Bittner, Rosanne (17 page)

John
felt he'd been jolted out of some kind of spell. He glanced at Jenny, realizing
he'd allowed his feelings to be seen in his eyes, and he was glad Tess herself
had not been looking. "Sure," he answered, walking off after Ken.

Jenny
picked up the carpetbag she'd brought along and put an arm around Tess, leading
her over to the small carriage she'd driven out herself. "Both those men
can be meaner than skunks, but they won't look while you dress," she said,
rummaging through the carpetbag while Tess leaned on the carriage to keep the
weight off her sore ankle. "Still, you might feel better at least keeping
the carriage between you and them. I'll help support you while you put on some
drawers and the corset I brought along. I hope I chose well, Mrs. Carey. Ken
said you were small, but you're even smaller than I pictured. I brought three
different dresses. They're in the carriage there. I made sure to bring
something real proper, not something
I'd
wear." She laughed
lightly, handing out a pair of white, ruffled drawers.

"You're
being very kind," Tess told her. She wrapped the towel around her hair and
managed to pull on the drawers, embarrassed that Jenny, too, had seen her
naked. It was probably nothing to a woman like her, but Tess felt she'd lost
all her dignity the last few days, wondered how she would ever get it back.

"You've
been through hell, Mrs. Carey, and you've lost a husband and a father. You need
help. Besides that, John asked me to do this. I figure if he thinks it's
important, I'll do it." She handed out the corset. "I'll put this
around you and lace it up while you hold on to the carriage. And don't be embarrassed.
I've seen everything there is to see in this life, and I
am
a
woman,
you know. I know what you've been through, honey, so if you need to talk about
it, I'm here."

"No,
I... I don't want to talk about it. I'll be just fine."

Jenny
began yanking at the corset strings to tighten the undergarment. "No you
won't. Not that easy. You can be proud and stubborn about it if you want, but
the hurt is down there somewhere. I'll help make it a little better." She
stopped lacing for a moment and met Tess's eyes. "Maybe it will help to
tell you that what happened to you is at least better than being raped at
twelve years old by your own uncle, who then steals you away and begins selling
you to men and then abandons you out in the middle of nowhere at sixteen."

Tess's
eyes widened at the shocking story. Jenny began lacing the corset again.
"At least you've had a good life," she continued, "a normal
life, a family, a father, and a husband. The man who raped you is dead, and
rightly so, but you still have your dignity and honor. By the time I was
sixteen, I had neither one. I was a well-used woman, so I just kept on doing
the only thing I knew how to do to survive. My saloon is the first respectable
business I've ever had, and I'm proud of it." She tied the string. "There.
You're a very beautiful woman, Mrs. Carey. We'll fix you up so pretty, folks
won't ever believe any of those bastards touched you. Those that do and treat
you bad for it can go to hell, right?"

Tess
blinked back tears. She'd been so wrong about this woman. "I'm
sorry," she said, "for what happened to you."

Jenny
shrugged. "You learn to just keep going. Don't feel sorry for me. You just
concentrate on yourself. Let's try on a couple of dresses." She pulled out
two slips and helped Tess put them on, then took a dress from the carriage. It
was a plain, short-sleeved blue calico that buttoned up the front clear to the
neck. "This should do. It matches your eyes."

Tess
let the woman slip the dress over her head, and Jenny buttoned it for her.
"A little big, but it looks just fine. Now let's hope the shoes fit. Sit
down on the running board there, and I'll put a pair on. I brought a couple
different sizes."

Tess
obeyed, and the woman slipped a pair of stockings over her feet, being careful
of her swollen ankle. "I don't know how to thank you, Jenny."

"You
don't need to. And if you don't want to be seen talking to me in town, that's
okay. I'll know how you really feel." She carefully slipped on a
high-button shoe. "I'll lace this one real lightly."

Jenny
finished with the shoes, and Tess realized her ankle actually felt better with
the shoe on because of the support it gave her. Jenny brushed her tangled hair
as best she could, then twisted it into a bun at the nape of her neck and
pinned it.

"There.
You look like a perfect lady, which, of course, you are. Anyone who tries to
say different ought to get knocked up the side of the head." She stood
back and looked Tess over. "Where will you go once John takes you into
town and reports in?"

Tess
sighed in weary confusion. "I don't know. I have a little money in the
bank. I'll get a room and find some kind of work, I guess."

Jenny
nodded. "You'll do fine. You're a strong, stubborn woman. I can see that.
And I also know it from the simple fact that I could see how much John Hawkins
respects you. His respect doesn't come easy. Sending for me to bring you some
decent clothes and let you clean up and all tells me what he thinks of you. You
let him do the talking when he reports in. He'll cover for you as best he can,
honey. You just keep holding your head proud, and folks will think nothing
about it after a while. Before long some nice man will come along and will see
what a good wife you'd make, and you'll have a new home."

