The Irish Westerns Boxed Set

by C. H. Admirand

  Jessi folded her arms beneath her breasts and glared at him. “ ’Tis yerself who’s not seein’ what’s as plain as the nose on yer face.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “Ye might be sharin’ the woman’s bed, but ye don’t know a thing about her.”

  “She likes her coffee hot and her men—”

  Jessi glared at him and he felt silent. “Like I was sayin’, ye don’t know what lies in her heart. And until ye figure out how to talk to herself, ye won’t be sleepin’ upstairs.”

  “You can’t stop me.”

  She agreed with him. “I won’t have to.”

  His face paled as the truth of her words struck home. “I never asked about her first husband.”

  “Or if she wanted children,” Jessi said.

  “She’d been married before and didn’t have any,” he said. “I didn’t think to ask.”

  Jessi threw her hands up in the air. “Maybe God didn’t think she was ready.”

  “And she’s ready now.”

  “Aye,” Jessi answered. “And afraid she’ll lose this one as well.”

  That sent Justiss reeling backwards into the wall. He closed his eyes and was silent for so long, Jessi wondered if she should poke him to see if he’d fallen asleep, knowing she and Inga weren’t the only ones who’d stayed up all night keeping the town safe.

  He finally spoke. “Is there anything else I should know?”

  “Will ye be talkin’ to her soon?”

  He nodded. “As soon as you tell me everything you know.”

  “I can’t tell ye it all.”

  He pushed away from the wall and stalked toward her, and for the first time, she was worried. The lawman looked every inch the fearsome figure she’d read about in the dime novels she kept in her carpetbag beside her bed. “Start talking,” he said. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”

  “Ye can’t make me.” She backed toward the door to the porch.

  “Maybe not, lass,” Reilly called out from where he stood on the steps. “But I can.”

  Jessi whirled around. “Ye bloody eedjit,” Jessi cried. “Ye scared the life out of me.”

  Reilly’s eyes rounded, but he didn’t say a word. He walked up the steps and didn’t stop until Jessi backed into the kitchen and sat down in the closest chair.

  “The marshal is a friend of mine,” Reilly said quietly.

  “Inga’s a friend—”

  “One of mine as well,” he interrupted her. “As such, ye’ll tell the man whatever he wants to know to save the woman from any more pain.”

  The emotion in his eyes softened her resolve when his words couldn’t. “Sure and she’s suffered enough.”

  Jessi turned to the marshal and motioned for him to join her at the table. With Reilly seated to the left of her and Justiss on her right, she told them what happened and Doc’s instructions. By the time she’d relayed everything, she felt exhausted, but was glad that Reilly had forced her to talk, because of the way the marshal had looked when she’d told of the three babes Inga lost. The sheen of tears in his bright green eyes had her fighting back tears of her own.

  Reilly surprised her by reaching out to take her hand through the hardest part of the telling. Grateful, she smiled at him. But now that she was finished, she pulled her hand free. “Will ye speak to her?”

  Justiss nodded.

  “Will ye be askin’ her to marry ye?”

  “For God’s sake, Jessi,” Reilly ground out. “ ’Tis none of yer affair.”

  Jessi pushed to her feet and rounded on the man. “ ’Tis, because I care about her and intend to stay here working in her place until she’s well enough or until her babe is born.”

  Reilly looked at her, but didn’t say anything more. When she was sure he’d taken in all that she’d said and meant, she added, “And only then will I be leavin’. Rest assured, I’ll be doin’ as ye asked the other day. I’ll be goin’ back to Ireland.”

  Before he could open his mouth to speak, she grabbed her skirts and lifted them so she didn’t trip on them and hurried out the back door and into the late-afternoon sunshine.

  Looking up at the sky, Jessi prayed for more rain. They’d had only had a few moments of drenching rain; nothing like the soft misty rain of Ireland. The water didn’t soak into the ground on this side of the world; it pounded against it and ran off. Unable to go back inside until she was sure John had left, Jessi walked toward where the stable used to be.

