Brave the Wild Wind ww-1 Page 5

  Chase drew himself up. “What do you mean? Has she been taking that foul temper of hers out on you, too?”

  Billy looked away, embarrassed. “I only wish she would,” he said. “But the fact is, she ignores me. I’ll win her over, though,” he added confidently. “She only tries to act rough because she thinks she has to. I can understand that. After all, she’s only eighteen, and she has to boss men older than she is. A girl’s got to be tough to do that. A girl’s got to be tough just to be a girl, out here.”

  Chase sat back in bemusement. All that logic pouring out of a boy nine years old. He was amazed. Every bit of what Billy said made sense. It certainly explained the girl’s attitude. Chase was suddenly seeing Jessica Blair in a different light.

  Chase looked at Billy. “How about us going for that ride? As you pointed out, your sister has a ranch to run and is probably too busy to ride with you.”

  Jessie was worn out when she rode into the yard late that night. She might have stayed out on the range and gotten an early start the next morning. The roundup of the cattle that would be driven north to fulfill her contracts had started, and work would be long and hard over the next weeks. But Jessie’s curiosity had gotten the better of her, so she rode in, wanting to see if her mother’s friend had moved on.

  She knew the answer as soon as she led Blackstar into the stable, for there was that beautiful golden palomino bedded down next to Jeb’s old roan. Strangely, Jessie didn’t know what she really felt. But she was too tired to give it any thought just then.

  The prospect of removing Blackstar’s thirty-pound saddle in her exhausted state made Jessie’s movements slow. She lit a lamp and turned him into his stall, sorry Jeb had gone to bed.

  There was nothing for it but to get it done and turn in for the night. Though she was starving, she was too tired even to scrape up something to eat. She had left the men just as they were settling down to eat, so she could ride the three-hour journey back to the ranch.

  “Can you use some help?”

  Jessie started and looked over to see Chase Summers leaning against the railing of Blackstar’s stall. He was dressed in a blue cotton shirt tucked into black pants. His open shirt front revealed a dark mat of curls across his chest. Jessie was struck by his powerful attractiveness and felt a pang of regret that she could never like him.

  “I couldn’t sleep, and I happened to see the light go on,” he was saying in a friendly voice, “so I thought I’d come out to see who was still up.”

  Jessie made no comment, leery of this sudden overture. She wouldn’t forget what he’d tried to do to her. Why was he being so friendly after she’d socked him? She noted that there was no swelling around his nose, only a slight discoloration that was hardly noticeable. Disagreeably, she vowed to punch him harder next time.

  She turned away from him and began unbuckling the cinches, hoping he would go away if she continued to ignore him. But when she began to lift the saddle, he was there beside her. Taking hold, he easily tossed the saddle over the side railing. Jessie didn’t thank him for his help or even look at him as she went about giving Blackstar a brisk rubdown, then seeing to his food and water.

  When she had finished, she walked past Chase, still without a word, turned out the lamp, and headed for the house. He fell into step beside her.

  “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” Chase asked softly. When she didn’t reply, he sighed. “Look, Miss Blair, I realize you and I have gotten off to a bad start, but is there any reason to continue that way? I’d like to apologize if you’ll let me.”

  Jessie didn’t stop walking, but after a while she asked, “What exactly are you apologizing for?”

  “Well... everything.”

  “Are you really sorry, or did Rachel Ewing put you up to this?”

  Chase winced at the coldness in her voice when she said her mother’s name. Rachel hadn’t been exaggerating. The girl did hate her. He wanted to find out why, but right now wasn’t the time. He finally had her talking to him, and it was best to proceed cautiously.

  “I don’t apologize often, Miss Blair. If it weren’t my own idea, I wouldn’t be doing it, believe me.”

  “Then you’ll leave?”

  Chase stopped short, stunned. “Can’t you just accept my apology?”

  “Sure I can,” she said lightly as she continued walking. “But you haven’t answered my question.”

