Love's Rescue

by Tammy Barley

  She was going there to get him out.

  Jess held up her skirts and hurried to the house, promising herself the sun wouldn’t set on her until she was somewhere on the other side of Nevada Territory, well on her way to the States.

  In her room, Jess tossed aside her gown and pulled on one of two pairs of trousers that Reese had outgrown months ago. She’d planned to alter them to fit a couple of the Paiute boys, but now she needed them herself. After flattening out the second pair on her bed, she rolled into it two shirts—one cotton, one flannel—which she had borrowed unashamedly from Jake’s room. These she rolled into her bedroll. She pulled on a third shirt, also flannel, and shoved the buttons through their holes. Immediately, she rolled back the sleeves that hung well past her hands; the shirttails fell to her knees. At the softness of the fabric, an image of Jake filled her mind, threatening to deter her conviction. One part of her ached to stay at the ranch with Bennett. The other part knew that she had to go to Ambrose.

  Half sighing, half groaning, Jess stuffed the unwieldy shirttails into her pantlegs. She buttoned the waist of the trousers, then gathered it in with the braided leather belt that had been Olivia’s.

  She retrieved her saddlebags from the doorway, making sure that the four pouches of gold coins she had brought from the store’s safe were still there. She withdrew Ambrose’s letters, still bound with ribbons, and tucked them next to the jewelry box Jake had made for her in a drawer of her dressing table. She would be back, and, Lord willing, so would Ambrose.

  Jess buckled the gun belt around her waist, threw a few items into the empty saddlebag, and hurried downstairs. From the water bucket in the kitchen, she filled two canteens, then stuffed a sack with dried fruit, jerky, beans, and the fresh biscuits Ho Chen had left. She grabbed up her things, pulled her hat from its peg, and headed out into the sun.

  Though the horses had been put away, the cattlemen and many of the Paiutes were still milling about the yard. They stood in groups, talking quietly. Jess realized as she passed them that Jake must have given the men the day to themselves out of respect for Red Deer. She was touched by the gesture.

  She would miss them. Snow would soon block the roads over the Rockies, so it would be spring before she could get through to see them again. Yes, she would miss them all, but she had to go.

  Jess strode over to the mustang corral, stopping near the gate and swinging the saddlebags over the top rail. She laid the rest of her gear on the dusty ground. The men’s conversations trailed off, and they started to gather near the corral, openly observing her.

  Jess ignored them except for saying a quick word of thanks when they stepped out of her way. She walked past them into the stable, then returned with saddle and bridle, which she set up beside the saddlebags. Inside the corral, she caught one of the mustangs and brought him out. Several minutes later, the horse was fully saddled and impatient to stretch his legs.

  Jake stepped through the crowd and came to stand beside her. “And where are you off to now, Jess?”

  “Chicago, to my brother.”

  Jake stared at her. She didn’t flinch.

  “He’s in a Union prison, Jess.”

  The cattlemen silently exchanged glances.

  “Yes, he is, and if I don’t help him, he could die there. I’m not going to let that happen.”

  Diaz took a tentative step forward. “Your brother is not dead? I thought la mariposa mourned him.”

  “I did. He was missing and presumed dead, and I mourned him, but I’ve just received word that he’s alive.”

  Her voice wavered. She felt in awe of the Almighty’s love…and despair at the look she saw spreading through the ranch hands’ eyes. To her, it resembled withdrawal, contempt, and a sense of betrayal.

  Jess hadn’t expected that. Her mouth went dry. She had become a traitor, leaving them—and their apparent Union sympathies—to go to her Confederate brother. But hadn’t Jake once said that most people know honest men stand on both sides of the conflict, and that the worst trouble comes from the fanatics? Still, she saw that gleam in their eyes, that hatred. Unable to confront it, she completed her task with her face averted. Then she addressed Jake, though all could hear what she said.

  “I’m taking the mustang and saddle. I believe my three horses should be a fair enough trade.” She untied the lead and gathered up the reins.

  Jake’s hand stopped her. “No, Jess. We need to discuss this.”

