Where the Wind Blows (6 page)

The house was too quiet. Years of living on the trail taught Chase to trust his gut instincts, and the silence in the other room didn’t feel right.

Pulling back the blanket, he rose unsteadily and took his gun from the dresser drawer. He paused until the spinning in his head stopped and then checked the chambers. Empty. He took two bullets from the drawer and slipped them silently into his pistol.

Dressed in his long johns, he made his way to the door. He peered around the doorframe. A pot on the stove was bubbling. The fire in the hearth was burning. Everything seemed in order, but there was no sign of the others.

Continuing into the room, he spotted Jessie lying on Gabe’s bedroll, sleeping peacefully.

She lay on her side with her hands tucked under her cheek. She’d taken her hair out of the braid, and it twisted and flowed around her shoulders, more beautiful than any silken shawl.

He was spellbound. Never had he seen a creature more alluring, all loveliness and innocence rolled into one. Her lashes fluttered on her cheek as she dreamed, and when she sighed, her mouth formed into a pout. Chase had the sudden urge to gather her into his arms and never let her go.

The door’s opening startled him out of his daydream.

He quickly held a finger to his lips.

Gabe looked wide-eyed at him, then grinned mischievously. “You going to a parade?”

Chase gave him a look that said he wasn’t in the mood for teasing.

“You look kinda peaked, actually,” Gabe said, serious now. “You better get back to bed.”

Chase knew he must look a sight, dressed in long johns, his gun drawn, his head trussed up. “Don’t you be giving me orders just because you went and saved my life. You’re still wet behind the ears, and don’t you forget it.” He was feeling poorly again and didn’t need any bossing.

“Yes, sir.” Gabe chuckled softly as he went to the sink to wash.

Jessie slept through it all, not even stirring when Gabe snorted.

“I want Jessie to rest,” Chase said, again looking at her in wonder. “I’ll grab my clothes, and you get supper on the table. Sarah is about ready to wake up, and she’ll be howling to fill her belly. We’ll eat as quietly as possible.”

The three ate silently at the table while Jessie slept on by the fire. The only sound was the tinkling of the tin utensils and a slurp of coffee every now and then.

Every time Sarah started to make any noise, Chase would hold his finger to his lips, and Sarah would giggle as if they were playing a game. She’d then put her own finger to her lips and shake her head at Gabe.

After supper Chase summoned the strength to carry Jessie to her room. He removed her shoes and woolen stockings. He stopped at the dress. She’d probably be mad as a scalded cat to wake up and find herself in her shift. On the other hand, she needed her rest, and she’d no doubt sleep better and longer without the constricting dress she had on now.

Cursing under his breath, he fumbled with the tiny buttons that ran down the front of her bodice, feeling like the worst sort of Peeping Tom. Whoever had designed such a
fandangled piece of clothing should be tarred, feathered, and left for the coyotes.

Getting the yards of fabric over her head was no easy task. Jessie began to awaken.

“What is it?” she asked sleepily.

“I’m just tucking you in.” He held his breath to see if she’d make a fuss, then pulled the blanket up under her chin softly. “You’ve been tendin’ to me nonstop, and now you’re dog tired. Don’t make a scene, Jessie.”

Her sleepy gaze caught his, and he felt it clear to his boots. In the next moment her eyelids closed, and she snuggled into her pillow.

He couldn’t help but wonder at her threadbare petticoat. She must have had this same one since she was a young girl. Its edges were frayed, and it was much too small. Any lace it might have had was long since gone.

After seeing this raggedy one, wouldn’t a husband buy her a new one, for Pete’s sake? The sight of her long legs, combined with the exertion, had him more lightheaded than he’d already been. He needed to lay his aching head down soon, too. He covered her with the blanket and left her to sleep.

Gabe was finishing up the supper dishes when Chase entered the room. Sarah was fiddling with something by the fire and seemed content.

“Jessie still asleep?” Gabe asked, keeping his voice low.

