by Tammy Barley
Well, he mused, she has taken to Seth well enough. He chuckled, the sound echoing across the empty room. Whatever her troubles were, he knew poker wasn’t one of them. Companion-starved, Seth had challenged her to game after game of cards. She couldn’t bluff, but she had a good head for odds. She won more than she lost.
Jake’s attitude sobered. He set aside the fire iron and leaned a hand on the mantle, sifting through other reflections of the past two days. Although Jess had warmed to many of the cattlemen, she had held him at a distance, confirming his belief that her vexation was with him alone. But that didn’t trouble him beyond his concern for her. She had laughed at Seth’s coffee-making lecture, and it was good she’d made that small step away from the weight of recent memories. Thinking too long about such things could tear someone up inside.
Jake doused the lamp, gathered up his coat, and left the cookhouse. The night sky glittered above him, and he paused to appreciate the awesome beauty of it. Yes, it was good out here. This place had a way of taking a body’s mind off those troubles that just won’t let go.
***
In her room, Jess lay on the bed and settled under the covers. She had been at the ranch just a short time, yet she was quickly coming to love a kind of people she had never known existed. Like young Seth, many of the linemen would likely keep the pelts to sell for additional income, and she fully expected there to be a swarm of new hats and silver-ornamented hatbands and flashy spurs, as well as heavily decorated boots, strutting about the ranch come spring. She grinned in the darkness. A few of the men had spoken as though the world held no finer goods, and perhaps, to them, it didn’t. She was beginning to understand that others would refuse any additional payment to the dollar for each animal they had originally agreed upon, firmly believing that if the wolves were on Jake’s property, the pelts were his. The cattlemen’s code of ethics was like nothing Jess had ever experienced before—men hardly older than boys neither taking anything they believed they didn’t earn nor standing in obligation to remain at a ranch if wanderlust beckoned.
Jess realized she felt no differently. She would stay at the ranch until she had worked off the cost of her food and clothing, along with the horse she would take. Perhaps, by then, the sheriff or Captain Rawlins would have news. When she left, she would have no reason to feel guilt or further compulsion to repay Jake Bennett. She would owe him nothing.
***
Jake hurried up a staircase flooded with morning sunshine to retrieve a pair of chaps from his room. With Jess spending her days at the cookhouse, the place was empty, silent. His gaze traveled across his room as he buckled the chaps on, recalling that first morning when he had found her there, looking out his window. On a thought, Jake crossed the short hall to stand in her doorway. Her bed was neatly made; the sparse furnishings were dusted and arranged along one wall. None of her own things was out, he saw. She must have placed her cloak and ball gown in the trunk. On the dressing table stood a basin and pitcher.
With one last look around the room, Jake strode out.
Late that night, after all but the watch had turned in, night sounds drifted in through the partly open door of the workshop. Inside, Jake patiently worked over a whirring lathe, turning a spindle to carve away peels of fresh wood. Beside him, a sturdy, uncut plank and three more shapeless spindles waited.
Chapter Six
The days passed with Jess gradually taking on more responsibilities, sharing with Red Deer the tasks involved in caring for a ranchful of men. Jake and most of the men, she’d learned, rode out each morning before sunrise to see to the cattle, while half a dozen or so stayed behind. The air had lost its wintry chill. As soon as new grass appeared, the linemen would return, then the ranch yard would be full of working men…and attentive eyes.
During the second week of March, Jess decided she’d worked off her debt to Jake. She began watching for an opportunity to ride away.
One morning, she undertook the task of scrubbing the floors of the main house. When she carried out the last pan of dirty water and emptied it away from the buildings, the sun felt warm on her face and arms—the warmest it had felt since autumn. Letting the pan dangle from her hand, she turned to take in the view around her. Horses had been freed in the corrals, and suddenly she was filled with pleasant memories of Kentucky. The horses tossed their heads and frisked about, seeming to welcome the oncoming spring.