  A few people were on the street and either waved or looked the other way. She sighed. It would take some time before she convinced everyone that she didn’t start the fire or injure that poor man. As far as injuring John, well, that was another thing entirely.

  She wasn’t sure why it was so important to her to carve out a niche for herself here in the country John had chosen to live. As soon as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t true. She wanted to belong here because she sensed John wasn’t going to leave.

  Unsure if she could leave her home permanently in order to stay in America, Jessi slowed her steps. The mercantile was off to one side. The plateglass window appeared new; so did the dry goods and bolts of cloth in the window. Right next to the mercantile were two buildings, the bank and the jail, both so new she could smell the raw wood. She wondered if lightning had struck the town before. She’d have to ask.

  Walking on past, she sighed. The landscape wasn’t as pretty as home, but maybe that was because she wasn’t yet accustomed to the barrenness. The sky was a lovely shade of blue, but bright enough to hurt your eyes, just as John had described in one of his letters.

  The houses were sturdy enough, though not as fair as the one she lived in or the one Mrs. Reilly raised her brood in. Nothing was whitewashed or thatched in this big open country, but the stark clean lines of the construction wasn’t unappealing.

  Looking at the front of yet another building, Jessi realized what was missing—the flowers. Lord, she loved flowers and used to get up early in the morning, just as the dew was settling upon their fragile petals, to see if she could see the fairies sipping from the sweet nectar of the flowers or bathing in the dew.

  She’d even washed her face in the dew, hoping to attract the man of her dreams, but that had been years ago, and John Reilly certainly hadn’t fallen at her feet proclaiming he loved her more than life.

  To be fair to the man, she was seven years old at the time, but nonetheless, she’d hoped and prayed he would. Still another expectation he’d yet to fulfill.

  She reached the end of the wooden walkway, but didn’t turn around. The day was inviting, now that the sun was peeking through the clouds. Needing to clear her head, needing to think, she kept walking. Her talk with the marshal was bothering her, and she needed to put her finger on just why that was.

  The farther she walked, the more deeply in thought she settled. Ben loved Inga. Of that she was sure, but why then wouldn’t the man ask her to marry him? Were all men skittish of pledging their hearts to one woman? Was it not in their nature to be tied to one woman in their lifetime?

  Her da had been tied to her mother and loved her, but her mother hadn’t loved him the way Jessi thought her da deserved.

  The one time she tried to talk to her mother about it, she’d refused to speak of it, so Jessi was left to wonder.

  It wasn’t until later when Aiden had let it slip that his da had once been betrothed to Jessi’s mother that the pieces of that particular puzzle had fallen into place.

  “I should have written to Aiden and Mrs. Reilly.” Vowing to do just that, Jessi focused on her surroundings and for a moment panicked. There were no houses in front of her. She whirled around, but didn’t see any buildings at all. She’d been too lost in thought to pay attention to where she’d been walking.

  “Well, Jessi,” she said to herself. “ ’Tis yer own fault for meddlin’ in the affairs of others.” Hadn’t her mother warned her time and again not to do that?

  Mrs. Reilly was more understanding, having shared the o
verwhelming need to meddle and fix the troubles of the ones she loved.

  Neither one was here now to scold her or help her. “Eedjit.” The word fit her perfectly. She hadn’t used her brain for what the good Lord intended. She’d nearly cost her friend the love of a good man. Turning around and walking in the direction she thought she’d come from, although truth be told she wasn’t certain if it had been, she listed the rest of her transgressions since arriving in town.

  Millicent had been right about brawling with John. Well, she hadn’t exactly brawled with the man; she’d only hit him once. Sighing deeply, Jessi realized if she were going to own up to it, it had been a solid right cross to his chin. But she wasn’t responsible for him picking fights with others, was she?

  Puzzling it out in her beleaguered brain, she wandered until she was bone-tired and thirsty. She settled down beneath a scrubby-looking tree and noticed the sky was no longer a bright blue. There were dark clouds boiling above her. Even as she thought it, the heavens opened and drenched her.

  “Thank ye, Lord,” she grumbled. “I did pray for rain. Aren’t I the fool for forgettin’ I’m not in Ireland anymore?”