“Yep, and I think she’ll sleep right through the night. She’s plumb wore out.”

“I left her some supper on the stove, in case she wakes up hungry.”

“That was thinking ahead.” Chase lowered himself into a chair and rested his head in his hands. It was throbbing again. He could hear the blood pulsing in his ears.

“You don’t look like you feel too good. If you want to turn
in early, I’ll watch Sarah and put her to bed in an hour or so when she gets sleepy.” Gabe dried his hands and sat down at the table.

“Think I will. But first I’m going to check on Cody and take a look around outside. Whoever shot me could still be hanging around.”

Chase struggled into his heavy coat, with Gabe’s help. He took his hat from the wall and put it on gingerly, feeling it squeeze his sore temple like a vise. Taking his rifle from the corner, he checked its chambers. “After I leave, drop the bar on the door and keep your Colt within easy reach. I’ll give a birdcall when I’m on my way back. Don’t open the door for anything else, understand?”

“Yes.”

Chase turned and gave the cabin one more look. “And don’t shoot me either, boy. I won’t be gone long.”

It took longer for Chase to check the area than he expected. He had to stop several times and rest, closing his eyes to ease the pounding in his head. Lady Luck had been with him. Another quarter inch and he would’ve been dead, without a doubt.

He was no stranger to close calls. Four times he’d taken a bullet. Been stabbed twice. And once accused of stealing a horse. He would have hanged for that, if Molly hadn’t spoken up. She gave him a truthful alibi, unmindful of what it did to her own reputation.

The memory burned. They’d been so young. So alone. He’d learned many things from Molly. What it felt like to belong somewhere, to someone. How it felt to build dreams. He’d learned the joy of loving a woman with Molly, too.

He’d gladly give his own life to bring hers back. “That was a lifetime ago,” he muttered. “But it’s something worth re-
membering when I get to thinking I could ever settle in somewhere. Build a life with someone new.” Jessie’s blue eyes shone vividly in his mind.

Upon his return, Chase found Sarah asleep and Gabe cleaning Jessie’s shotgun. The firearm was apart on the table, and Gabe was oiling each part meticulously.

“Find anything?”

“Nada. But that’s not to say someone’s not watching us from up the ridge. I’ll do a thorough search tomorrow.” Chase stripped off his coat, hanging it with his hat on a peg. “Did Jessie wake up?”

“Nope. It’s been quieter’n a mouse in a cotton patch. Sarah got sleepy and fell asleep early herself.” Gabe snapped the shotgun back together and ran a soft cotton cloth over the barrel. The metal glistened in the lamplight, and Chase could remember the thrill of cleaning his very own gun for the first time when he was twelve years old.

“Made some coffee.” Gabe rose and walked to the stove, refilling his cup. “Like some?”

“Sure. Anything to thaw out my insides.”

Gabe placed both cups on the table and sat.

Chase looked toward Jessie’s bedroom door. He was feeling particularly edgy tonight. He sipped his coffee slowly, watching Gabe taking his pistol apart for cleaning. A half hour passed in silence.

“I’m turning in. Leave this lamp on the table burning low tonight. If there’s trouble, I don’t want to be fumbling around in the dark. Wake me if you hear anything unusual.”

“Yes, sir.”

At the hearth, Chase gazed at Sarah, asleep in her bed. An overwhelming urge to bend down and reciprocate the kiss she’d given him earlier caught him off guard. She certainly
was a little magnet, but he knew better than to let himself be pulled in. Instead, he leaned over and blew out the lamp flickering dimly on the mantel.

“Good night…honey,” he whispered, remembering tenderly again the kiss she’d placed on his beat-up ole head. She’d wanted to make him feel better, and all he did now was feel worse.

Unexpectedly, her eyes opened. Shyly raising her arms to him, she waited. Emotions warred within Chase. He wanted to hold her. But it would only make it harder when he left. Wasn’t it better to confuse her now than to break her heart later?

Grimly, he nodded to her as if she were just an acquaintance on the street.