Across the yard, one of the cattlemen raised a hand in greeting, and she surprised herself by waving back. The man went on about his work, and Jess strolled aimlessly in the sunshine, ending up, by happenstance, at the stable. The stable. Suddenly, her mind was alive with possibilities. With an air of innocence, she leaned the pan against the outer wall and breezed inside.
Searching furtively for any observers who might stop her, Jess wandered down the long central aisle. If she were a ranch hand, she mused, this would be the outfit where she would want to be. The stable was well organized, and it snapped with newness. The men kept it freshly bedded with straw, and they also took great care of their mounts and tack. If her father had been there, he would have made some remark about telling a good man by his way with horses. She smiled sadly at the bittersweet musing as she made her way to the far end of the building.
Aside from the remaining horses and herself, the stable was empty. With Jake gone working cattle, this was her best opportunity to leave. Walking back the way she had come, she lifted a bridle from its peg, slid open a gate, and entered a stall.
The sleek horse within eyed her warily, her ears pricked up. “Whoa, girl. Here now, have a sniff of me.” She moved slowly, allowing the palomino to see her. The mare stretched out her muzzle, her nostrils taking in Jess’s scent. Jess reached up gently to stroke the animal, smoothing her hand over her forehead and cheek. “Yes, you’re a sweet girl,” she murmured warmly. “How would you like to chase the wind with me?”
The horse nudged her shoulder for more petting. Jess obliged, then drew on the bridle and buckled it in place. As she slipped the reins over the horse’s head, her hands began to tremble.
Jess listened for anyone returning to the barn, peering about as she led the tan beauty toward the waiting saddles. There were four of them, and Jess found the one that would best fit the mare. She laid a thick blanket over the mare’s back, then set the saddle on top. Ducking under the mare’s neck, she lowered the cinch and a stirrup, then slipped under again to retrieve the cinch strap and secure it. With the threat of discovery, she decided that the current lengths of the stirrups would have to suffice—there was no time to adjust them. She swung herself up into the saddle and eased the horse out into the sunshine. Taking one last look about, she gave the horse her heels.
The mare was solid, and she stretched out with remarkable speed. Behind them, the cluster of buildings faded away rapidly. None of the men was in sight. No one shouted after her. Jess took a long, deep breath of spring air. She was free. Laughter bubbled in her throat with the joy of it, but she held it in. Eventually, someone would discover she was missing. She needed to keep her wits about her.
Red Deer had said that the ranch was a day and a night’s ride from Carson City. Jess knew that if she followed the general flow of the creek, there would be food and water for the horse, and she could manage without food until they reached the city.
As they raced southeast, Jess kept her distance from the occasional settlement, but she was compromising speed in order to avoid being seen. Finally, she searched out a rough road that wended south, and she pressed the horse to her limit.
The sun was high overhead when she slowed the mare to a trot to give her a rest, wiping sweat from her own forehead as the sun poured out the warmth that it had long held back. She passed opposite the tent of a prospector, who was placer mining near the creek. Once he was out of sight, she rode to the creek’s edge, intending to water the horse.
Jess glanced back the way she had come…and froze. A huge black horse and rider were charging straight for her, closing
the mile between them with unnerving speed. Recognizing the familiar bulk and brown hat of the rider, Jess spun the mare around and kicked her into a run.
With her horse already worn from the morning’s pace, Jess knew she wouldn’t be able to outrun Jake for long, but she had gained a fair distance—as well as an overwhelming need for vengeance—and devised a way to unhorse him.
A stand of oak trees appeared near a spur of the mountain. She rode straight toward it, scanning the ground ahead for a stick large enough to suit her purposes. There! She jerked the horse to a stop and swung to the ground. She hefted the branch that had fallen, swiftly regained her saddle, then forged ahead in a clatter of hooves.
***
For a moment, Jake lost sight of Jess. When he passed a grove of oaks, he caught a glimpse of her again—a flash of sun-gilded braid glinting through the dust. He maintained a steady pace, watching for a place to overtake her.
