by Tammy Barley
He didn’t. With a murmured apology for causing her further pain, he headed for the barn.
Warily, Jess watched him go. With angry tears streaming from her eyes, she tightened her hold on the tools, but she had no cause to use them. Jake respected her wishes and left her alone.
Chapter Eight
Jess and Red Deer beat and boiled clothes and bedding for two seemingly endless days. The men bunked on the cookhouse floor each night—after dragging the dining tables and benches outdoors with a bit of grumbling—and stored their possessions in the barn. When the bed sacks had dried late the second day, Jess restuffed them with fresh straw. The next morning, she dragged bunks, chairs, and personal belongings out of the bunkhouse until the men surmised her intent and dutifully joined in her efforts. Then she scrubbed furniture, windows, floors, and fireplace for several arduous hours, pausing only twice when Ho Chen brought her something to eat. Finally, just after sunset, the last of the odors had vanished, and she announced that the bunkhouse would no longer be a threat to anyone’s health.
Late that evening, Jess stared at the ceiling above her bed, not seeing it in the midnight shadows. She lay on top of her covers, fully dressed, waiting until she could hear snores drifting from Jake’s room. A few minutes before, she had heard his boots on the stairs. His footfall had paused, and she’d heard the cat purr before his steps had resumed. Finally, she’d heard his bedroom door close softly. After that, the noises had been muffled, and she had actually blushed as she’d imagined Jake removing his bandana and unbuttoning his shirt.
She had promised herself earlier to stay two days to see the work done. It had taken three. Now she was ready to leave. She’d prepared a sack of food and a canteen of water, and her jewelry remained secure in the folds of her petticoats. She would pay her respects to her family and to Elsie, help Edmund run the store like she used to do, and follow—or demand—the sheriff’s progress until the killers were caught. She’d carry a gun in town, if necessary, but she would stay there. She couldn’t keep away any longer.
Finally, Jess heard deep, even breathing flow from Jake’s bedroom. She lifted the sack and canteen, opened her door, and moved stealthily into the hall.
The cat was gone. Jess’s hide boots were silent as she glided down the stairs. Jake’s breathing never wavered.
Outside, she crept close to the house, attentive to anyone who might be about. There was no one. She tightened her hold on her provisions and ran.
The stable was silent. Instead of Luina, Jess determined to take Jake’s stallion. She had seen no faster horse, and if she had a decent head start, the weight of a man on any other horse would leave him hopelessly outdistanced. The black scuffed about when he heard her, snorting when she slipped into his stall. Yet with the aid of a carrot and a little soothing, she was able to slip a rope around his neck and lead him out, keeping him calm enough to saddle him.
Minutes later, Jess thrilled at the feel of his strength as they thundered over the desert. On her last escape attempt, she had followed the creek, but now she held the black to the road, as it was the fastest path away from the ranch. The cover of night made the road a less dangerous place to be.
Less than twenty minutes had passed when the stallion swiveled his ears at a presence approaching from behind. Though she doubted the lawless would be about at this late hour, Jess urged the horse to his limit.
Unfortunately, the animal had his own agenda. Puzzled at his behavior, Jess glanced back. Diaz was coming up fast, riding Luina.
The stallion grunted as he caught the mare’s scent. He turned his head and slowed against Jess’s efforts to push him on, letting Diaz come up alongside him. In a last effort, Jess dug in her heels. The stallion reared.
“Whoa, Cielos! You don’ want to spill the señorita. Down,” Diaz’s voice calmed the beast. As soon as the powerful front hooves hit earth, Diaz shot out his whirring lariat and snared Jess in a way she was quickly losing patience with.
“Diaz! Let me go!”
He stepped down from Luina, shaking his head. “I am sorry, mariquita.” He pulled the rope snug and secured her hands as lightening-fast as Jake had. “But the boss, he say, ‘You don’ let her go.’ So I don’ let you go.” He firmly lashed her hands to the saddle horn, knotting the tail end around the cinch buckle. She wasn’t going anywhere without the saddle.
Jess shot him a seething glare.
In response, Diaz muttered something under his breath. Then, “The boss, he warn me about you.”