Sarah studied him for a moment. Then without a trace of emotion, she snuggled back into her blanket.

“Good night, Gabe.”

“Good night.”

He was stalling. Lying down next to Jessie was now seriously problematic. He desired her. He wouldn’t be a man if he’d felt otherwise. But, on the other hand, he wasn’t an animal, either. He recognized goodness in this young woman. He’d never do anything to hurt her.

As he stripped off his shirt and tossed it into the chair, Chase remembered a bit of wisdom he’d heard from a man he’d once ridden with. Mack, older and trailwise, had taught him what it took to stay alive on a cattle drive. “Remember, son,” Mack had said, “if you ain’t got a choice, be brave. Many a man has come through the worst of situations on heart alone.”

Quietly, Chase sat in Jessie’s rocker and removed his boots. Easing down on the tiny bed, he grimaced as it creaked under his weight. He hesitated, watching to see if the movement would wake her.

Being gentle, he pushed her arm over to her body and tucked the blanket like a cocoon around her. She still didn’t stir, so he lay back on top of the cover, stretching his legs out the best he could. With his fingers locked behind his head, he listened to the noises of the night.

The hoot of an owl somewhere far off.

The ticking of the clock over the fireplace mantel.

The breathing of Nathan’s widow lying inches away…

Nathan! Chase almost sat up when he remembered Nathan’s bankroll. That’s what had been dogging his thoughts. He needed to give it to Jessie tomorrow, first thing. If she thought him a hound, so be it.

As the hour grew late, the temperature in the cabin
dropped. Jessie’s scent, soft and feminine, kept Chase in a constant state of awareness. Taking a deep breath, he released it slowly, trying to concentrate on anything but what was keeping him awake.

He thought of his past and some of the mistakes he’d made along the way. “Killing don’t make a soft pillow at night,” he whispered in the darkness. “Regardless of who draws first.”

That was a mistake. Jessie mumbled something and snuggled in close to Chase’s side. He rolled over to avoid her, but her arm slid up over his side.

She’s testing my willpower and doesn’t even know it.

He was leaving, his good sense reminded him. This was Nathan’s widow. Even though she’d granted him some husbandly rights, physical closeness certainly wasn’t one of them. Against his good sense, he rolled back. Jessie’s face, close to his, was intoxicating.

“Jessie. Wake up,” he breathed.

Jessie made a little sound.

That was enough invitation for Chase. Leaning forward, he brushed her lips lightly with his. “You taste as sweet as a sugarplum pie.”

Jessie’s eyes flew open. As comprehension dawned, she gasped, her hand covering her mouth.

Chase reached out to quiet her, to tell her nothing had happened, but she struggled against his embrace and pushed against the restraining blanket. Chase drew back.

“It’s all right, Jess. I’m sorry. It was all my doing. Please don’t cry.”

And he
was
sorry. She was the new widow of a trusting friend. He felt wretched.

At that moment, Sarah cried out from the other room.

Jessie and Chase both hurried out to Sarah. Gathering the child up, Jessie rocked her in her arms. Gabe, waking from
the commotion, looked as if he was having a hard time coming out of his sleep.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, pushing his hair from his eyes.

“Sarah’s having a nightmare,” Jessie said. “You can go back to sleep. I’ll take care of her.”

Clasping Sarah to her breast, she felt the wild beat of the girl’s heart against her own. She soothed the brown curls out of her face and stroked them down her back.

Chase was watching her. He looked unsure. The next time Jessie looked up he was gone, back into her room.

“Shhh…Please don’t cry,” she crooned, echoing the words Chase had whispered to her just moments ago. “It’s all right, sweetheart. It was just a bad dream.”

“Dark, dark root,” Sarah cried.

“No, no, there’s no root cellar here, honey. You don’t have to think about that anymore, ever again.”

From out of the past, a montage of nightmares descended. Jessie remembered vividly her last day at the orphanage.

