by Tammy Barley
“Mm-hmm. And your mind?”
Jess rubbed her forehead and sighed. “There are men between here and Carson City who might want me dead. And since the war continues on, and since townspeople have made up their minds to side with the North, I won’t be able to help run a business there. I’d be burned out or run out of town. Or worse. And Edmund and Miriam could be hurt this time.”
Again, Jake said nothing but left her to sort it out. She grasped a fistful of his shirt, partly to steady herself, partly entertaining the thought of strangling him. She slumped against him.
“How long, Bennett? How long before it will be safe for me to visit the cemetery?”
“I’d give it time for Tom to find those men, and to be sure folks have forgotten the Hales, so you won’t be recognized. Next spring, maybe. You have a job until then. Longer, if you like.”
Jess nodded, struggling to accept what she knew was right. “I’ll stay, then. Until next spring.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Jess.”
“Bennett?” Jess thought her voice sounded sleepy.
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad you came after me. This time,” she added.
Jake chuckled, his chest vibrating gently against her back.
Jess was afraid she was going to be sick. She was so hot…dizzy. She knew she was badly shaken. The wolves…they’d been so close. She could smell them on her. Could feel her blood oozing…
Darkness.
Chapter Eleven
The dark haze hadn’t left her, though the surroundings had become vaguely familiar, and she realized they were nearing the ranch. All at once, Jake was no longer behind her, and then she was in his arms.
She heard the door swing open. “Hold her, my friend,” Lone Wolf said. “I will move this closer to the fire.” A heavy piece of furniture rumbled against the floor, and then she was lowered to the couch. “What has happened?”
“Wolves.” Jake’s voice was quiet, tense.
Jess heard him leave the room, and then she heard movements in the kitchen. The front door must have been open, because several pairs of boots sounded on the porch. One of the ranchmen called out, “Jake?”
“In here.”
Jess tried to pull herself from the cloying haze. Jake was beside her again. Her skirts had been pushed back from her leg injuries. She heard Taggart’s voice. “What’s happened to her?”
A damp cloth was pressed to the back of her calf, and she grunted in pain.
“She’s been bit,” Jake said. “This cut is deep.”
He and Lone Wolf spoke quietly as her calf first felt cold from being drenched, then burned so fiercely that her head cleared a little. “Bennett,” she moaned, trying to pull away from their ministrations.
“It’s whiskey, Jess. We’re cleaning out the bites.”
She pushed herself up on her elbows, then rolled over on her stomach to give them easier access to her wounds.
“Look at her dress.” That was Reese. Jess became aware of the light of several kerosene lamps. She was facing Jake’s desk.
Jake glanced up from where he knelt. “How are you doing, Jess?”
She grunted again while he poured more whiskey over her leg. “Famously.”
“Wolf?” Taggart asked her.
Jess nodded, glancing up to his mop of orange hair and his blue eyes. “Five, but only one took me for mutton.” She hissed when a dry cloth was pressed firmly on the wounds. Her sense of humor was fading fast.
Reese asked, “What did he look like?”
“Like a Yankee in a fur coat.”
“As bad as that, Jess?” Jess didn’t see Jake’s smile, but she heard it in his voice.
She smiled with him. “Well, worse than some, I suppose.” He released her leg, then wrapped a clean towel around it. She could feel fresh blood seeping into the cloth.
“I’ll be right back,” Jake assured her.
Jess glanced at the stairs. Jake took them two at time, then disappeared into the middle room upstairs. He emerged carrying a wooden box, which he set on the table when he came downstairs. Jess leaned up on both elbows, watching as he lifted off the lid and brought out scissors, needle, and thread.
Jess groaned and dropped her forehead to the arm of the sofa. When she lifted her face again, Taggart was staring into it. Without a word, he dragged Jake’s big chair over and settled himself down beside her, taking her slender hand in his rough, brawny one and holding it tight. Jake tied a snug knot in the thread.
His eyes met Jess’s. “This will hurt some,” he warned her.