Jess rode the way he remembered, as bold and confident as the horse that carried her. He intentionally gave her a lead, watching her ride as any man observing a thing of beauty. She was not suited for household chores and domestic tasks alone, he realized. She was too much like he was—she needed the outdoors, wind, and freedom. As soon as he was able, he would find work for her alongside the men, even if it meant that she would have to be watched more closely. It was necessary for her to stay, and stay she would.
Jake was familiar with the scattered hills they were approaching. He would use the terrain to trap her and to put an end to the chase. As soon as she disappeared around a bend, he cut sharply to the opposite side of the hill and loosed the reins. The stallion bolted forward, sniffing intently for the scent of the mare.
Jake rounded the curve, then leaned abruptly on his reins. Jess was flying at him head-on, viciously swinging a branch at his midsection. The jagged end of the limb ripped his vest as it passed. He shouted his rage, more from surprise than from pain.
He whipped the stallion around, tore his lasso from the saddle, and shot after her.
Jess glanced back. When he was nearly alongside her, she flung the branch at him.
Jake knocked it aside. He let out a piercing whistle and smacked her horse’s rump with the rawhide.
Panicked, the mare thrashed and bucked to fight off her unknown attacker. Unable to keep her seat, Jess tumbled to the dry desert ground.
Instinctively, she rolled away from the hooves of the pitching horse, but Jake was already waving the frightened horse back. The mare’s eyes rolled white, and she bolted away riderless, thrusting warning kicks behind. The mare, he determined, wasn’t the only one who needed the sting of a rope applied to her backside.
Jake dismounted with rope in hand. Jess’s face flushed with anger as she scrambled to her feet. Jake braced himself as he approached, his hat pulled low, the lasso gripped threateningly in his hand.
Jess’s attention flicked to the gun on his hip, where her gaze lingered an instant too long.
“Forget it, Jess. I wouldn’t want either of us to take home a foot full of lead.”
“I usually hit what I aim for, Bennett, and I’ve never yet hit a polecat in the foot!” she seethed.
Jake ignored her threat. “Would you care to explain why you tried to break me in two with that branch?”
“Not in the least.” She glanced in the direction her horse had fled, and then, on second thought, eyed the stallion. “I’ve told you enough—I’m not staying.”
“Yes, you are.”
Her attention snapped to Jake. He began to uncoil the lasso, and for the first time she appeared uncertain.
“You think to tie me?”
“If I thought you’d ride back without trying to knock me from my skin, I wouldn’t have to tie you.”
She raised her chin, stepping back. “I am not riding with you.”
Instead of insisting, he studied her quietly. “What’s this all about, Jess? Carson City? A cramped store and men who attack you in the streets? That’s not why you were leaving.”
Jess didn’t answer. She radiated stubbornness.
“Perhaps you’ll tell me when you’re ready. I’d best get you back.”
“I said, I’m not going!” Her yell must have carried halfway back to the ranch.
“You know I can’t let you just walk away.”
Jess spun and stalked off in the direction of Carson City.
Jake wasn’t a man to let things go. In two steps, he’d caught up with her, and he clamped a warning hand on her arm.
In the next instant, Jess lunged at him, shoulder first, attempting to knock him off balance, no doubt so she could make a grab for the horse.
Using her momentum, Jake spun around and took her down like a yearling calf.
Pinned facedown in the dust, Jess kicked furiously, trying to wriggle away. Jake grasped her wrists behind her and bound them in a heartbeat, his knee planted firmly yet gently across her back to hold her in place.
Jess screamed. Jake ignored her. He flipped her onto her back and roped her arms to her sides. In the next moment, he snared her feet together and whipped a double coil around her ankles. She was secured. He hefted her in his arms and made for his horse.
Jess pulled at the ropes in desperation but was unable to budge them. Her green eyes blazed as they bore into his.