  The rain lowered the air temperature, and by the time it stopped and Jessi felt ready to get up and walk, she was chilled. “ ’Tis penance,” she admitted. “I deserve it and I’ll do it.”

  As it got darker, she realized she must have gotten turned around again, because she still had no idea where she was. “ ’Tisn’t the first time I’ve been lost,” she said out loud. “I’m guessin’ it won’t be the last.”

  Exhausted, defeated for the moment, she sat down on an outcropping of rocks and sighed. She’d wanted time to sort through her thoughts and now she’d been granted that, too.

  “Ye’d think the women would have missed their tea.” Pulling her shawl closer around her, she started to feel sorry for herself until she realized that she wasn’t the one who needed the support of the women she’d left behind at the boarding house. “Inga needs them right now more than I do.”

  She could almost imagine Mrs. Reilly smiling down at her, reminding her it wasn’t easy to be a woman. “Faith, don’t I know it,” she whispered to the night. “ ’Tis time to stop thinkin’ about meself and me own worries, especially if I’m goin’ to be livin’ in the same town as himself without pinin’ after the man.”

  Drawing her knees up close to her chest, she laid her cheek against them and pulled the wet shawl over her head and closed her eyes.

  Jessi couldn’t say what woke her, but one moment she’d been sleeping and the next wide-awake and aware that she was no longer alone.

  “Well, well,” a deep voice mocked. “Looky what I’ve found, boys.”

  Jessi’s belly cramped tight, but she kept the fear from showing on her face. Ignoring the dark form looming a few feet away, she gripped her knees harder, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

  “What’s yer name, sweet thing?”

  Jessi braced herself as the man stepped closer, the pale light of the moon revealing a scruffy-looking man wearing dusty clothes. From the smell of him, he sorely needed a bath.

  She ignored him and looked up. It had stopped raining some time ago. There were no clouds left in the sky and the three-quarter moon hung low in the horizon. It must be way past midnight.

  “Cat got your tongue?” The man stepped nearer to her, and the scent was nauseating.

  “Maybe she’s a mute.” Another man stepped close enough for her to see that he was dressed like the first man, with the rough blue pants John and everyone else in Emerson seemed to wear, tall hats with large brims and boots.

  “Then she can’t make any noise when we see if she tastes as sweet as she looks.”

  God help me, Jessi prayed. Have I been so selfish that ye’d leave me to the likes of them with not an honorable thought among them?

  Four men stood in a semicircle around her, close enough to make her gag. When she did, they all took a quick step back. When her stomach settled, they moved close again. “Are you sick or something?” the first one asked.

  “Naw, Billy,” one of the men called out. “She’s jest stupid. Can’t you see the way she’s jest staring at us?”

  So, she thought. Their leader is Billy. It was always helpful to know the name of your enemies, or in this case, her persecutors. Although from the way they leered at her, she didn’t think persecuting with words was what they had in mind.

  When the tallest of them reached out and touched her arm, she drew in a sharp breath and scooted back.

  “I didn’t say you could touch her yet,” Billy ground out. “I’m the leader, and I get the first taste.”

  Her belly cramped again, and this time she wished she could throw up all over them; maybe then they’d leave her be. If this was what life was like here out in the west of America, she wanted no part of it. John Reilly could go to the devil, and she’d happily wave him on his way with a smile on her face and only the best of wishes in her heart.

  The tall one shoved the man standing next to him into Billy. “Dammit, Clem,” Billy shouted. “Jest knock it off while I figure out what to do with her.”

  The one named Clem snickered. “Are you too young to know what to do with a woman?”

  Billy took offense at the tall man’s words, but didn’t let him taunt him for long. “Young enough and man enough for Suzy Parker to prefer me to you.”

  And that’s when the fight started. Clem hauled off and punched Billy in the stomach, doubling the younger man over. The other two started shouting out pointers to the two men fighting.