  Jess lifted her face, letting him see the score of emotions there. “I wish you could feel what I’m feeling. It’s as if the Lord has raised Ambrose from the dead. Do you have any notion what it is to lose everyone you love and then gain one precious person back again? You lost your wife and daughter. Imagine if you walked through the door of your house and they were standing there waiting for you.” She could tell by his expression and by the tilt of his head that he meant to stop her from going. “Jake, if that really happened, if Olivia and Sadie were really there, you’d go to them, and nothing would stop you.”

  “Ambrose is in the middle of a war.”

  Her stubbornness flared. “You’d still go to them even if they were.”

  “Ambrose is in prison. He isn’t getting shot at anymore.” His voice remained calm.

  Hers didn’t. “Ambrose wrote to me about men he knew who had been in prison camps. Knew. Do you know what that means? It means they didn’t survive it. Ambrose isn’t safer in prison. The conditions there are horrible! And now there are no prisoner exchanges! Jake, I refuse to have my brother returned to me only to have him die in prison!”

  Jake didn’t budge. “There are outlaws out there other than the ones who attacked the ranch, and the Plains Indians are warriors who are angry with the white men. Whether you fool them dressed as a man or get found out as a woman, things could go badly for you.”

  “I heard the men say that a federal colonel and eight companies of soldiers are guarding the Oregon Trail along the Sweetwater River and the North Platte now. From what I’ve heard, there hasn’t been any trouble with the Plains Indians since he’s been there.”

  “It’s not possible, Jess.”

  “It is possible.”

  “It’s two thousand miles. You’ll get snowed in before you get there.”

  “The Pony could have ridden it in two weeks.”

  “Pony Express riders changed horses every ten miles, and they rode all night. Don’t you see why I can’t let you do this?”

  “I’m not asking your permission. I only wanted you to understand why I have to go.”

  Jake stared at Jess. “Ambrose doesn’t know that your parents are gone,” he said.

  Jess blinked. “I’ll have to tell him.”

  The broad shoulders stiffened. “Jess, what will Ambrose’s life be like if you die on your way east? Have you considered that? He would have no one, just like you had no one. Would you want that for him? He would spend the rest of his days knowing he might have had a sister to grow old with, if only she hadn’t died trying to help him. He’s been in a war, Jess. How much more loss do you think he can take?”

  Jess understood what he was saying, and she didn’t try to deny the logic of it, but neither did she believe that Ambrose had much of a chance at having a life if she didn’t get him out of prison. “I’ve thought of all these things, Jake, and I know the challenges I’ll face, but the end of the war is nowhere in sight. Ho Chen said his country has been at war for twelve years now. Twelve years! I can’t just wait for the war to end and hope Ambrose is still alive then.” Saddened by the cool way he regarded her, she lowered her voice. “I believe the danger in traveling there will be minimal. The difficulty will come in getting him out.”

  “Getting him out? Jess…”

  Not wanting to leave matters like this between her and Jake, she tried once more. “The day you and I met in Carson City, I told you that if a telegraph operator didn’t help me, I’d go east and track Ambrose down myself.”

  Jake grunted and looked away.<
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  “You knew then that’s what I meant to do, if all other options failed. That’s what I intend to do now. If I’m not able to get him out, I’ll at least see to his needs.” Jess shifted her gaze to the others. Every one of the cattlemen had heard her, and the Paiutes, if they hadn’t comprehended, at least had gotten the drift of it. Not one of them had moved from where he was standing.

  She couldn’t leave without explaining—or at least trying to. Turning in a circle to face each of them directly, she took in their familiar faces, one by one. “I’ve lost my family, my home, and yesterday, my dearest friend. Two days ago, in Carson City, I learned that my brother is alive. He is in prison, as you heard. He’s in a Northern prison.”