“What have we here? One shoe?” Mrs. Hobbs’s voice fairly crackled as she advanced on Sarah, only two years old. “Jessie, take her and put her in the root cellar until after breakfast. Children must learn responsibility.”

Jessie had to control her rage. If she spoke out in Sarah’s defense, it would only make things worse for Sarah.

As she hugged Sarah close, the other children regarded her with sympathy. None of them liked to be left in the root cellar. But Sarah, who was so afraid of the dark, was especially fearful.

“It’ll be all right, sweetheart,” whispered Jessie. “I’ll stay with you. Mrs. Hobbs—that old meany—will never know.”

Sarah, who’d buried her head against Jessie’s throat, nodded slightly.

“That’s my girl.” Jessie knew from her own experiences what it meant to “go to the cellar.” It was dark and cold there, and full
of scary sounds. Whenever Mr. Hobbs was gone, his wife looked for opportunities to put children there. Jessie would take the switch gladly, before leaving Sarah alone.

As Jessie rocked Sarah, the memory was as vivid as if the incident had occurred yesterday. If it felt that real—that raw—to her, how much more had Sarah suffered being so young? She shuddered at the thought.

“Shh…baby, it’s all over now. I’m here, and I’ll never let anyone scare you ever again.”

“Mama, mama,” Sarah sobbed, holding tight to Jessie’s neck.

Jessie passed the night with Sarah in her arms. She laid a blanket out beside Gabe and stayed there.

Near dawn, Jessie placed Sarah back in her bed, then stretched out her cramped, cold legs and arms. She quailed at the thought of seeing Chase this morning. He could be waking up any minute, and the thought sent her into a panic. She needed some time to herself to sort out her feelings, but in this little cabin, privacy was impossible.

Then an idea occurred to her. She would go into town! She needed supplies, and the weather seemed mild enough, with barely a hint of frost on the air. If she left now, she could get everything she needed and be back in time to put on supper.

She quickly wrote a note explaining where she was and asked Gabe to take care of Sarah and Chase. The sun was just peeking over the mountain as she closed the door. A breeze played about her ankles, making the rain-soaked leaves dance and sway in her path.

How good it felt to be out of the cabin. With her head up and her shoulders back, she could feel her cares and worries falling away. The morning air was invigorating.
Just one day at a time, she thought. That’s how I’ll make it through.

Inevitably, her thoughts drifted back to…Chase. No, she scolded herself, she wouldn’t think of him this morning! She refused. Tingles, like a bellyful of bees, skittered around inside her.

Stop it! What about Nathan and all he had done to help her? Shouldn’t she be thinking of him, now gone to his grave? Shouldn’t she be overcome with grief?

He was my lawfully wedded husband. What is wrong with me? I’m horrible!

Rounding the bend, Jessie got her first good look at Valley Springs in two long months. It wasn’t much of a town, with its two streets and handful of houses. But it did have a drygoods store, a blacksmith’s shop, and one restaurant, as well as a small building that served as a school, and as a church on Sunday. Of course there was a saloon.

Jessie hurried, wanting to see Mrs. Hollyhock. It had been two months, and she worried about her friend. Since it was early, the town was quiet, but the ring of metal striking metal told her Mr. Shepard, the blacksmith, was at work in his shop.

Garth Shepard had been the first person she’d met when Nathan brought her home to Valley Springs. Garth was a tall, strapping young man with arms the size of tree stumps. Fair-haired and brawny, he had sun-browned skin that never lacked the sheen that comes from working in the heat. Mr. Shepard was always locking his sights on her, no matter that she was a married woman.

Maybe, if she was careful, she could creep past his smithy without being noticed. His smile, disarmingly charming, melted even the coolest female heart, or so it seemed. Young girls—and all too many of the married ladies, too—were
constantly batting their lashes at him in hopes of drawing his attention.

Jessie released a sigh of relief. A few more steps, and she’d be past his shop. But at the moment of that happy thought, a large form stepped onto the wooden boardwalk in the direct line of her path.