by Tammy Barley
Jess made her way through the crowded yard. Nearly two dozen ranch hands ran to care for the pitifully bawling cows that men on horseback were herding toward the barn. Apparently, the wolf pelts had sold well. New hats, spotless boots, and gleaming, jingling spurs were everywhere.
Deciding the barn seemed the best place to find lengths of rope for a clothesline, Jess entered, dodging elbows, hooves, and spurs.
The interior was clean and surprisingly organized, like the stable. She shook her head. How did the ranchmen give the animals such care while they themselves wallowed in the grime and muck of their living quarters? As she waited for several men to pass with their four-legged charges, Jess scanned the barn for rope. Some of the men glanced at her a time or two, perhaps curious about the woman they had been instructed to watch but still knew little about. She smiled sweetly to them. Finally, she spied Reese, and she asked him where she might find some rope.
Reese’s cheeks reddened. He swallowed. “R-rope? H-how much are you needin’, Miss Jess?”
“A good twenty yards, if you have it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He led her back to the doorway of the barn and pointed, saying, “The next building there is the workshop, and between that and the stable is the supply shed.” He wiped a nervous hand on his shirt. “That’s where you’ll find most anything you might be looking for. I’d walk you over there if I could, but…” He gestured to the moaning cows tethered about the barn.
“I understand, Reese. I’ll find it just fine. Thank you.”
Out in the open again, she sighed. A body could get lost in there, she decided, and no one would even notice. That thought led to another, and another, and when she finally reached the supply shed, she was certain that if she took a horse from the stable now, nobody would realize it for hours. She glanced about. Everyone was busy with the cows—a more pressing task than keeping an eye on one small woman.
She passed the shed without a glance, went around back, and hurried toward the rear of the stable. Then she came up short.
A sprawling rosebush stood before her—taller than a man and wider than her arm span. Instantly, she recalled when Jake had brought her back to the ranch the week before. He’d lowered her to the ground and headed behind the stable before riding out with two cuttings in his hand. They had been little more than stems. Now the thorny green branches were leafing out. New growth appeared at the tips, and a few tiny buds were just beginning to form. Jess’s gaze dropped to the dirt where it was planted; she could tell that it had recently been turned and watered. The plant was being carefully tended—but why a rosebush, here? And what did Jake do with the cuttings?
Generating no satisfactory explanations, Jess refocused on her goal. She continued forward, entering the stable.
Near the center, she stood as she had before. Once again, she appraised the long aisle of stalls and the few remaining horses. Then her gaze shifted to the open doors at the far end. Out in the daylight, three or four distracted men were hurrying about the yard. Beyond them sat the bunkhouse, which needed a good deal of attention the men had no time to give, and although she couldn’t see behind that building, Jess knew that a pregnant Red Deer was laying heavy logs over a fire, waiting for her return.
Groaning over the inner battle between her compulsion to stay and her determination to go, Jess walked back to the supply shed. She needed to help Red Deer finish the laundry, and she needed to clean out the bunkhouse. She would stay long enough to show her gratitude for the assistance and kindness of these people, but not a minute longer.
Inside the shed, Jess used a tin pail to collect various items, making plans all the while. She would stay another day to help Red Deer finish the laundry and would attack the bunkhouse the day after that. Two more days, she promised herself. Then she would go and know she had done what was right. That decided, she found a heavy coil of rope, hefted it onto her shoulder, and went to string a clothesline.
***
“What is all this?” Red Deer asked.
Jess set down the rope and pail. “I thought it would help to put up a permanent clothesline. When we’re not using it, the men can hang their wet clothes and blankets on it to keep them from molding.”
“They lay their blankets and bedrolls on the roof to dry them.”
“Well then, we’ll have to wash all the bedding, too.”
“This will be much work, Jessica.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll help until it’s done.”
Jess laid the rope out while Red Deer started the fire under the second pot. Eyeing her, Jess decided to refill the barrels herself after supper so they would be ready for the next wash day Red Deer undertook. If Red Deer toted the heavy water alone, she could possibly harm herself or her unborn child.