  The ranch hands watched her, their expressions inscrutable. Jess mustered her courage and went on. “Since I arrived here, not one of you has treated me unkindly, despite my origins. I came to feel like I was a part of you, a part of the ranch. I felt like I belonged.” Her eyes settled on Doyle, who towered above the others. “My family never owned another human being, nor did they condone slavery. But when my brother joined with the local militiamen to protect our homes, the Union army ordered a surrender and demanded they send the Federals their guns. Only then did his militia join the South.” Still, the men held back from her. “I only told you so I could apologize. If you’re going to think of me as a traitor after today, I thought you’d best know why.”

  Jess led the mustang around. She looked once more at these people she had come to love, wondering when she would see them again. After her departure, she didn’t much expect she’d be welcomed back.

  Her eyes touched on Taggart and Reese. Beside Reese stood Seth, who could neither read nor write, yet who sent frequent letters home. Next to him was Diaz, with his love for horses. There was little Two Hands, who appeared uncertain but brave. Beside him stood Lone Wolf, holding his newborn son.

  They were tough, rugged men who carved toy animals for Indian children, loaned a frayed woolen scarf to a hapless bookkeeper, and helped a couple of women hang a clothesline. They were men who found pleasure in a good game of cards, who risked their lives to look after some cows, and who had inspired and captured her heart.

  Standing Bear had been listening nearby. Now the gray-haired man walked up to Jess and laid an ancient hand on her shoulder.

  “‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends,’” he quoted John 15:13 with a gentle smile. “I see you have this great love for your brother. I will pray that the Good Spirit Father keeps you safe on your journey, friend of Red Deer.”

  Jess lifted her eyes to his wrinkled face. “Thank you.”

  She turned and pulled at the reins, and the horse followed her. The ranch hands slowly parted, making a path for her. She had nearly reached the edge of the crowd when Ho Chen stepped in front of her. Jess smiled, glad for this man who had brought so much joy and wisdom to her life. When he didn’t move aside, she looked at him wonderingly.

  “What is it?”

  Ho Chen bowed slightly. “You will see.”

  Jess wasn’t certain what he meant, but he said nothing more. She led the horse on.

  “Reese?” Jake’s deep voice broke the silence behind her. “Go saddle the roan for me.”

  Jess’s feet stilled, her rigid back to the men. She drew a few shaky breaths, afraid to hope what Jake had meant by that.

  “I’ll do it, boss,” Reese said. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll be going on the gray.”

  Jess spun.

  “I will ride the gray, cabrito,” Diaz told Reese. “You take the buckskin, and don’ whine none. We keep la mariposa waiting.” He winked at Jess and followed the boy into the stable.

  Jess stared at Jake in amazement. He held her gaze boldly.

  Taggart tugged the waistband of his trousers more securely over his paunch. “Why are ye surprised? Ye are part of this ranch, and ranch folk do for one another, just as ye have done for us since ye came here. Ye should know by now it’s our way. Maybe it is how the good Lord meant for us to be.”

  “But—”

  Taggart stepped closer. “We are not at war in this place, but that’s not saying we don’t sympathize plenty with those who are.” With that declaration, he huffed after the others.

  Jess’s small smile spread larger as the men hurried to ready mounts for the journey east.

  Ho Chen remained just as he had been, except that now a mild, enigmatic grin curved on his mouth. Jake was going with her, and Ho Chen had known that he would.

  Jess shared his smile. Her heart soared.

  Jake walked up beside her, lifting his eyebrows. “Olivia wasn’t nearly this much trouble.”

  Jess laughed out loud. “Neither is a cattle stampede.”

  Jake smiled at that. “The boys and I need to get some things together.”

  Within five minutes, Jake returned from the house. Their three other companions hurried over from the bunkhouse by way of Ho Chen’s kitchen. They added guns, clothes, bedrolls, and provisions to their saddles.

  Diaz, Taggart, and Reese mounted up, and with the freedom of britches, Jess easily gained her saddle. Jake turned to the others. He shook hands with several of them, then clasped wrists with Lone Wolf.

  “I will watch after your ranch, as always,” Lone Wolf said. “The work will be good.”

  Jake considered this, then nodded. “Doyle will be your right hand, if you have a need.” He thought a moment. “Sell the mustang stallions. Breed the mares with the Morgans, come March. After roundup, deliver the beeves we’re contracted for. The contracts are in my desk. Sell all but a hundred of the rest.” He smiled at Jess. “We’re going to turn this place into a horse ranch next year.”