Jess faced away from him again, clenching her jaw with resolution. “Just get it over with, please.”
Other boots pounded on the porch, then more ranchmen joined the group. Jess felt like a spectacle. My fault, she reminded herself. My own fault.
Lone Wolf looked down at her. “Should I get Red Deer?”
“Is she sleeping?”
“Yes.”
“Then let her sleep.”
Jake began the dreaded process. Jess was careful to let her injured leg lie still while he stitched it, but the other shook almost enough to break the arm of the sofa. When she started to perspire, Jake paused to let her catch her breath. She looked around to notice that Diaz and Doyle had joined the crowd of spectators.
“Doesn’t anybody sleep?” she growled. Then she remembered to ask Diaz about Luina.
Jake had started stitching again.
“She is fine,” Diaz assured her. “Mostly scratches like yours. The wounds are shallow. They will heal.”
Finally, Jake finished. Jess had counted seven stitches—seven in, seven tugs, seven out. After he had knotted and snipped the thread, relief flooded her, followed all too quickly by the urge to expel her supper.
Jess tore her hand away from Taggart’s and struggled to her feet, surprising her onlookers. She cried out when her weight came down on her foot, but it was unavoidable. She pushed past the helping hands and bolted out the door.
Her face felt flushed, damp with sweat. The outhouse was in view.
She wasn’t going to make it.
She flung herself around the back corner of the house, fell to her good knee behind a clump of sage, and rapidly cleared her stomach.
To her chagrin, her audience had followed her.
That unpleasant fact was made considerably worse by their loud cheers, followed by their idiotic evaluation of her disgorging prowess.
“Is that all you got? Bring it up from the toes, girlie!”
“My granny said it helps if ye swaller tobacco juice,” someone supplied.
“Nope. Flies. Dunk ’em in honey and swallow ’em wings and all.”
Jess heaved again. When she could catch her breath, she sat up, fuming. A latecomer handed her a dipper of water. She rinsed out her mouth and then drank, forced to listen to the ribbing the men gave her. When she finally looked up at all the grinning, remorseless faces, she shot them a glare that said she would get even.
“All right, everyone,” Jake said above her, “let’s get some sleep.” He grasped her arms from behind and lifted her to her feet.
The crowd broke up, still chuckling.
***
When Jess made her way downstairs the next morning, Red Deer told her that Jake had left the ranch.
“Oh? Where did he go?” Jess asked, surprised at the disappointment she felt.
Red Deer hung a pot of water over the fire, then carefully stretched her back. She was five months along now. “He went to sell cows from the roundup. He left this for you.”
With a friendly smile, Red Deer took down a letter from the mantel and handed it to her. Then she gathered up a towel that had been hung to dry and folded it as she waddled off toward the kitchen.
Jess opened the brief note, pleased that Jake had chosen to tell her of his plans in a personal way and hadn’t just left a verbal message for someone to pass on.
The writing on the page was straightforward and bold, just like its author.
>
Jess,
I’ll be gone a few days driving the first group of cattle to a settlement north of here. Lone Wolf is in charge until I get back. If you need anything, ask him or Doyle or Diaz.
Be good.
Jake
Reluctant to face the men after her humiliation the night before, Jess wandered about for a time, smoothing this, straightening that, and growing accustomed to the mild stinging in her leg. She had woken to find that, regrettably, little was left of her favorite yellow dress, so she had dressed in the plainer yellow instead, still buckling on the lovely, braided leather belt. Jess realized she was hiding indoors. That was the coward’s way. With Two Hands at her side, she left the house to pay Luina a visit.
The mare was worse off than she had thought. Jess felt absolutely low when she entered her stall to see so many dark scratches against her fair palomino hide. Jess pulled some carrot sticks from her pocket and fed them to her. Luina didn’t seem put out with her; she nibbled the carrots contentedly. Jess stroked her neck and withers, her guilt clawing deep when she saw that blood was seeping through the bandage on one of her hind legs.