Satisfied that the rope would reach from the rear wall of the bunkhouse to a hardy cottonwood tree, Jess dragged a chair out of the bunkhouse to stand on. She retrieved tools from the pail and affixed a heavy hook to the rear corner of the building, just below the eave.
The echoes of her hammer blows drifted out across the ranch. Jess felt several pairs of curious eyes on her, but she paid them no notice. She tossed down the hammer and hung one end of the rope on the hook. Next, she dragged the chair over to the tree and stood on it, reaching for the lowest branch, but the massive limb still stretched far above her head. She set the chair aside. Coiling up a length of rope, she stood back, swung it high, and released it, trying to catch it around the branch. She missed. She gathered it up for another try. Again and again, she attempted to rope the branch. After each failure, she made another patient attempt.
To her surprise, Doyle drove up in a wagon, his expression composed as always, not giving away his intention. Six other men were seated on the two sidewalls of the wagon bed, from which a long ladder extended over the end. They looked jovial and rowdy as could be, though, when they glimpsed Jess, they reduced themselves to broad smiles, and two or three sat a little taller. Doyle set the brake and stepped down before Jess.
“If you don’t mind none about some help, the boys and me can get that rope slung for you.”
Jess wiped her brow, eyeing the group with a grin. The honorable Robin Hood and his Merry Men. “I’d appreciate that. The wagon is a good idea. If someone can steady the horse and a few of you can hold that ladder on the back of it…”
Amid a brief discussion and some more joking among the men, Jess got her crew organized. Soon after, the rope had been tied over the branch and secured to the tree trunk so that it was taut and suspended nearly level from bunkhouse to tree.
By the time they had finished, a full dozen additional ranchmen had assembled either to watch or to lend a hand. Eyeing the completed line, one asked, “Why didn’t you just tie it to the trunk?”
Reese answered for Jess. “My mama used to tie it to the trunk, but over time, the rope would slide down.” He gestured toward the setup. “She means for it to stay, that’s why. You did just fine, Miss Jess.” His cheeks crimson now, he left to load the ladder into the wagon.
They all stared at one another for a moment at the shy youth’s unusual boldness.
Jess folded her arms across her chest. “If you gentlemen would be so kind, perhaps you wouldn’t mind refilling the barrels, since your soiled clothes are going to need more than one washing.” She leveled her gaze on them like a mother scolding her children.
Taggart waddled up next to Jess and pointed with mock severity at the men. “And don’t ye even think o’ disobeyin’ her, or when your pappy gets home, she’ll have ’im blister your britches good!” He plunked his hands on his knees and roared with laughter.
Jess’s glare at his jest quickly faded into a grin. Despite their teasing, some of the men were gladly grabbing up buckets while others lifted the empty barrels into the wagon bed. That would mean one less backbreaking chore for her.
Like a black cloud, Jake rode up and took in the scene. A terrible combination of admiration and resentment cut through Jess at the sight of him.
Whiskers shadowed his jaw, and his eyes were shaded beneath his hat brim. She couldn’t read his expression, but he obviously had something on his mind.
“These men have cattle to tend to, Jess. If you could, I’d like you to get your work done on your own.”
Her blood boiled. “I was working on my own, Bennett. Your men offered to help, and if they hadn’t, I would still be trying to hang that rope!”
Glancing from Jake to Jess, Taggart rubbed his hands together in sudden cheerfulness. “Me and the lads’ll fill the barrels, boss, then we’ll be right over.” His hands stilled.
Jake and Jess stared at each other. Jake raised a stern brow at the news.
Jess glared at him reproachfully. “Red Deer and I already filled the barrels once, Bennett. We need more water. I could refill them on my own, if you would prefer it, but Red Deer shouldn’t lift heavy burdens anymore. You ought to have more regard for a woman with child.”
For a moment, Jake looked as though he had turned to stone. Then, “Taggart?”
“Aye?”
“When you and the boys fill the troughs each morning, see to the barrels, as well. We’ll keep them here behind the bunkhouse. Good enough, Jess?”