  While the two clasped wrists again, Jess nudged her horse over to Doyle. She reached her gloved hand toward him.

  For a moment, Doyle ignored her hand as he met her gaze. Then slowly, he lifted his hand and shook hers. “You keep yourself safe, Jess. This ranch needs you.”

  Seeing a mixture of acceptance and understanding reflected in the faces of the others, Jess smiled tremulously at Doyle. She had mistaken their sharp attention for anger. She guided her horse to join the others, her thoughts turning to another matter. “I’m not certain you should come,” she told Jake, meaning it. “You’re needed here.”

  His mouth quirked. “Well, ma’am, I’m not asking your permission.”

  Jess rolled her eyes. His amusement was beyond her. “Don’t you see that you could lose everything?”

  He sobered. “How can I lose everything if I still have you? I love you, Jess. Let’s go get your brother.”

  Taggart’s voice boomed out. “Which way do we point the beasts?”

  Jake met Jess’s frown with a calm smile. “To Chicago.”

  Reese spoke up. “Where are we gonna stay for the winter, boss?”

  “My pa’s farm is in Illinois. We’ll stay there.”

  Diaz drew her gaze. “Your brother waits, mariposa.”

  Exasperated from her own conflicting emotions, Jess put a fist on her hip and glared at him. “What does that word mean, anyway, Diaz?”

  Taking no offense at her tone, the Spaniard answered gently. “Mariposa, señorita, means ‘butterfly.’”

  Butterfly.

  Impatient for the adventure to begin, Taggart and Reese whipped their horses into a run, and Diaz took off behind them.

  Jake lifted his hat to his men, then set it back on his head.

  Side by side, Jake and Jess kicked their horses into a gallop, leaving the ranch in many capable hands. They headed east toward Chicago—and Ambrose.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The afternoon sun was at their backs when the prairie ended at the outskirts of Chicago. Jess sighed as she counted the days since she had stood in the front room of Hale Imports with Ambrose’s letter in her hand. Twenty-six days. Twenty-six days since her world had fallen out from under her. Ambrose was brought back, Red Deer taken.

/>   The journey over the Rockies and across the Plains had been longer and harder than she could have imagined, and yet she had seen some indescribably beautiful country. Like the Pony Express riders, they had switched mounts as often as possible. Nearly all the ranch owners in the western territories had honorably refused additional coin for taking perfectly good mounts in trade. It must be a cattlemen’s code, she mused, and Jake had been no different. From the first time that Jake pulled out a heavy pouch of coins, Jess had insisted she pay for their expenses. Jake hadn’t argued with her, but neither had he taken her money. Each time he returned to camp with supplies, she asked him to name an amount, but he waved her question away, telling her they’d figure it out some other time.

  Now Jess was speechless as she gazed at the crowds and the maze of mud-hole streets. As they neared Lake Michigan, entire city blocks of buildings, as well as individual businesses, stood high on thousands of scissors jacks five feet or more above the ground. Even on horseback, she could see straight under them. Stairs led up to the businesses overhead, and customers came and went as if all cities hovered in the air. Beyond, the land flowed virtually straight out to the lake, explaining the necessity of raising the low-lying city to a higher grade. Dozens of huge wagons rolled by, hauling ponderous loads of dirt that were undoubtedly destined to fill in space beneath one of the raised buildings. Above the steady rumble of city noise, a train whistle screeched. The air was ripe with the stench of raw fish. They dismounted in front of a hotel, the entrance of which was at the top of a stairway, above their heads.

  Though Jess wanted nothing more than to continue on to where Ambrose was being held, Jake checked her into a room, adhering to the plan they had devised. There, she made wise use of her time, bathing and then trying her hair this way and that until she was satisfied that she looked the part she would need to play. Jake returned with a blue and white striped taffeta day dress and all its accoutrements, which he had purchased for Jess, surprising her with his eye for fashion.