  Hoping they were too engrossed in their battle to notice her, Jessi slipped silently off the rock and melted into the darkness. Keeping her shawl over her hair, she hoped the moonlight wouldn’t give her away. Walking quickly but quietly, she moved far enough away to run without being worried they would hear her.

  Fifteen minutes later, lungs bursting, she ground to a stop and doubled over, trying to catch her breath. She heard the sound of horses and knew she’d be caught if she didn’t keep going.

  The head start she’d gained was cut in half by the fact that they rode horses while she was on foot. “She’s not that dumb,” Billy proclaimed as he dismounted, grabbing her by the arm.

  “No more tricks, sweet thing.”

  Jessi heeded the man’s warning, wondering if John and the marshal would ever find her body and be able to give her a proper burial. Better yet, were they even looking for her?

  “She’ll ride with me,” Billy told his men, lifting Jessi up onto his horse and mounting behind her.

  The shawl slipped from her head, and she didn’t need to see his face to gauge the man’s reaction. Her hair always gave her away when she’d been trying to follow behind John and his friends without them knowing it.

  Fingering the loose strand blowing across her cheek, Billy blew out a whiskey-laden breath that nearly knocked her off the horse. “It feels like silk.”

  Men who had been drinking sometimes made mistakes and moved slower than they normally would. She would watch and wait for her chance.

  “Let’s ride.” Billy snuggled closer to the back of her and wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, rubbing his forearm against the underside of her breasts.

  As they rode, Jessi no longer prayed, she made a vow. Ye’ll pay for tryin’ to take what I’m savin’ for another.

  Chapter Twelve

  “How long has she been gone?” Inga demanded. “And why didn’t anyone say anything to me?”

  Pearl shook her head at Inga and said, “Precisely the reason we’re trying to get you back on the couch right now.”

  “ ’Tisn’t good for yer babe,” Maggie soothed. “Why won’t ye come sit back down and stop pacin’?”

  “You know they’ll find her,” Bridget added. “That’s why we’re here and the men are all out looking.”

  “Did anyone see her leave?”

  Pearl nodded. “She was seen walking past the mercantile.”


  “But that was hours ago,” Inga protested. “Why aren’t they back yet?”

  Maggie pushed her bulk up off the chair where she’d been sitting. She grabbed Inga by the hand and pulled her along behind her. “We’re goin’ to the kitchen. Ye can come or stay as ye choose,” Maggie told the others.

  Pearl smiled at the way the shortest of the bunch was able to drag the tallest along behind her like a recalcitrant child.

  “Let’s go,” Pearl said, grinning. “I don’t want to miss Maggie when she’s on a roll.”

  By the time Bridget and Pearl caught up to Maggie and Inga, they were quietly talking and the kettle was on the boil.

  “If you don’t want to answer to Joshua,” Pearl bit out, “you’ll sit down while you lecture Inga.”

  Maggie flushed, but didn’t move right away. “He doesn’t worry me.”

  “But having a healthy baby does,” Bridget said. “Now sit.”

  Maggie sat. “We’re a terribly bossy bunch of women.”

  “But we love you anyway,” a familiar voice called out from behind them.

  “Mick?” Bridget was surprised to see her son. “What are you doing here, and where’s Emma?”

  “She’s fine and sitting on that green lady’s chair in Mrs. Swenson’s front parlor.”

  Bridget nodded and asked him again, “What are you doing here?”

  He looked around the room, straightened his shoulders and hooked his thumbs in his front pants pockets. “Pa said if he wasn’t back by ten o’clock that I was to take Emma with me into town and keep watch over you ladies.”

  “So you woke Emma up and brought her all the way into town?” Bridget couldn’t believe her husband would be so stubborn. Emma and Mick would have been better off staying out at the ranch with the rest of the hands to watch over them.

  “Mama?” Little Emma came running down the hall and held out her hands to Bridget. Bridget picked up the little girl and snuggled her close, wondering where Jessi was and who would be holding her close to soothe her.

  Emma chattered and distracted the women until the little one fell asleep on Bridget’s lap. Mick started prowling the kitchen, and Bridget asked him, “Why don’t you go on outside and see if you see any sign of them?”