The Irish Westerns Boxed Set

by C. H. Admirand

  Inga’s face paled and she swayed on her feet, bracing a hand against her stomach. Jessi reached for her and wrapped her arms around the much-taller woman before Inga fainted.

  “Doc!” Jessi rasped. “ ’Tis Inga.”

  The marshal reached them before the doctor. Inga protested, but he ignored her. Nodding for Jessi to let go, he lifted Inga into his arms.

  “ ’Tis all me fault,” Jessi said, tears streaming down her face. She’d done this to the one person in town who’d stood beside her and faced down her accuser. “Can ye forgive me, Inga?”

  The other woman shook her head. “My fault,” Inga whispered. “I’m too old and should have known better.”

  Jessi grabbed hold of the marshal’s arm to stop him. “What is she jabberin’ about? Too old for what?”

  Doc spoke to Inga and motioned for the marshal to follow him. “She’ll need a woman friend,” Doc said. “Best come with us, Miss Fahy.”

  Feeling as if she truly were the ruination of the best woman in town, Jessi dragged her feet, but obliged the doctor.

  Inga wasn’t unconscious, she realized, just weak as a kitten. She couldn’t guess at the woman’s age; she just knew she was older than Jessi’s own nearly nineteen years. Praying silently, she asked God to spare her friend from whatever ailed her.

  At Doc’s office, the marshal gently lowered Inga to the couch and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “Where does it hurt, love?”

  Inga grimaced as if she were in pain, but didn’t open her eyes.

  Jessi could feel the tension pouring off the marshal and wished Inga would open her eyes so she could see how he truly felt about her.

  “What happened?” Doc asked.

  Not wanting to say the wrong thing in front of the marshal, Jessi asked, “Can I speak to ye in private, Doc?”

  Doc shook his head. “There’s not a lot of time, I’ve got to check on Peterson, and I need to know what happened to Mrs. Swenson so I can treat her.”

  Jessi looked down at her feet, then over to where her friend lay. Inga’s eyes were open and the woman was staring at her, pleading with her not to repeat what she’d said earlier.

  Knowing what she had to do, Jessi told the Doc, “We were talking, and she looked like she had a pain in her stomach.” Jessi didn’t lie. It did look that way. What she didn’t say was that it was the question Jessi asked that caused the poor woman to crumble.

  Marshal Justiss paced by the door. Every once in a while, he’d look over at Inga. When he couldn’t take it any longer, he strode over to her and demanded, “Are you pregnant?”

  Inga dissolved into tears and turned her head to face the wall.

  “When were you planning on telling me?” he ground out.

  She cried harder and louder.

  Jessi rushed to her side, wrapped her arms around Inga and blasted the marshal with her temper. “Can’t ye see it’s yer lack of love and devotion to the woman that has her sufferin’ so?”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. “Are ye so unfeelin’ that ye won’t ask a proud woman like herself to wed?”

  It was the marshal’s turn to pale. “I—that is…I’d thought about it, but—”

  Jessi gently wiped Inga’s flushed face and ignored the marshal. “Thinkin’ isn’t the same as doin’. Why don’t ye go back to yer duties? I’ll take care of Inga.”

  He ignored the women and ground out, “I’ll be back in an hour, Doc.”

  Doc nodded, but was already reaching for a glass and his famous restorative tonic.

  Jessi shook her head as the marshal slammed the door behind him. “He’ll come around, Inga.”

  “I should have told him,” Inga whispered.

  “How long have you known?” Doc asked.

  “A month or so.”

  “The man’s proud,” Doc said. “He deserved to know.”

  “I was going to tell him,” Inga said. “But he never once spoke about marriage or how long he was going to be in Emerson.”

  Jessi’s heart ached for Inga. Her own problems seemed trivial compared to those of Inga and the marshal. “I can stay with her as long as she needs me, Doc. I’ve a strong back and me hand’s nearly healed.”

  Doc nodded. “Here,” he said, motioning for Jessi to move as he helped Inga sit up. “Drink this. It’ll give you a little energy.”

  “What’s in it?” Jessi asked.

  Doc shook his head. “Don’t you trust me?”