  Jessie didn’t wait for him to answer, either. As she reached the back door to the kitchen, she stepped inside. Rachel had left a lamp burning low, and Jessie turned it up.

  Chase followed her inside, finding her by the kitchen counter, her back to him, opening a can of beans. When she began to eat the beans cold, right out of the can, he grimaced.

  “We missed you at dinner,” he said as he closed the door behind him. “I believe there are some leftovers on the stove if you’re hungry.”

  She turned, her eyes flashing, and he realized he must have picked a sore subject. It was a sore subject in fact, for Jessie hadn’t sat down for one of Kate’s excellent hot meals since Rachel and Billy had come. It was a reminder that they had succeeded in pushing her out of her own house. Her own choice, but that didn’t change it any.

  “Then again, dinner wasn’t that good tonight,” Chase added quickly, an outright lie, but it seemed to mollify Jessie. She stopped glaring at him and continued to eat her cold beans.

  Jessie hadn’t planned to eat anything, hadn’t planned to let anything keep her from her bed. But for some reason she wasn’t quite so tired anymore.

  “You haven’t answered my question, Mr. Summers,” Jessie pointed out casually.

  “I don’t recall your being too willing to talk to me.” Chase grinned, trying to keep it light.

  Jessie frowned. “I answered the one question you had a right to ask. I told you why I lied to you. But my question does concern me, Mr. Summers. I would appreciate it if you would give me an answer.”

  “What was your question?” Chase hedged.

  Jessie slammed the can of beans down on the counter. “Are you deliberately trying to provoke me, Summers?”

  “Is everything so serious with you? Don’t you ever get any fun out of life?” When she started to walk away, Chase caught her arm, gently this time. “Will you just hold on a minute?”

  She didn’t look at him, but at his hand, and he released her. “Well?” she demanded.

  “I just don’t know how to answer you. I know you don’t want me here, but Rachel has asked for my help, and I can’t very well refuse her.”

  “Why not?” Jessie asked.

  He replied in a tight voice, “She’s got no one else to help her. You certainly aren’t cooperating.”

  “Was I supposed to?” Jessie snapped. “I didn’t ask her to come here!”

  “No, you didn’t. But your father did.”

  Her turquoise eyes were stormy, but she kept her voice low as she said, “You want to know why? I heard you and her talking about it that night, and I can give you a better reason than she did. He hated her so much that he wanted more revenge even after he was dead! He wanted her to see what he’d made of me. He wanted her to see this fine house and be sorry it’s not hers.”

  “But she’s rich, Jessie, or didn’t you know that?” Chase said quietly. “Why, her home in Chicago is four times the size of this house.”

  “But he didn’t know that. All he wanted was for us to be thrown together so the sparks would fly. He knew they would. He knew I hated her. He made sure I would.”

  “Why do you hate her so, Jessie?”

  “Damn you, Summers!” she hissed, her lips thinning. “Don’t start prying. And I didn’t give you leave to call me Jessie!”

  “All right, I’m sorry.”

  “And another thing,” she continued. “I also heard what she asked you to do when you were discussing me—which you had no business doing. The fact is, I am well aware of the kind of man Laton Bowdre is. I don’t just think he’ll try somethin
g crooked, I know he will. I’m already prepared for it. So you’ll only be wasting your time concerning yourself.” Then she added, just for meanness, “But you waste your time a lot, don’t you?”

  The gibe hit home. Chase’s eyes turned quite black. “I wonder why. Could it be because a certain girl we both know hasn’t grown up yet?”

  “You’re looking for another sock on the nose, mister!” Jessie retorted hotly.

  “Look,” he replied, “I’m only pointing out that spiteful lying and going off to sulk do not make a mature young woman.”

  “And a fool’s errand makes for a fool!”

  Having reached a stalemate, they just stood glaring at each other. Jessie told herself to walk away, but something compelled her to stay. Matching wits with him was stimulating, exciting. She wondered what he would do next.