“I’m sorry, girl. I surely didn’t mean for you to get hurt.” Two Hands entered the stall and petted Luina’s nose. He looked up at Jess expectantly, and she handed him a few of the carrot sticks. He accepted them gratefully and fed them to the mare.
Thinking about the previous night, Jess decided a prayer was in order. I suppose I haven’t talked to You in some time, Lord, but I want to thank You for saving me from the wolves last night, and for helping Bennett shoot straight. Jess smoothed a hand over Luina’s back. I don’t know why You keep bringing me back here—well, in truth, I love it here, but it’s impossible for me to do ranch work for the rest of my life, isn’t it? She sighed. Lord, I want to be near where my family is buried, but it seems that You want me to stay here for now. So I’ll stay. Though sometimes, I wish You would tell me why You want me here. I feel like a horse that’s running with blinders on, but I suppose that’s what faith is. So I’ll keep running and, as much as I can, trust that You’re the one holding the reins.
When Jess looked up, Two Hands was near the entrance, watching the goings-on in the ranch yard while he waited for her. Mindful of her stitches, Jess walked slowly toward him. She squeezed the hand he placed into hers, then went to see where she could be of use.
***
Jess was heading toward the cookhouse to lend Ho Chen a hand when she noticed Red Deer preparing to wash the men’s clothes again. She immediately changed directions, sending Two Hands to the cookhouse in her place. She lifted a bucket and began to fill one of the cauldrons. “Shouldn’t you be doing lighter chores, Red Deer?”
Red Deer smiled softly, an empty bucket in her hand. “A woman once told me that if an expecting mother will not work, then she will give birth to a child who is idle.”
They shared a grin. “Who said that?”
Red Deer’s smile faltered. She continued filling the cauldron. “My white woman friend.”
The way she said it told Jess that she did not wish to say anything more about it.
Several hours later, Jess was scrubbing trousers on the washboard. The soap burned her hands, and the cuts above her ankle stung, but she ignored them and kept working to relieve Red Deer of as much of the load as possible. Despite Red Deer’s assurances, Jess could tell that her friend was tired. She also knew many women experienced the same increased fatigue during pregnancy. When her mother had been expecting Emma, she had slept constantly.
“Afternoon, Jess,” sang out one of the passing cattlemen who had witnessed her debasement behind the house the night before. “You done any spewin’ in the sage this morning?”
She scowled at him.
Another one found a reason to come over. He clapped a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have nothin’ to be ashamed of, Jess. In fact, you can be proud. Why, before last night, none of us would have thought there was a woman what could retch like a mule.” His eyes glinting with laughter, he started to walk away, then turned around to add, “You know, your face is gettin’ red. You should put your hat on.”
Jess wanted to fling a comment after him that he knew perfectly well why her face was red, but she didn’t dare draw any more attention to herself. The teasing was harmless, she knew, but she only wished the skunks weren’t enjoying it so much.
One by one, the others paused in their tasks to do a bit of friendly needling. Finally, Taggart made his way over. Anticipating the sort of comment he was going to make, she bent determinedly over the tub, scrubbing a pair of britches with nearly enough vigor to shred them.
“I can’t tell ye how sorry I am, Jess.”
She glanced up in surprise. “You’re sorry?”
When his blue eyes glimmered, she knew she would regret asking. “Aye. We’re all still tendin’ the cows today. By the way ye were clasping the ground last eve, I thought ye’d found gold, for sure, and the lot of us could pay someone else to work.” At her thankless glower, he restrained his mirth, but he still had to wipe tears from his eyes. He nodded toward the tub with a hearty compliment. “You’re doin’ a fine job with the britches. A fine job.”
As he ambled off, her eyes hurled invisible darts at his back. She grabbed up the trousers, dashed the soap over them, and began to scrub again.
Just then, a clever grin spread over her face.