  Jessi felt the blood rush from her head. “Of course, I do,” she said. “ ’Twas a simple question.”

  “So was mine,” he said, bringing the bottle over to Jessi. “Open it and take a sniff.”

  She did as he bade her. “Smells of herbs and flowers.”

  He nodded. “That’s what’s in it: herbs and flowers, nothing that would harm Inga or her baby.”

  “I thought I was too old.”

  Doc shook his head at her. “I’ve known you for ten years, Inga, but it was never important to ask before. Have you been pregnant before and lost the baby?”

  She sniffed. “Three times. After that we stopped trying.”

  Doc rubbed his chin with one hand. “We’ll have to make sure you take care not to overdo. What happened the three times before? Was each time the same, or were the circumstances different?”

  Inga looked so lost, Jessi walked back over to the couch and made her move over so they were sitting together and Jessi could wrap her arm around Inga.

  It seemed to be all the woman needed to tell her story. “We were only married a year. Lars was so excited and we couldn’t wait for the baby to arrive.”

  “And then?” Jessi prompted.

  “I had a terrible cramp low in my belly and then there was all this blood. . . .”

  “How far along were you?” Doc had a small notebook out and was jotting down notes as Inga spoke.

  “Not long. I’d only just noticed. . . . Two months?”

  “The other times?”

  “The same thing happened.”

  “Were you careful, or did you continue lifting and doing heavy chores.”

  Inga stiffened and Jessi rubbed a hand across her back. “I’m a strong woman.”

  “Stubborn as well,” Doc said, making another notation. “How old are you?”

  “Why?”

  Jessi couldn’t help it; she chuckled. If possible, Inga grew more rigid beside her. Jessi said, “Ye sound just like me ma—”

  “I may be older than you,” Inga huffed, “but I’m not old enough to be your mother unless I birthed you when I was ten.”

  Jessi nodded. “ ’Twould be a bit young to start bearing children,” she said. “Were ye?”

  Inga realized what Jessi was trying to do: distract her. Inga relaxed enough to snort. “I was sixteen when I lost our first, seventeen when I lost the last.”

  Doc wrote the information down and looked up, waiting. “That’s close together for three pregnancies. Didn’t the doctor caution you to wait?”

  Inga shrugged. “There wasn’t a doctor nearby at the time, so no. No one cautioned us.”

  Doc shook his head and held his pen poised over his book. Finally he asked, “Well?”

  “Well what?” Inga demanded.

  “Just tell the man yer bloody age!” Jessi covered her mouth with both hands, horrified that she’d used such language in front of Inga and the doctor. “Forgive me,” she begged. “ ’Tis me temper.”

  They all laughed and Inga finally admitted, “I’ll be twenty-nine in November.”

  Doc nodded and wrote the number down. “Now, let’s straighten out a few of your misconceptions.”

  Inga squirmed next to Jessi. She took a hold of Inga’s hand, squeezed it and pulled it into her lap. “We’re listening.”

  Doc cleared his throat. “I don’t normally speak to unmarried women about such things.”

  Jessi nodded. “Me ma told me all about what’s between a married man and woman. Ye won’t be shockin’ me
tender sensibilities, if that’s yer fear.”

  Doc smiled. “Fine. First of all, Inga, it’s not your first pregnancy. Your body has already gone through part of the process, so it won’t be such a shock to your system, even though you are older than most women with a first baby. This is technically your fourth.”

  Inga nodded. Jessi noticed the tears gathering and handed her the handkerchief Doc had handed her earlier. Inga wiped her eyes. “What’s the rest?”

  “You’ll need to be very careful for the next few months,” he cautioned. “No lifting laundry baskets, washtubs, kettles. Nothing.”

  “I’ve a boarding house to run and guests to feed and care for.”

  “Do you want this baby?” Doc asked quietly.

  Inga sat so still for so long, Jessi was afraid she wouldn’t answer.

  “More than you know.”

  Doc nodded and placed the small notebook on his desk. “Then we’ll get you help.”

  “Am I invisible, then?” Jessi demanded. “I’m perfectly capable of helpin’.”

