasty temper of hers.”

  “Nasty?” She sputtered, and Reilly found there was something to smile about after all.

  “Aye, lass, ye’ve always had a mean streak when ye’re riled.”

  The way her cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink satisfied his need to needle her, but he wasn’t finished with her. She’d damaged his reputation and nicked his pride, and for that he’d see that she apologized before he’d eased up. If Flynn were here, he’d understand; the man always did, where women were concerned.

  “And here I was worried that ye’d injured your poor wee brain.”

  Pushing up until he was reclining instead of lying down, Reilly felt more in control than he had since bumping into her earlier that afternoon. “So ye’ve traveled all the way from County Cork to remind me that I’d taught you well how to toss a punch?”

  Jessi looked mad enough to spit. He’d managed to get beneath her skin with that last comment, but he wasn’t finished. His temper was still on the rise. “Well, now that ye’ve reminded me, lass, when will ye be leavin’?”

  His words struck her like a blow. Her face crumpled beneath the force of his direct hit. Her lip trembled until she bit down on it. He winced, knowing it had to hurt like the devil, but she didn’t cry out, and then he realized why as his gaze lifted from her full lips to her tear-filled eyes. She was in pain, but it wasn’t from the bite to her lip. Was the blow to her pride? She’d always matched him in that.

  “Jessi, lass.” He swung his legs off the edge of the sofa and struggled to his feet, but she’d already beat him to the door.

  “Well, now, Reilly,” Doc said with a nod in the direction Jessi had run off to. “I’d say you more than paid that young woman back.”

  Reilly felt like the scum that gathered at the top of the pot when his mother used to boil up calves feet to make calves’ foot jelly. “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he said, slumping back down on the couch. “I just wanted…” He let his words trail off. He didn’t know what he wanted or when his intentions had combined with his boiling temper.

  “Whether it was what you intended or not,” Doc said sternly, “your words hit their mark, and I’d venture to say that young woman won’t be troubling you any longer.”

  Reilly dropped his aching head into his hands. “But she traveled across the ocean and then some, just to come see me.”

  Doc patted his shoulder. “And just what reason did she give for making such a journey?”

  Reilly opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. Why had she? Was there bad news from home that he needed to hear in person? That had to be it. What other reason could there possibly be?

  “She may have news from home,” he said, looking up at the formidable figure of the town doctor.

  “Why didn’t she simply write you a letter?” Doc demanded, walking over to close the door Jessi had left ajar when she’d run out. “It would certainly be less dangerous.”

  Reilly’s stomach heaved as he relived the thoughts he’d had earlier about little Jessi Fahy being in danger. “Aye, ’twould.”

  “When you figure it out,” Doc said, “you go after her and see if she’ll be willing to forgive you.”

  “Forgive me?” Reilly exploded. “ ’Tis my forgiveness that needs to be received by the likes of her,” he gr
ound out. “She hurt my—” He’d nearly blurted out what Doc had been waiting for him to say. The lass had hurt his pride. He’d be double damned before he’d give in and say what the doctor expected him to. Aye, he’d been cruel, and for that he’d apologize, but she still needed to beg his forgiveness for damaging his pride.

  “If she’s still here tomorrow, you might want to seek her out at the boarding house.”

  Reilly’s heart lurched in his chest and began to pound in earnest. “What do ye mean, if she’s still here?”

  “Did you hit your head harder than I thought? What do you think I mean?” Doc asked slowly, watching him like he was fly landing on a bowl of fresh-churned butter, waiting to reach out and snuff out his life.

  “She just arrived.”

  “And have you given her any reason to stay?”

  That blow was below the belt and painful. “Not exactly,” Reilly stammered. “But she—”

  “Before you say anything else you might regret,” Doc warned, “you might want to consider someone else beside yourself.”

  “She’s not the injured party here,” Reilly insisted.

  “That may well be,” Doc said slowly, as if he were speaking to someone with half a brain. “But for someone who’s traveled the great distance she has just to speak with you,” he continued, “she deserves that chance without you slinging insults at her.”

