Brave the Wild Wind Page 6

  “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.”

  “Well, that just goes to show how much you know,” she said lightly. She’d meant only to tease, but when she looked at him, there were tears glistening in his eyes. “Oh, Billy, I was only teasing. Honestly. Of course I like you.” He looked relieved, and she added, “But don’t you dare tell your mother I said so, you hear?”

  Chapter 8

  OLD Jeb was in his glory when he was storytelling, and he had a rapt audience in Billy Ewing. Jessie was amused, leaning back against a railing and watching the expressions on her half brother’s face as he listened to Jeb recount the time he’d come that close to being hanged.

  Back at the end of ’63, the Vigilantes of Montana had nearly sent Jeb to Boot Hill. The Vigilantes were formed in Virginia City, a town known to its shame to have been the scene of two hundred murders in only six months. Jeb had simply been mistaken for a member of a large gang. He was tried and sentenced to hang. The only reason he was spared was that the gang member he was mistaken for happened to wander into the crowd, to watch the hanging. As he approached the crowd, he was recognized. It was an experience Jeb loved to talk about.

  Jessie had heard it so often, though. She left the stable without even being noticed, so engrossed were the young man and the old one.

  She moved on slowly toward the house, stopping at the porch and stretching out on one of the leather settees. The air was still and not too cold. Jessie didn’t want to go in just yet. It was late, but not too late.

  Jessie closed her eyes against her thoughts, hoping the clear air would clear her mind so she could sleep. Just as she was beginning to feel peaceful, she heard, “Where’s the boy?”

  Jessie opened her eyes slowly. She didn’t see Chase at first, and had to look around to find him sitting on the steps, leaning back against a post so he could face her.

  “You’ll find Billy in the stable with Jeb.”

  “I wasn’t looking for him, just wondering where he was. I thought he might have turned in early, as much riding as he did today.”

  Jessie grinned to herself, remembering how hard Billy had tried to keep up with her. “He’ll probably be sore in the morning, but I think he enjoyed himself.”

  “I’ve no doubt of that. He’s wanted to go with you for a long time.”

  Jessie sat straight up and looked at him. “How would you know?”

  “He tells me things,” Chase replied a little proudly. “Will you be taking him out again?”

  “I haven’t thought about that.” Jessie shrugged. “Not tomorrow, anyway. I won’t be here tomorrow.”

  “Oh?”

  Jessie felt her anger rising, and underneath that, she felt some of the pain Chase had caused her that morning.

  “Yes, ‘Oh,’ and it’s none of your business why, mister.”

  “I wish you’d consider calling me Chase,” he said nicely.

  “I don’t know you well enough.”

  He grinned. “That can be easily rectified. What would you like to know about me?”

  “Nothing,” she said stubbornly, closing her eyes again.

  “That’s too bad, because I find myself infinitely curious about you.”

  She looked at him sharply. Was he teasing her?

  “Why?” she demanded.

  “You’re so different from most girls. I find it fascinating, the way you’ve been raised. Tell me something. Is it what you wanted, this kind of life?”

  “What difference does it make?” she said. “It’s done. I am the way I am.” She tried hard to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She would never admit to this man or to Rachel how much she hated her life. She wanted more than anything else to look and act like other girls. She’d had a chance to change herself when her father died, a chance to be normal at long last. She would have her chance again when the two interlopers were gone.

  “Yes,” Chase was saying pleasantly. “You are certainly unique. You can’t blame a man for being curious, now, can you?”

  He had such an engaging smile. His teeth were so white and even, his lips generous, yet not too full. And his dark hair waved across his forehead like…

  Jessie shook herself. What was the matter with her, staring at him like that?

  “Men out here, whether they’re curious or not, don’t ask so many questions,” she said to him. “But I forget, you’re not from out here. I’ll be going to Cheyenne tomorrow, since you’re interested. I have to hire a few more men for the roundup.”

  “Mind if I ride along?”

  “Why? So you can do Rachel’s bidding? I told you you’d only be wasting your time.”

  “Well, why don’t you let me be the judge of that? I won’t be moving along until I’ve done what your mother asked of me, you know.” He tried to say it as gently as possible.

  “Then by all means, you can come along with me tomorrow,” Jessie said quickly.

  Chase laughed heartily. “How eager you are to be rid of me. You wound me terribly, Jessica. Most women find me charming and witty. Women usually like having me around, believe it or not.”

  “But, then, I’m not a woman, am I?” Jessie said in a perfectly calm voice, her expression unchanging. “I’m just a spoiled brat. So what I think of you can’t make any difference one way or another, now, can it?”

  Chase frowned. That echoed too closely what he’d said to Rachel that morning. She couldn’t possibly have overheard, could she? No. She wouldn’t be speaking to him at all if she had.

  “Where’s Rachel?” Jessie broke into his thoughts.

  “She’s gone to bed,” he answered, giving her a measuring look. “And don’t you think it would be more appropriate if you called her Mother?”

  “No, I don’t,” she replied simply. “And I think I’ll be turning in myself now.”