  “Thank you.” Inga smiled at her through a sheen of tears. “I’ll never be able to repay you.”

  Jessi kissed Inga’s cheek. “Ye already have.”

  “Now,” Doc said, placing his hands behind his back. “What about the marshal?”

  “He doesn’t want to marry me.”

  It must have cost Inga a lot to admit it, although Jessi didn’t agree with her and vowed to get the answer out of the marshal before the day was over.

  “It’s not necessary to have a husband in order to raise a child,” Doc admitted. “Easier, but not necessary.”

  “She has fine friends,” Jessi volunteered. “Maggie, Bridget, Pearl and meself.”

  Inga smiled and sighed. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Ye already have, Inga. It’s our turn to help ye out. Do you want me to ask John to ride out to Bridget and ask her to pay ye a visit?”

  Doc shook his head. “She’s coming to see me later today. I’ll send her over after I make sure she’s not overdoing.”

  “That’d be grand.” Jessi thanked the doctor and asked if she could take Inga home.

  “Are you up to walking?”

  Inga assured them she was and surprised them both by accepting the tonic the doctor handed to her without arguing.

  “If the marshal wants to speak to me,” Doc offered. “I’ll be here.”

  “I’m not speaking to him right now,” Inga told him.

  Doc sighed. “You’ll have to sooner or later.”

  Jessi promised herself the marshal would be speaking to Inga by suppertime, after she set the man straight as to what had caused Inga to collapse. Jessi walked with a much-steadier Inga to the door. Inga walked outside, but Jessi hung back.

  “I know what’s troublin’ herself,” she whispered to Doc. “And I’ll be tellin’ the marshal so he can fix it.”

  The older man didn’t look surprised by what Jessi was saying. “And can he fix it?”

  Jessi beamed at him. “Quicker than ye know.”

  “That’s fine, then,” Doc said. “Don’t let her walk by herself. She might still be light-headed.”

  “I’ll watch over her, Doc,” Jessi promised. “Be ready to tell the marshal what ye’ve told herself.”

  Doc waved and closed the door.

  “Time for bed,” Jessi announced cheerfully walking toward the boarding house. She felt better by the moment and only just now realized how much she missed helping people by fixing what was wrong. Aiden would call it interfering, but what did he know? He was a man, after all.

  “I’m not that tired. Besides, I’ve got work to do.”

  “No,” Jessi declared, slipping her hand beneath Inga’s elbow. “Ye’ve got me, and I’ll be doin’ yer work for the next little while.”

  “But I’m strong—”

  “The strongest,” Jessi agreed.

  “I can’t just sit still,” Inga protested.

  “Ye can sit and peel potatoes, slice bread, and do yer mendin’.”

  Inga sighed. “I’m afraid.”

  Jessi squeezed her closer and whispered, “I am too.”

  “What if I lose this baby, too?”

  “I don’t think God would be that cruel.” Jessi prayed He was listening and offered to leave John Reilly alone if that was His plan. She’d even leave Emerson after Inga had her baby, in order to let John live his life the way he wanted to.

  “I hope not.”

  “Best not to borrow trouble when ye already have a bucketful.”

  “I’m glad you’re here, Jessi Fahy.”

  Jessi beamed up at Inga. “Faith, don’t I know it.”

  They were laughing when they reached the back porch of the boarding house.

  Marshal Justiss was leaning against one of the columns. Inga lifted her chin in the air and swept past him.

  “I want to talk to you, Inga.”

  Jessi shook her head at him. “I’ve somethin’ important to tell ye. Can ye come back in an hour, once I’ve settled herself on the sofa, or in the kitchen on a chair, with her mendin’?”

  Marshal Justiss clenched his jaw tightly, and she noticed he had a tic under one eye. She’d never backed down from an angry man before; she wouldn’t start now.

  “Please?”

  “Will you tell me why she’s ignoring me?”

  “That and more, Ben,” Jessi said.

  He started at the use of his given name. Then smiled. “So you’ve accepted me as a friend?”

  Jessi nodded. “I’m proud to call ye friend, and I promise to tell ye everything. Don’t be forgettin’. Come back in an hour.”