Jess watched Diaz until he took the stallion by the harness, and then she stuck the beast with her heels. The stallion snapped up his head, nearly pulling the startled man over.
“Basta!” he snapped—whether at her or at the horse, Jess didn’t know, nor did she care.
“Bennett is wrong, Diaz. He’s keeping me against my will, and you’re helping him. That’s against the law!”
Unconcerned, he took her reins and settled onto Luina. “No matter. The law already no like me very much. Le’s go, Cielos. I’m tired.”
Jess twisted her hands to loose them from the pommel. “Diaz! The first rattlesnake I find, I’m going to put in your bed!”
“No lo va a hacer,” he said.
“What does that mean?” she demanded.
He spoke distinctly for her over his shoulder. “It means you won’t do this thing.” He glanced at her. “You are angry now, but you are a nice señorita. I am sorry you are sad, mariposa, but I like you, and I keep you safe.” He waved toward the mountains. “This place, it is no safe for a woman. The boss, he knows this.” He rode quietly for a time while she steamed and struggled with the rope.
“There is much you do not know about the man Bennett,” Diaz said, then shrugged. “Vaqueros all keep to themselves, mostly. But I know the boss, and he is different since you come here. He has sadness of his own, mariposa, but I see he cares for you.”
Jess did not take that observation well. She fought harder than ever, and the rough loops cut into her hands.
“No, don’ hurt yourself! The boss will no like it,” he said, his tone soothing. “Why would you want to harm such beautiful hands?”
“Me hurt my hands? Diaz!” she snapped. “You’re the one who tied this so tight!”
Diaz didn’t debate the point. He said nothing further, and neither did Jess. They rode the rest of the way in silence, Cielos almost pleasant as he trotted alongside Luina.
As they approached the house, Diaz let out a shrill whistle to alert Jake, then reined in the horses near the porch. Doyle stepped out of the bunkhouse, pulling suspenders over his bare shoulders as he jogged over.
“She get away again?”
With a smile, Diaz shook his head, loosening the cinch for his mare. “No, the señorita only take Cielos for a ride.” He winked up at Jess. “He wanted to chase the stars, eh, mariposa?”
“Hardly,” Jess muttered with the raise of an eyebrow. “If he’d shown as much interest in the night sky as he did in Luina, I’d be waving to you from the moon.” The two men smiled.
Jess was growing tired, and she waggled her fingers at Diaz, who came over to untie her. “On the bright side of things, at least I got to be lashed to this inbred mutt and dragged across the desert.” Despite herself, Jess chuckled with the men at her own surly humor.
“It could have been worse,” Doyle said with a grin. “You could have been tied on behind Diaz before you laundered his duds.”
Jess laughed out loud, savoring the feel after having missed it for so long.
Heels pounded down the stairs inside the ranch house. Moments later, Jake flew out the door, his unbuttoned shirt stuffed into his trousers. For once, he was without a hat. Jess’s levity faded.
Jake sized up the situation and spoke to Diaz. “What happened?”
Diaz unwound the rope from Jess’s bruised wrists, careful not to harm her further. “No muy mucho, boss. I went out for a midnight ride and the lovely señorita here kindly accompanied me.” He eyed h
er in concern when her hands were freed, but Jess smiled to let him know the pain was bearable.
Jake stepped closer. “Jess?”
She didn’t answer. With his muscular arms, Doyle reached up and eased her down from the saddle. Jess nodded in appreciation.
Jake glanced at her wrists but didn’t comment. “Diaz, put the horses away and get some sleep. Both of you, get some sleep. I’ll keep an eye on her for the rest of the night.”
Before he left, Doyle quirked a playful grin at Jess, his teeth flashing white in his dark face. “Don’t you go nowhere, you hear?”
She slanted him an equally friendly glare as he strolled back to the bunkhouse.
With a grand gesture, Diaz swept his hat from his head and held it to his heart without jest. “It was a very great honor to ride with you tonight, señorita. I hope your hands are better soon.”
“Good night,” she said, and he led the horses away.
Jake looked down at her, his fists on his hips.