  Jessie sat up and stretched her arms outward and back, emphasizing that she was worn out, not just eager to end their conversation. His eyes went to her body, particularly to the area where her breasts pressed against her shirt front.

  So that was all it took to get him to notice her as a woman! Jessie stretched a little harder before she stood up. She delighted in his expression. He seemed unaware that he was staring rudely.

  “I’ll be leaving before dawn, if you’re set on riding with me,” Jessie volunteered.

  “Yes, well—”

  “Good night, Mr. Summers.”

  Chase watched her walk into the house. In the privacy of her room she would be removing her clothes, those male clothes that didn’t really hide her femininity at all. What would she be putting on to wear to bed? A nightshirt? Nothing at all? He found he could easily picture her completely nude.

  He began to wonder if his image of her would match the reality. Were her breasts really so full and rounded as they seemed, her waist so tiny? Her face and hands were sun-kissed, but he imagined the rest of her as delicate as a white rose. Her legs would be her worst feature. They were beautifully long in proportion to her body, but she spent long hours riding astride every day, and that had to make for hard, bulging muscles. Yet those legs would be powerful, with the strength to trap a man between them and keep him there until she was through with him. Yes, she would be aggressive in making love.

  Good Lord, what the hell was he doing, sitting here thinking those thoughts? Regardless
of her shapely body, she was just a kid. He had no business stripping her clothes off, even in his mind. She was pretty enough—beautiful, really, if he cared to be honest. Downright stunning when she smiled.

  But he didn’t even like her. No, he didn’t even like her.

  Chapter 9

  JESSIE had no trouble waking up early. It was still dark, and she lit her lamp to get ready. She dressed with care, choosing her softest buckskin pants, a light cream color, and a matching vest set with silver conchas down each side. Silver chains held the vest together. A black silk shirt completed the outfit. Before she left her room, she did something she’d almost never done before. She opened the chest under her bed and took out a bottle of jasmine perfume, and applied just a touch behind each ear. Now, what will he think of that? She smiled to herself.

  Kate was in the kitchen, and she served Jessie steak and eggs as soon as she sat down at the table. Kate sniffed at the flowery scent coming from Jessie and raised a brow, but made no comment. Jessie stared after her, grinning. Of course Kate wouldn’t say anything, she never did.

  Then Jessie frowned, looking at Kate’s slumped shoulders. “Why don’t you go back to bed after you serve Mr. Summers his breakfast, Kate? You’re looking tired,” Jessie said. “Rachel can see to herself.”

  “I do not mind.” Kate spoke softly. “And Mr. Summers has already eaten.”

  That surprised Jessie. She wouldn’t have expected him to be up so early. She finished eating quickly and hurried to the stable with the cold lunch Kate had prepared. Chase was talking to Jeb, his horse ready to go. She greeted him with a smile, determined to start the day out right, and he returned it more than generously.

  She was pleased by the admiring way Chase looked her over, watching closely as she saddled and mounted. She had never been so conscious of her own movements as she was just then. It was exciting, this game. Could she hold his interest long enough to make him admit she wasn’t a child, a brat?

  The sky was growing pink as they rode out, Jessie leading the way out of the valley. The trail was still in shadow. As soon as the sun was up, they rode side by side, but they didn’t talk. It was not a leisurely ride. Jessie needed to reach town by early afternoon, and she kept them at a steady pace, even breaking into a gallop on the plains.

  Five hours later, they stopped at the little creek she always rested by when she went to Cheyenne. It was a nice spot, tree-shaded, level all the way to the water, beautiful with red and gold autumn leaves. It was safe, too, because the land all around them was flat. A stranger’s approach could be seen right away.

  They saw to their horses first, then sat down under the trees to share a loaf of bread, sliced beef, and cheese. Jessie washed up when she’d finished eating and leaned back against her saddle to rest for a while. Chase, still eating, sat near her.

  Jessie put her arms behind her head, forcing the brim of her black felt hat over her eyes. She raised one knee and lazily moved it from side to side so he’d know she wasn’t sleeping. The position thrust her breasts forward and drew attention to the flatness of her belly, as she’d intended. His eyes were on her, and she kept the hat over her face, allowing him full freedom to look.

  Jessie’s voice was startlingly loud when she asked, “How long have you known Rachel, Mr. Summers?”

  He sighed. “If you’re going to start to get to know me, don’t you think it’s time you called me Chase?”

  “I suppose so.”

  She didn’t see him grin. “I’ve known your mother for about ten years.”

  Jessie stiffened. Ten years ago Rachel had left Thomas Blair. Jessie had been eight. She didn’t realize that Chase could only have been about fifteen or sixteen ten years ago. So she immediately assumed that Chase had been Rachel’s lover just after Rachel left Thomas.

  “And do you still love her?” Jessie asked tightly.

  There was a pause.

  “What exactly do you mean by that?”

  Jessie changed her tone, trying to make light of it, as if she didn’t care one way or another. “You’re one of her men, aren’t you?”