  Chastised, Reilly nodded. “Aye, ye’ve the right of it, Doc.” He looked up and watched as the physician measured out a dose from a familiar dark-brown bottle. “I don’t want any laudanum,” he told the man.

  “I’ll dilute it with water,” Doc promised. “But if you’re going to get any rest tonight for the battle you’re going to be facing tomorrow,” he said, stirring a glass and handing it to Reilly, “you’ll take the laudanum and thank me after you’ve apologized for damaging that poor young woman’s tender feelings.”

  “Maybe I should go after her,” Reilly said, doing his best to resist the glass Doc was pushing toward him.

  “Tomorrow’s time enough,” Doc said, motioning for Reilly to drink up.

  Once he did, shuddering at the taste, Doc nodded. “You may need to ride quite a distance to catch up with her. You’ll thank me that you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

  Reilly wondered how in the hell he’d manage that when he knew his conscience would keep him up all night worrying that Jessi would never speak to him again.

  Two hours later, Reilly was still listening to the rhythmic sound of Doc’s snores, marking time by the ticking of the clock on Doc’s mantelpiece. Replaying the conversation with Jessi all over again, he winced. He’d been harsh. Remembering that he asked when she was leaving, he faced the worst of it. He’d been cruel, something he’d never been before.

  “Why did I let the lass get under me skin?”

  But no one answered. He doubted God in His infinite wisdom was listening to anything Reilly would have to say from this moment forward…unless he found Jessi and apologized before the lass had been permanently damaged by his cruelty.

  Knowing he’d not be finding his sleep this night, he rolled out of bed, surprised that he felt steadier. The thin gruel Doc let him eat earlier had a surprising settling effect on his tortured stomach. “Maybe she’ll be lying awake, like me.” With that thought foremost in mind, Reilly found his hat and slipped out of Doc’s office without making a sound.

  Walking slowly at first, until he was certain he wouldn’t keel over from the motion after lying still for so long, he quickened his pace. Standing outside Swenson’s Boarding House, he wondered what he’d do now. All of the windows were dark. No one was awake. Turning to go, the muffled thud of something being dropped had him turning back.

  “I wonder.” He slipped around the back of Mrs. Swenson’s place. Would he run into a certain Miss Fahy, who’d been slipping out of her bedroom window for as long as Reilly could remember? Back home, whenever she had, he’d frowned at her, bullied her, and finally yelled at her, but she’d never turned back, intent on following behind as he and his friends ran wild in their youth.

  The tiny form straightening from where she must have landed in a heap next to the water barrel had to be his Jessi. He’d not make the same mistake twice in one day. Before he could wonder why in his mind he’d already claimed her, she’d passed three houses and was about to pass the fourth. If he were going to keep her out of trouble, he’d better get a move on.

  * * *

  Jessi’s pride throbbed in time with her mangled hand. At least she’d remembered everything John taught her and kept her thumb on the outside of her fist. Otherwise, she’d be nursing a broken thumb along with her heart.

  “And he thinks I’m cruel,” she huffed, as she walked around the back of the house. “I’m not the one who said hurtful things,” she grumbled. She blinked away tears she had no intention of shedding for the man she no longer wanted to love. Wasn’t it just her luck? Her love was unshakeable. Drawing in a deep breath, she knew she’d be doomed to love the man for the rest of her life.

  Head down, muttering as she went, Jessi never noticed the large shadow following closely behind her. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me,” she whispered. Before she let that thought weigh her down, she straightened to her full height of five feet, three inches, and squared her shoulders. “Well, then, I won’t have anything to do with him.”

  Now that she’d made the decision, she felt better. It was as if a weight had been removed that had been pressing down on her. One thought nearly blinded her. “Mrs. Reilly.” What in the name of heaven would she tell John’s mother when she arrived back home, still single, while the object of their plan remained an ocean and three-quarters of a continent away?