  As usual, he surprised her. He admitted softly, “You are right, of course. I was off on a fool’s errand and was quite the fool for it.”

  “Well, you were wrong,” Jessie said. “I didn’t go off to sulk.”

  “Then why stay away a whole week?”

  “That’s how long it takes to get where I was going and back.”

  Chase sighed. “And where did you go?”

  Jessie frowned. “Why are you asking me? Jeb already told you where I went.”

  “No,” he said. “He fabricated some nonsense about Indians, but I know for a fact you’ve never been to the Wind River Reservation.”

  Jessie smiled. “That’s where you went?”

  “Of course,” he replied tersely. “But the question is, where were you?”

  Jessie shook her head. “You really should find out about a territory before you enter it, Mr. Summers. I take it you’ve never been this far north before, or you’d know that the tame Shoshone are not the only Indians we have in our area. There are the Cheyenne and the—”

  Chase interrupted. “I’ve been west of the Missouri long enough to know that the Cheyenne were defeated long ago, and what’s left of them are confined to a reservation about five hundred miles south of here.”

  Jessie’s hands went to her hips. “So you think you know everything, do you? Okay. Black Kettle’s Cheyenne, the ones you’re talking about, were confined to a reservation, yes. They had no choice after the cavalry attacked their peaceful village and massacred most of them. That Army butchery was what enraged the northern tribes and allied them more closely with the Sioux. They are not all confined, Mr. Summers. The Northern Cheyenne still roam the plains and protect what little land they have left.”

  “And you expect me to believe you went to visit them?” he asked, truly incredulous.

  “I don’t give two hoots what you believe,” she said levelly. Then she turned away and went to her room, leaving him standing there.

  Chase heard the door to her room close. He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. She wouldn’t be back to finish the argument. Argument? Hell, he had not meant to fight with her again. He had meant to be reasonable. Apologetic. Charming, even. He had sincerely wanted to end the animosity. Damn! What had gone wrong?

  Chapter 7

  JESSIE didn’t usually sleep late, but she woke to find her room quite bright. Several hours of the morning were gone. Why? Usually, if she wasn’t up by seven o’clock, Kate would come in to wake her. Maybe Kate had assumed she was up and gone.

  As Jessie dressed, she wondered what Kate thought about all the uproar in their lives. But then, Kate probably wouldn’t have told her even if she’d asked. For as long as Jessie could remember, the Indian woman had been there, like so much else on the ranch. But she had never gotten close to Kate. The older woman never encouraged overtures. Often, especially lately, she was downright sullen. Had Kate ever been her father’s mistress? Jessie knew she’d never learn the answer to that. She often felt sorry for Kate, wasting her life there, having no family. But any time she had ever asked Kate why she stayed, Kate had replied that Thomas needed her. And even after he died and Jessie offered to settle Kate anywhere she liked, Kate declined. There was nowhere she wanted to go. The ranch was all Kate had anymore.

  Jessie let it go then, grateful that the Indian woman was there to see to the house, for Jessie certainly didn’t have the time. And the house was kept immaculate, Jessie’s bed always made when she returned at the end of the day, her clothes washed and hung in her wardrobe, hot meals waiting.

  As soon as she was dressed, Jessie hurried to the stable, furious with herself for being late. She barely noticed Rachel’s voice coming from the porch, but stopped when she heard Chase Summers’s raised voice. For once, he was angry with someone other than Jessie.

  “Rachel, I wouldn’t marry that spoiled brat of yours if you paid me! Where in hell did you get such a fool idea?”

  Jessie froze.

  “From you,” Rachel replied calmly. “You said I ought to find her a husband if I wanted her off my hands.”

  “But I was angry, not serious. She’s just a child. She needs a father, not a husband.”

  “She had a father. A lot of good it did her,” Rachel retorted bitterly. “And you know perfectly well she’s old enough to marry.”

  “Age has nothing to do with it. She still acts like a kid. Forget it, Rachel. Find someone else to dump her on if you must, but I want nothing to do with that brat.”