She nodded once, stiffly, then stormed away to find rug beaters and a washing bat. Her departure from the ranch couldn’t come soon enough.
***
Jake watched Jess disappear into the house while his men headed for the creek. He had given her weeks to get past her anger, but apparently it hadn’t subsided. If anything, it had gotten worse, and it seemed to surface only when he was near her. He had seen Jess talking happily with Red Deer in the creek, and she’d been smiling with the men when he rode up. Well, he’d been keeping his distance, but no longer. They had to live on the same ranch together, and he knew that she had it in her to be civil. He’d best find out what was behind her anger, because, somehow, she saw him as the cause of it. Tonight, he decided—they would have the matter out tonight.
He started to turn his horse, then stopped when Jess came out of the house again. When she noticed a wagon rolling into the yard, she set her washing tools against the house and started toward the newcomer. The bunkhouse stood in Jake’s line of vision, so he guided the horse around it. Jess’s countenance collapsed in laughter and tears when she recognized the driver.
The small Chinese man stepped down nimbly from the wagon, a broad grin across his face. As Jess hurried toward him, he bowed, his long braid of hair falling neatly down the middle of his back.
“Ho Chen?” Her cry was both sob and elation. “Ho Chen, I can’t believe it’s you!” She threw herself into his arms. Ho Chen had been her mother’s cook and her own confidant. Through the recent years of troubles in Carson City, Ho Chen had been the only one with whom Jess had shared all her fears and worries. He had been her anchor, her friend. Now he stood beside her, thumping her warmly on the back.
“I am happy to see you alive, Miss Jessie.”
“Oh, Ho Chen, I thought that you…how did you…?” She shook her head, confused. Looking on, Jake slowly dismounted and handed his reins to Doyle as Jess took Ho Chen’s hand. “Did Mr. Bennett send you here after the fire?”
“Yes. After fire, I have no job, so Mr. Bennett say, ‘You want job?’ So I take job. Now I will cook for ranchmen.”
Jess cut a glance to Jake. She asked Ho Chen, “Did you come when Lone Wolf brought me here? I don’t remember much. I…wasn’t myself for most of the trip.”
Ho Chen chose his words carefully. “I come later, with Bennett. In Carson City, I help Mr. Bennett and neighbors put out fire. Then Mr. Edmund come. We help Mr. Bennett search rubble, and after, we bury.” His brown eyelids swelled red. “Very sorry, Miss Jessie. Very sorry.” He swallowed. “Mr. Bennett tell me he put Mr. Isaac in grave and Miss Georgeanne in grave, but you not in grave. I was happy you did not die. He tell me Indian take you here.”
With this unwelcome revelation, Jess’s shoulders rose and fell with angry breaths. She released Ho Chen’s hand and turned to Jake. “You buried my family?!” At her shout, the horse Doyle was leading away spooked, and every pair of eyes turned to them. “You let everyone think I was dead?”
Jake took her arm and steered her toward the house. Ho Chen quietly went to unload his wagon.
Inside, Jess shook off Jake’s grip, despising his closeness. There were so many details about the fire that she hadn’t allowed herself to think about—couldn’t bear to think about—until now. “You found my family? You, and not a lawman?” She blinked through tears. “Does Miriam still think I’m dead?”
“Unless Edmund’s told her otherwise, Miriam thinks all the Hales were buried. Only Edmund and Ho Chen know you survived.” His voice had gentled, as if trying to calm a frightened filly. “It’s best that no one knows until the killers are found—not even Miriam. I don’t want to risk the truth getting out, and Edmund said Miriam’s inclined to gossip. If the men who attacked you in the street were evil enough to follow you home and murder your family, then they’re evil enough to come after you here, should they learn that you’re alive and discover where you are.”
Jess trembled, not hearing him. “But how?” she asked. “You would’ve had to bury four Hales. I don’t—” All at once, she knew. “Elsie!” Elsie had been upstairs with her mother and Emma. It had to be Elsie; after helping her dress, Maureen had gone downstairs to help in the kitchen. “You buried Elsie instead of me! Elsie worked as Emma’s…oh, noooo!” Jess pictured the smoldering rubble, and the men picking through the ruins of her family’s home to find them. To protect her, they had buried Elsie, and no one even knew to mourn the girl. Her parents lived in Germany.