  “I’ll think of something.” In her heart she knew she wouldn’t be able to lie to Mrs. Reilly. The woman was smart, crafty with it. Hadn’t Mrs. Reilly come up with the plan to get John back home? She’d best start working out her explanation. It had been part of their plan for Jessi to take advantage of John Reilly’s weak chin. That part had worked amazingly well, although it was supposed to be a last resort, not the first thing she did when she arrived.

  What hadn’t been part of their grand plan was John’s getting hurt and having to stay overnight at the doctor’s home. Nor had the ensuing argument been part of their grand plan. John was supposed to be overjoyed to see a familiar face from back home, grab her in a hard hug and never let her go.

  “More’s the pity,” she said. “Not since the night he rescued me from the Norman tower has he held me to his heart.” Walking swiftly, she knew she’d lost that chance forever. Forever was a long time to love someone—longer still to pine for him.

  By the time she’d walked up and down the street twice, she realized, walking wasn’t going to work. She’d not find her sleep this night. If only she could talk to John before she returned to her room at the boarding house.

  This wasn’t Ireland, and she wasn’t thirteen years old any longer. She’d learned to be more circumspect in the way she walked and talked, hoping to change what her mother claimed were her changeling ways. If she were home, she’d walk across the fields by their cottage, or maybe head on over to the Reillys’ cottage, hoping to catch Mrs. Reilly or Aiden milking their cow.

  Looking up at the sky, she wondered if they’d be awake right now or if they’d be asleep and dreaming. She’d have to find out. Surely there was someone knowledgeable about that sort of thing here in Colorado. Perhaps she’d ask Doc. He’d been sympathetic to her plight and might be willing to talk to her about such things. Wouldn’t it be grand now to be awake and looking up at the sun, knowing that Mrs. Reilly and Aiden were doing the same?

  But first, she needed to know why John had struck out at her with his terrible words. Had she pushed him to it? Aiden had often warned her that she’d drive a strong man to drink. No, she thought, that wasn’t right. Aiden had said she’d drive a saint to drink. Or was it—?

  Well, whatever he’d said didn’t m
atter now. Nothing mattered now. She’d traveled all this way to come up against the brick wall of John Reilly’s bullheaded ways and stubborn pride.

  Pride.

  That one word struck home. Had she injured his pride so badly that he’d said those awful things to her? Did he really want her to turn around and go back home to Ireland? How could she find out?

  Maybe she should seek out Mrs. Swenson, or the woman she’d mentioned from County Clare. Maggie? Yes, that was her name, Maggie.

  Suddenly weary from her emotional upheaval and the last hour spent walking up and down the main street of Emerson, Jessi thought she saw something large shift into the darkness.

  Was someone bent on mischief or was he there for a darker purpose? “Is there anyone there?”

  No one answered her question, and nothing moved. Maybe it had been her imagination. Beyond tired, her mind was playing tricks on her. With a heavy heart, she turned and headed back toward the boarding house. Two houses away, she noticed the welcoming light streaming toward her, beckoning to her. Mrs. Swenson seemed to be someone she could call a friend.

  Just because John Reilly wanted her to leave didn’t mean she had to. Maybe she should stay. The man had changed in his appearance, but he still made her heart stop. Besides, she wasn’t ready to leave just yet.

  Can ye face him day after day and not ache all the way to yer bones?

  She’d waited this long for the man; maybe she was meant to wait a bit longer. Maybe she could make him suffer. There were bound to be a few single men in a town this size. That thought had her smiling as she trudged up the back steps.

  “Jessi!” Mrs. Swenson stood with her hand to her heart while a large form shifted at the stable, catching her attention.

  “Marshal?” Jessi was surprised to see him here at this hour. “Isn’t a bit early to come calling?”

  He grinned at her and turned toward the woman standing in front of the stove and held out his hand to her. “I’m not calling. I live here.”

  “Here?” Jessi couldn’t keep the squeak of surprise from her voice.

  “Yes.” From where he sat, he reeled Mrs. Swenson in, until she was tucked against his side and his arm rested around her waist.