Jess strode past him. “Save the lecture, Bennett. I’m too tired.”
Jake followed her and pulled the door shut behind them. “I can send someone to get Red Deer, if you like,” he said. “She could help you dress for bed, and maybe put something on those cuts.”
“No.” Jess inspected her stinging wrists by the moonlight coming in through the window. “I don’t want to wake Red Deer. I’ll tend my wrists on my own.”
“Hmm.” Jake appeared to have his own opinion about that. He lifted a lamp from the mantel, lit it, then disappeared down the short hall between the fireplace and the stairs.
Alone, Jess collapsed on the sofa in exhaustion. The physical work she had expended that day as she’d scrubbed the bunkhouse compounded the aches she’d invited by spending two days hauling water and beating laundry. Her burning eyes fell shut. She would rest for only a minute. Fragments of odd dreams flashed through her mind. The sofa felt like a feather bed beneath her. Its pillow met her cheek, the cushions slipped under her feet. She’d rest for only a moment. For only a moment…
***
When Jake had found what he was looking for and returned from the kitchen, Jess was asleep. Knowing she needed the rest, he didn’t disturb her. He hung a small pot of water over the fire and fed a few logs to the dancing flames. As the water heated, he broke off several sage leaves from one of the dried branches Red Deer kept in the kitchen and dropped them in the water. While he waited for them to steep, he took the lamp from the mantle and set it on a table near Jess.
His gaze fell on her hair. It looked as soft as sable. Threads of it shone like copper in the firelight. In the past several weeks, her skin had turned lightly golden from the sun. Though he meant to turn back to the simmering pot, he remained, recalling the day she’d taken Luina and set out for Carson City. On the way home, he had realized that she needed to be outdoors, needed to chase the wind.
She needed the freedom to ride off her loss—and to feel close to the Almighty.
Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow, he would take her with him when he and the cattlemen went to round up the nearby cattle. She had finished helping Red Deer with the laundry, and Ho Chen was here to cook. Jess would have no reason to stay behind. He would take her along tomorrow, and any day after, when he could.
Jake returned to the hearth to check the medicinal brew. The water had begun to resemble tea. A few minutes later, the sage remedy had darkened to a greenish brown, and he lowered two strips of white cotton cloth into the pot—a healing method of the Paiutes. He fetched another bowl of water from the kitchen, along with a pair of soft towels, which he set on the table near the lamp. He pulled the steaming pot from the flames and set it on the hearth to cool. Finally, he lowered his body to the edge of the sofa where Jess lay. Her breathing was even and deep.
“You go ahead and rest,” he murmured. “I’m going to have a look at those hands.”
He lifted one from where it lay among her skirts and studied the wrist, turning it over. There were a few cuts, and she would certainly develop bruises. Jess stirred, pulling her arm back, and Jake let her. After she had slept a few minutes longer, he lifted her hand again. Reaching to the side, he dampened a towel in the bowl of clean water, squeezed it gently, and touched it lightly to her wounds. Diaz was a good man with a rope, probably the best he’d ever seen, and Jake knew that he hadn’t done this. Jess had done it, trying to get away. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he would not allow her to throw herself into greater danger. So, short of allowing his men to be jousted from their saddles or otherwise find themselves at her mercy, there was no choice but to let them snare her like a rabbit when they caught her in flight. She might be less inclined to leave, however, once she was given the freedom to ride with the men.
Jake’s eyes shifted between her wrist and her face as he painstakingly tended her cuts. He swabbed away every speck of dried blood on both hands. That done, he got up to search for the softest cotton fabric he could find. He decided on a calico tablecloth with a rose blossom print. If Olivia were here, she’d willingly part with it to help someone else. To muffle the sound, he carried the cloth into the kitchen to tear off two makeshift bandages.
He scooped up the pot of sage brew and sat beside Jess once again. The tea was warm but no longer hot. He wrung all but a moderate dampness from the white cotton cloth, now lightly stained with tea. Then, careful to remove the sage leaves, he wrapped a healing strip around each of her wrists. Afterward, he wound the strips of rose calico around each of the two damp cloths and knotted them to keep them in place.