  He tipped his hat to her, spun on his heel and leapt off the porch. Watching the way he ate up the ground with his long strides, she knew she was doing the right thing. She’d caused Inga pain by putting thoughts in her head when the poor woman’s emotions were all tangled up, being that she was carrying a wee babe.

  The thought of holding a babe in her arms, one with a shock of dark hair and warm brown eyes, had Jessi wishing she hadn’t been so hasty in her promises to the Almighty.

  She shook her head at her perfidy. A promise was a promise, a bargain a bargain. She’d made a promise to her Maker and a bargain with Inga the other day, and she intended to keep both.

  “If John doesn’t love me, I’ll soon be findin’ out.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Good news traveled fast. In the town of Emerson, bad news traveled faster.

  As Jessi was putting together supper, she heard voices. Wiping her hands on her borrowed apron, she followed the sound of the voices. Relief swept through her as she recognized them. By the time she got to the front parlor, Maggie, Bridget and Pearl were sitting in a semicircle around Inga, who seemed to be a bit embarrassed by all of the attention.

  Bridget was speaking, so Jessi stopped to listen. “You stood up to the committee for me.”

  Pearl and Maggie agreed. “You were there for all of us, Inga. It’s our turn to stand up for you.”

  “But I’m not under fire right now. It’s Jessi.”

  Jessi chose that moment to let them know she was there. “Ye’ve stood for me as well, today, Inga. A truer friend I’ll never have.”

  The women all nodded, stepping back so Jessi could be included in their circle.

  What a lovely sight, Jessi thought. Black-haired, gray-eyed Pearl; Maggie with her red head and blue eyes; auburn-haired, amber-eyed Bridget; and in the center, Inga with her blonde hair, streaked with silver and pale blue eyes that could see right through to the heart of you.

  Separately the women were strong. Together they were unbeatable. Jessi planned to make certain they stood by Inga until she could speak with the marshal.

  “I’ve supper on the boil,” she said. “Would ye please keep herself company while I put the kettle on?”

  Pearl stood to help her, but Jessi waved her back. “I’ll let Inga tell ye how she stood before the powers of darkness and def
ended me honor.”

  The woman crowded close, and Jessi knew they’d give her the time she needed. When she walked back into the kitchen, she sucked in a breath, prepared to scream until the big man standing by the table lifted his head and pushed the brim of his Stetson back so she could see his face.

  “Ben. Ye gave me a fright,” she scolded.

  He shook his head, removed the hat from his head and waited. Taking pity on the man, Jessi ladled water from the bucket into the kettle and put it to heat.

  “ ’Twas me fault Inga swooned earlier.”

  “You weren’t the one to make her pregnant,” he ground out, embarrassed now that the words had slipped out. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget how young you are.”

  Jessi waved his words aside. “I was the one to ask her if she was concerned that ye visited other women when you weren’t here.”

  “What the hell would you ask her something like that for?” he demanded, crushing the brim of hat in his hands.

  Wondering if Ben was imagining it was her neck he was wringing, Jessi wisely took a step back and lifted her head high. “Why else wouldn’t ye honor a fine woman like Inga and ask her to be yer wife?”

  To give the man credit, he absorbed the shock of her words and accepted them as his due. “She believed you?”

  “Ye daft man,” she bit out. “I didn’t say ye did. I asked if she was worried that ye did. ’Tis another thing entirely.”

  He eased his grip on his hat and smoothed out the crumpled brim. “What else did she say?”

  “She loves ye.” Jessi watched the man’s face for a sign and was rewarded. Justiss’s eyes glowed with what she knew was the love he felt for her friend. “Can ye not bend yer rules and ask her to wed?”

  He shook his head at her and asked, “Are you sure you’re only nineteen?”

  Jessi nodded. “ ’Tis not the point, but somethin’ else herself is worried over.”

  “That you’re so young?”

  Holding her temper in check, she sighed and forged ahead. “Not my age. Hers. She’s worried she’ll lose this babe like the others.”

  “What others?”

  “Ah,” Jessi said. “No wonder she thinks ye don’t love her.”

  The marshal prowled from one side of the kitchen to the other like a large predatory beast. “You’re not making any sense.”