“I’m sorry, Jess. On the ride here, Ho Chen told me that you and she were good friends.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Jess growled through her teeth.
“Would you have been able to bear the news of another loss?” he asked gently.
Jess backed away, the room swimming through hot tears. “That’s why you didn’t tell Seth who the new cook was,” she accused. “You hired Ho Chen. You hired him, then sent him away for supplies so fast that no one even knew he’d been here.”
“Red Deer was here when we rode in. She said your grief had caused you to fall ill. I knew then that if you learned I’d hired Ho Chen, you would have found out about Elsie before you were ready to. Jess, people can break under the weight of so much loss.”
More than ever, Jess wanted to go to her family at the cemetery, needed to be near them…and Elsie. And she had to find their killers. To stay away from Carson City would be impossible now. But first, she had to know what had happened. She needed to know it all. “Who else, Bennett? Who else did you bury?”
“No one else. The butler made it out the kitchen door along with Ho Chen and the maid.”
Jake was saying something about Edmund taking in Malcolm and Maureen until they found employment, but all she could think of was her conversation with Elsie while Emma splashed in the tub. Elsie, sweet Elsie…she had told her about wanting to marry and have children of her own, and Jess had promised to visit her, no matter where she went. Jess’s hands curled into painful fists. Elsie had shared so many dreams, had so much she had wanted to do.
All at once, a sob broke from her, rising into a scream. “How could God be so cruel?” she shrieked. “Elsie was young! Her whole life was ahead of her!”
“God is not cruel, Jess. He is a God of love! When He takes other people to heaven, their sorrows are gone forever.”
“But what about us? We have to go on without them. God just takes people we love away at a whim and expects us to exist with these gaping holes in our lives. And don’t you think to lecture me. You have no idea what it is to lose so much!”
Jake grasped her arms. “Isaac raised you to be a God-fearing woman, Jess. Remember Romans chapter eight, verse twenty-eight: ‘And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God.’ God had a purpose in this for you, too. Tr
ust Him. Trust Him, and let Him show you what it is.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. She shook her head.
“And in later verses, ‘For I am convinced that neither death nor life will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.’ He loves them and He loves you, and in His good time, He’ll bring you to heaven to be with Him. You’ll see them again, Jess. You’ll see all of them again.”
She jerked her arms free. “Enough! All I know is that my house was on fire, and people I loved were trapped inside. My father tried to go in to save them, but you wouldn’t let him. You fought to keep him away from the door, and then, when it was too late, you—” She broke off, realizing what she had nearly revealed. She would not give him a chance to excuse what he’d done.
Jake stepped closer. “I what, Jess?”
Jess closed her mouth. She couldn’t believe she was even speaking to him. She wanted nothing to do with him. Jess turned away, shutting him out. For a moment, she allowed herself to remember the people she had loved, to recall details about them. Elsie, and the way her face brightened as she spoke of having children. The love in her mother’s eyes that often shone through the sadness. Had her father gotten to her mother that final night, as he’d wanted to? Had they died together? Jess relived the times she had held Emma, curled up against her. She remembered her father’s hair standing on end…and how deeply he loved his Georgeanne.
And Ambrose. Ambrose, who, since childhood, had been the center of her life. Ambrose, who had promised to come back. Ambrose, whom she had believed was too stubborn to die.
“Where are they buried?”
“The cemetery northeast of town. I’ll take you there when it’s safe.”
Shaking, she faced him. “I don’t want you to take me there, Jake. I want to be as far from you as I can get.”
“Jess!”
She marched out the door, swung the washing tools onto her shoulder like clubs, and made a straight path toward the cauldrons and the ranchmen’s sacks of clothes. Behind her, the door banged shut. She whirled to face Jake, both rug beater and laundry bat ready to strike if he came close.