Feeling unusually lighthearted, Jake set her in the saddle, then mounted up behind her. Jess turned her face away, refusing to acknowledge him. She didn’t see the way he smiled behind her and shook his head slowly, amazed by this fearless spitfire who had stepped into his life.
They rode back to the ranch at an easy pace—Jake had run the stallion at top speed to catch up with Jess, and now he was burdening it with the weight of an extra body. He kept his silence, knowing that anything he said would only fuel Jess’s anger. He also figured she still needed time to sort things out in her mind. He used the ride to do the same.
He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with Jess over the coming months, but she certainly wouldn’t be safe in Carson City. If the murderers didn’t succeed a second time, anyone who had believed her to be dead would grow suspicious. When the war ended, perhaps she’d want to go home to Kentucky. If so, he would see she got there safe.
That thought didn’t sit well with him. Isaac had once said that everyone the Hales knew there was gone. A beautiful woman by herself was easy prey. No, he wouldn’t allow Jess to come to harm, not in the States and not in the West. But in forcing her to stay, he was inviting a battle of a whole other kind.
Lowering his gaze, he took in the smooth line of her jaw, the shine in her chestnut hair as a cool breeze ruffled it. It smelled of flowers, and she was soft and warm against him.
His gut clenched at his own betrayal. Recalling the beauty of the one he loved, he put his admiration for Jess from his mind. He was honor-bound to protect Jess, but he belonged to another, and he wouldn’t betray his lady’s love.
***
Having calmed down as they rode, Jess suffered regret, of all things, that she was responsible for the loss of one of Jake’s horses. The mare had been affectionate and had a lot of heart, and there was little chance that whoever would find her would treat her as well as Jake’s men had. She had run off toward the northeast, away from the nearest water source. Jess ached with the need to apologize, but she doubted she could manage civility if she tried. So, she asked about another matter instead. “Have you received word about the search for the men who set the fire?”
“Not yet. If I don’t hear from the sheriff or Tom Rawlins in another week, I’ll send a man to find out what they’ve learned.”
Another week! Six weeks had already passed since the fire. Soon, the sheriff would give up the hunt and move on to other duties, if he hadn’t already done so. It made no difference. Jess would keep watch for those responsible for the rest of her life. When they surfaced, she’d see justice done. On that thought, she asked another question.
“Did you see anyone the night of the fire, Bennett
?”
“See anyone?”
“Yes. You and your men were in front of the house, and the servants must have escaped out the back. Did any of you see the arsonists run from the house?”
“No one saw anyone unusual that night, not even the neighbors. I asked around.”
“Don’t you think it odd? After all, nine men attacked me in the street.”
“Nine attacked you, but likely only one or two started the fire. A group of men couldn’t have slipped away unnoticed.”
“I suppose.”
It was late afternoon before she recognized the terrain, and only then did she realize how far she had gone. The air grew cooler, though it seemed unlikely night would bring the bitter cold of months gone by. She wondered what the land would look like come spring, then mentally reproached herself for thinking of any future here.
Unexpectedly, Jake reined in the horse and dismounted, leaving Jess to balance herself. He began untying the ropes.
“What are you doing?”
“I tied you because I had to, but we’re almost back. I don’t want to show you disgrace, especially in front of the men.”
She stared at him blankly. What was she to make of that? When her wrists were free, she rubbed them, then realized there was no need. He had secured her soundly but not harshly, and the ropes had barely chafed the skin.
“But I’ll tell you right now that I plan to give orders to my men to hog-tie you if you ever try to run again.”
Jess closed her mouth against the gratitude she had nearly conveyed. Too bad they hadn’t stopped by the creek. She’d have lifted her boot and kicked him straight into it.
With a few quick movements, he coiled and secured the rope, then swung up into the saddle behind her and pulled her securely to him. But before he could stir the horse, Jess stopped him with a hand on his arm, then turned her head to face him. “It’s my fault she left, Jake.”