  “Won’t you at least think about it?” Rachel’s voice turned soft and appealing. “You’ve been wandering for years, Chase. This is nice country to settle down in, and the ranch is established, a fine spread.”

  “With a debt,” he reminded her.

  “I would pay off the debt,” she said quickly. “She wouldn’t have to know!”

  “Would you listen to yourself, Rachel?” Chase snapped. “I hope you don’t make that offer to anyone else! Another man would jump at it, and you wouldn’t be doing the girl any favor. Now, I’m willing to help you, but not to the point of human sacrifice. And you’re not that cold-blooded, either, so just pretend you never had this idea.”

  “Then, for God’s sake, tell me what I’m supposed to do!” Rachel started crying. “I can’t take much more of this. I’m not used to such hostility, and from my own daughter—it’s unbearable! She doesn’t want me here. She walks away whenever I talk to her. She would be happier if I left, yet I can’t leave her here alone. I just can’t do that. She has to have someone to look out for her.”

  “Take it easy now, lady.” Chase began to comfort her. “Perhaps it’s time you considered paying someone to be her guardian so you don’t have to do it.”

  “But who could I trust with the responsibility? Who wouldn’t take advantage of her? ...” She brightened suddenly. “I could trust you, Chase. Would you—”

  “No, I wouldn’t! I couldn’t handle it, Rachel. For some reason I lose my temper every time I talk to that girl. I’d end up wringing her neck if she were left in my charge.”

  Jessie left then, horrified and humiliated beyond anything she had ever felt before. An agony of pain swelled in her chest, constricting her throat, pain of contempt and scorn, pain of utter rejection. It hurt, it hurt so bad she wanted to cry. But she wouldn’t cry because of them, she told herself. She wouldn’t.

  The tears were blinding as she reached the stable. She was about to collapse when a child’s voice said, “What’s wrong, Jessie?”

  She couldn’t bear for anyone to know, let alone Rachel’s son.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she snapped. “I just got some dust in my eyes.”

  “Can I help?”

  “No! I’m fine. The watering washed away the dust.”

  She walked past him to Blackstar’s stall, but Billy followed. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

  “Well I am, aren’t I?”

  He was not put off. “Are you going out on the range now?” he asked as she saddled Blackstar. When she didn’t answer, he persisted. “Can I go with you this time?”

  “No!”

  “But I won’t get in your way, Jessie,
I promise I won’t. Please?”

  The pleading eagerness in that voice broke through, somehow, and she relented.

  “All right.” Then she added sternly, so he wouldn’t think she was easily swayed, “But only this time. You can use that sorrel over there, if you know how to saddle him.”

  Billy let out a whoop of delight and ran to the horse. But the fact was, each time old Jeb had showed him how to saddle a horse so he could ride around the valley, Jeb had actually put the saddle on himself. Billy found himself stumped.

  He couldn’t even get the heavy saddle off the railing, let alone onto the horse’s back. The horse was higher than he was, and so was the railing.

  Jessie finished with Blackstar and led him over to where Billy was struggling, shaking her head in amusement. The saddle he was fighting with was an old forty-pounder. Yet there was no other saddle in sight. She had to admit, the kid had determination.

  She helped him tug the saddle down from the railing. “Now, together... one, two, three.” They swung the saddle up into place, and Jessie stepped back. “Can you manage now?”

  “Sure. And thanks.”

  Jessie waited impatiently as he tried to do the girth that was tucked under the saddle. His short arms couldn’t reach it. He finally went around the horse and carried the strap under him, then buckled it too loosely.

  “Honestly, can’t you do anything?” she said gruffly as she came forward again to help.

  Billy watched her stern expression as she finished the job. He grinned, happy. What she was doing spoke better than words.

  “You don’t really hate me, do you, Jessie?”

  She looked up, startled. Why was he able to see through her like that? “Of course I do.”

  But Billy persisted, still grinning. “I think you like me just a little.”