  Chase took a deep breath. “Hold on, kid. Is that what you’ve been thinking?”

  Jessie sat up then and faced him squarely. “You came running when she called, didn’t you?”

  He laughed at her hard, accusing look. “You’ve got a dirty mind, Jessie. Or is it that you just think the worst of your mother all the time?”

  “You haven’t answered my question,” she said stubbornly.

  He shrugged. “I suppose I do love her, as much as I can love any woman.”

  That stopped Jessie. It took her a while to decide what she ought to say next. “Sounds like you don’t like women very much.”

  “Now you’ve got me all wrong. I like all women. It’s just that settling for one in particular isn’t necessary.”

  “You like to spread yourself around?” she said nastily.

  “You could say that.” He grinned. “But only because I’ve never found a woman I could bear staying around for any length of time. Once they think they have you hooked, the romance is over and the pettiness begins, the nagging, the jealousy. That’s the time to move on.”

  “Are you trying to tell me all women are like that?” Jessie asked quietly.

  “Of course not. There are all kinds back East, but you have to understand that certain, well, types come west: those already married, their daughters looking to get married, and women who pretend they’re not interested until they’re asked.”

  “This latter group of women includes saloon and dancehall girls, I take it?”

  “They are the most fun,” he said, knowing he was in dangerous territory.

  “Whores, in other words?”

  “Now I wouldn’t call them that,” he said indignantly.

  “Is that how you met Rachel?” she sneered.

  He frowned, annoyed. “Obviously no one’s told you, so I might as well. Rachel was alone, starving, and obviously pregnant when my stepfather Jonathan Ewing brought her home.”

  “Your stepfather?”

  “That surprises you?”

  Jessie was a good deal more than surprised. She had thought Ewing was Billy’s father, but obviously Will Phengle was. Did Billy know that? And then it came to her that Rachel was thirty-four now. Ten years ago, at twenty-four, she would have been a lot older than Chase. So they probably hadn’t had an affair.

  “Where was your mother?” Jessie asked.

  “She had died not long before.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he said flatly.

  There was obviously bitterness there, but Jessie didn’t want to know about it. She had enough bitterness of her own.

  “So your stepfather married Rachel, even with her carrying another man’s child?”

  “Because of that child,” Chase replied curtly. Good heavens, Jessie thought, what was going on? “The bastard waited to marry her till after she’d given birth to a son. I’ve no doubt he would have kicked her out if the baby had been a girl.”

  Jessie gasped. “Another man just like Thomas Blair! And I thought he was one of a kind.”

  “Well, there was a reason. Your father could have children. Jonathan Ewing couldn’t. He was a rich man and wanted a son to take over his small empire. It was the only reason he married my mother. He didn’t love her, he just wanted me. And she didn’t care about anything except his wealth. Well, I cared all right. I hated his guts.” He was silent, then went ahead.

  “I was old enough to understand his motives, old enough to resent his high-handedness. He thought wealth could buy him anything. I wasn’t willing to accept him, because I already had a father somewhere. So Ewing and I had a long, drawn-out battle. It never ended. Rachel made it easier, though, in the last year I was there. She was kind. She cared about me, and she was a good buffer between us. She helped me then. Do you see now why I want to return the favor?”

  Jessie was silent. His childhood had been awful, f
ighting a father, losing a mother. But his earlier confession showed him to be a philandering bastard nonetheless.

  “You don’t really know Rachel,” Jessie said.

  “I think I know her better—” He stopped, staring into the distance behind her. “Someone seems awfully curious about us.”

  “What?”

  “One of your friendly Indians, no doubt.”

  Jessie swung around quickly and followed his gaze. An Indian sat on a spotted pony a good distance away. He just sat there, staring toward them. Was it White Thunder? No, he would have come forward to greet her. Jessie got up and rummaged through her saddlebags, got her field glasses, and turned them on the Indian.

  She lowered her glasses after a moment and said, “Now why would he be here, do you suppose?”

  “A reservation Indian?” Chase asked.

  She glanced at him and shook her head. “All Indians are reservation Indians to you, aren’t they? God, but you’re a hardhead. I tried to explain to you…Oh, what’s the difference!”

  Chase’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying we’re in danger?”

  “I’m in no danger, but I don’t know about you,” she replied cruelly.

  “Look,” he said impatiently, “will you explain?”

  “That’s a Sioux warrior out there. They don’t leave their territory unless it’s for a good reason, and they don’t sit and watch you without a reason, either.”

  “You think there might be more of them?”

  Jessie shook her head. “I don’t think so. When I met Little Hawk last week, he was alone.”

  “You met him last week?” Chase echoed.

  She turned away to put her field glasses back, delighted by the confusion she was causing him. “He shared my food and camp one night. He wasn’t very friendly about it. He was quite arrogant, in fact. But that’s often their way.” And then she grinned at Chase. “Actually, he did want to be friendly with me in one sense, but I said no.”

  Chase managed to conceal his disbelief. “So he wanted you? I suppose that’s why he’s here now.”