When he had finished, he put away the bowls, then returned to stare thoughtfully down at her again. He debated taking her to her room, but in the end, he spread a heavy quilt over her and left her to sleep where she was.
Jake turned down the lamp and went up to his room for the night.
He awoke before dawn and left without making a sound. When the sun lifted its face over the edge of the earth, he was on Cielos, headed west, two tiny yellow roses clutched in his hand.
***
Jess awoke to a great brightness in the room. Given how refreshed she felt, she guessed she had slept half the morning away. Wanting it to last just a little longer, she rested with her eyes closed and let the details of her surroundings come to her as they would.
She was on Jake’s sofa with a heavy blanket draped over her. She stretched and relished the warmth of the coverlet as cool air brushed her face. There was a deep, wonderful quiet and stillness, with none of the rattling and shouting that rose from the streets of Carson City. She sat up, certain that, with a renewed heart such as she had, she would undoubtedly find much to enjoy that day.
Jake’s wide front window sparkled with sunshine, and through it, she could see the men going about their usual tasks near the corrals and barn. The fireplace crackled and flickered, and from the kitchen came sounds of someone moving about. By the lightness of the steps, she assumed it was Red Deer. Jess blinked away the last traces of sleep.
An unlit lamp sat on the low table beside her, and near the far end of the table dangled two small feet wearing child-sized moccasins. Jess smiled and turned her eyes to Jake’s chair to see a little Indian boy with a sweet grin slap a hand over his mouth and giggle. He wasn’t at all distrustful like Red Deer and some of the other Paiutes had been at first. Laughing to herself, Jess pushed the large quilt aside and swung her feet to the floor.
“Good morning, young sir,” she greeted the boy softly.
He dropped his hand and tilted his head to the side. He was perhaps five or so, with a round face, slightly flared nose, and black eyes like Red Deer’s—by the bobbed hair, she knew this must be the son of Red Deer’s dead sister.
He scooted to the front edge of the chair, slowly raised his hands, and spread his fingers. When Jess smiled in confusion, he pointed to her hands. She lifted them, noticing the bandages of floral calico wrapped around her wrists. Bennett. Bennett must have wrapped her cuts. The boy grinned and nodded. Jess grinned
back, thinking that he admired her fancy bandages.
“He tells you his name, Jessica,” said Red Deer, poking in her head from the kitchen. She spoke in Paiute to the boy, and he held up his hands again to show Jess. “We call him Two Hands. He likes to count things on his hands.” The boy spoke to Red Deer, and she answered him kindly. The only word Jess could understand was her name.
“Jessica,” said Two Hands, and he left his chair to stand before her. He raised his small hands to her cheeks.
“He hasn’t seen many white people, Jessica,” Red Deer explained. “He sees the ranchmen, but they are brown from working in the sun.”
Two Hands looked closely at Jess’s forehead and slowly rubbed his thumbs against her much lighter skin. The boy frowned in bewilderment at his dark thumbs. The white didn’t come off. Red Deer smiled and returned to the kitchen, and Two Hands leaned close to inspect the white woman’s unusual green eyes.
Just then, Jake strode in through the door. He glanced at Jess and Two Hands, then lifted a coffeepot and filled one of the mugs on the hearth, motioning an inquiry to Jess. In reply, she made a disgusted face. Beside her, Two Hands made the same face, and he and Jess shared a laugh.
To her surprise, Jake spoke to Two Hands in the Paiute language. Two Hands commented to Jake, then Jake translated for Jess. “He says the Great Father painted your eyes like the cat’s eyes.” Jake’s voice held unexpected warmth, and Jess lowered her gaze, turning her attention to her new little friend. Two Hands touched the floral bandages with curiosity. Jake set his mug on the mantel and took a seat by Jess.
At his nearness, her heart leapt pleasantly. She was alarmed at her reaction to him, and she wished she could move further away, but she didn’t want to push the boy aside to do so.
Pulling her arm across his knee, Jake whipped a bowie knife from a sheath on his belt. He eased the blade smoothly through the top strip of calico, then replaced it in its sheath. Two Hands leaned close as Jake carefully unwound the bandage.