***
The next morning brought with it a fresh breeze, and Jess hummed merrily as she hung up the last of the clean, damp clothing and called cheery greetings to each one of the cattlemen as they passed by. Sheepish about their ruthless teasing the day before, they returned her greetings with extreme politeness, calling her “ma’am” or offering to lend a hand, should she have need of it. She responded with an outpouring of gratitude and assurances that, yes, she certainly would prevail upon their kindness, should she have a need.
The men went away, glancing at one another anxiously.
When evening came and Jess was just as charming as she had been all day, they began to relax, glad that she apparently had forgiven them. She overheard someone remind the others that they best not tease her again to the extent they had the day before. “After all, good humor does have its limits,” he said.
While they ate dinner in the cookhouse, Jess remained out behind the bunkhouse, humming again as she took down the wind-dried shirts, union suits, and pants. The sun was setting when she returned the neatly folded clothes to the men with a smile as pure as golden honey.
***
Jake returned at sunrise, then rode out again with twenty men. Instead of tending the cattle, they headed east to search for signs of wild mustangs, which had been seen, according to reports, near Pyramid Lake, thirty miles away. Ho Chen went along to cook the meals, following the group in the chuck wagon. Having to care for her stitches, Jess had stayed behind to clean out the stable.
When they finally dismounted at noon, Jake noticed several of the men look at one another strangely. As they walked around, their conversations grew stilted. Every one of them seemed to have an odd hitch in his step. Bemused, Jake accepted a mug of coffee from Ho Chen and leaned against the chuck wagon to observe them more closely. The men were silent now, shifting oddly in their drawers. A few reached around to check things, then all at once they exchanged horrified looks.
Jake frowned. “What’s got you boys squirming in your seats?”
The men looked at him, reluctant to answer. One named Will slowly hitched forward. “I think Miss Jess done paid us back, is all.”
Jake hadn’t expected that. “Paid you back? For what?”
“For teasin’ her about vomitin’, I reckon.”
Jake glanced at Ho Chen. The small man bent studiously over his cooking, seeming not to notice. “What did she do?”
Will sighed. “I think she done snipped the buttons out o’ the seats of our johns.”
Jake threw back his head and laughed in a way he hadn’t laughed in years.
He wiped his eyes as his mirth gradually subsided, and when he managed to speak again, he was able to use his tone of authority.
“I suggest you boys go apologize to the lady, then get yourselves put back together. You’ll miss dinner, but I’m sure Ho Chen will keep it for your supper.”
With red faces all around, they mumbled their agreement, then made their ways into their saddles with slow, precise movements.
Jake rested an arm on a wagon wheel while he watched his men ride for home. Finally, he allowed another smile to cross his face.
Ho Chen came up beside him, coffeepot in hand. “You are not unhappy with Miss Jessie?”
Jake shook his head, his smile widening. “I don’t know how we ever got along without her.”
***
Jess had been laying fresh straw in the stable, and she came outside to watch the men return. She leaned on a rake as the group of humbled men reined in their horses nearby. Hats came off all around.
Jess smiled broadly at them. “What can I do for you gentlemen?”
Again, Will spoke for them. “If’n you could, Miss Jess, we’d like you to forgive us for behavin’ like ill-mannered hogs, and, if it weren’t too much bother, ma’am, we’d like to ask you to sew our buttons back on.”
Jess leaned away from the rake and stretched. “I don’t think so. Oh, I forgive you, of course, but don’t you suppose you’d be more inclined to mind your manners if you sewed the buttons on yourselves?”
She gazed at them amid murmurs of “Yes, ma’am,” then she bent again to sweep away the straw. “I left needles and thread for all of you in the bunkhouse,” she called out. “Good day, gentlemen.”
Seeing that they’d been dismissed, they reluctantly turned their horses away. The men loosed them in a corral, then shuffled to the bunkhouse.
It was nearly half an hour later when they began to trickle out. They mounted their horses and rode past her, tipping hats respectfully and mumbling appreciative words for her good kindness in laying out the needles and thread.