Tess
pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "The last thing I care about
right now is finding another man. I can get by just fine on my own."

"Sure
you can." Jenny leaned closer. "You just remember you can come talk
to me anytime. Talking about things sometimes helps make it all better."
She looked up at a sun that was beginning to lower in the western horizon.
"We'd better get moving. We have three or four hours of daylight left. We
can probably make town by then. You don't want to be spending another night
sleeping on the ground, and you sure don't want to spend it here where it hurts
to look at what's left," She yelled for John to come over. "I'll take
her in the carriage till we get closer to town," she said when he rode up
to her. "You take her in from there and I'll go around and come in from
another direction. Nobody really cares where I've been so they won't ask."

Tess
looked up at John Hawkins, realizing this was the most normal she had looked
since he had first come for her. Their eyes held in an unspoken understanding.
If only he hadn't held her the way he had for that one brief moment, she would
not be so confused. "Thank you, Mr. Hawkins, for everything."

John
nodded, thinking she was as pretty as a bluebird, and so hurt and lonely. He
wanted to hold her again, but once he got her to town, that would be the end of
it— and that was the way it should be. She had already gone back to calling him
Mr. Hawkins, so formal and proper. "You're welcome, Mrs. Carey." He
looked at Jenny, who was smiling. The damn woman knew he was having feelings
for Tess Carey. "Let's get going." The sooner I get Tess Carey back,
the sooner I can get the hell out of her life, he thought

"Sí,
es Señora Carey."

Tess
heard one Mexican woman say the words to another who stood nearby, both women
nodding to her as she rode by on John Hawkins's horse. A few others were
gathering, staring, whispering, white and Mexican alike, certainly all
wondering what had happened to the poor captive woman. She knew what they were
thinking. She would probably never convince all of them she was untouched, but
she would damn well try.

It
just seemed so important. She'd been robbed of everything else. She couldn't
bear to also lose her dignity.

"Someone
should go and tell the priest," she heard from nearby. "Perhaps she
will need to talk to him."

She
needed no priest! Her father had been a Catholic, but not a practicing one,
mostly because of her mother, who was a Protestant. The woman had taken her to
the local Methodist church when she was young, but that church had been burned
in the war, and ever since those war years Tess had attended no church at all.
She believed in God, though, had no doubt He was out there... somewhere.

They
rode up to a little building with a sign that read Sheriff across the front. A
man with a badge sat on a chair out front, his feet up on a hitching post. El
Paso was still a rather quiet little Spanish town, most trouble taking place in
the outer wild country; but apparently they had decided a sheriff was
necessary. This was the first time Tess had been to town in several weeks. The
sheriff was Sam Higgins, who formerly drove freight wagons into Mexico for Jim
Caldwell, the rancher who also owned a supply store in town. She wondered if
Caldwell had rigged the election. He'd backed Higgins all the way, and since
the man was elected, Caldwell seemed to have a lot of say in whatever went on
in El Paso. She had never liked Jim Caldwell, whose sprawling ranch nearly
surrounded her farm. Now she would have to contend with the man. She would have
to find a way to hang on to her father's land.

Higgins
rose and nodded to John, and Tess could immediately see the two men disliked
each other.

"Hawkins!"
The shout came from their right as John dismounted and helped Tess down.
"You murdering bastard! What the hell gives you the right to blow cattle
thieves to smithereens! You're supposed to bring men back to be judged and
hanged, not execute them for your own enjoyment! And where are the men who
abducted this poor woman here? All dead, I suppose!"

The
words came from Jim Caldwell, who had apparently spotted them and come running
over from his store.

John
took Tess's arm and led her up the steps. He faced Caldwell squarely, calmly
folding his arms with a note of authority. "All dead," he answered.
"It was them or Mrs. Carey here. Would you rather I took a couple of them
alive and let them slit this woman's throat?"

Tess
suspected Caldwell probably would not have minded. That would have left him
free to take over her land.

"Of
course not!" the man answered, reddening a little. "But what is your
excuse for blowing up the cabin where you found cattle thieves a while back?
The Army discovered the truth a few days ago. It's all over town!"

This
was the first time Tess had heard the story, although she remembered Ken had
mentioned something about dynamite in one of their conversations.

"Them
men got what they deserved," Ken spoke up, walking up beside John.
"They was holed up in there and fixin' to make us waste our time—days,
maybe weeks— waitin' for them to come out."

"One
of you could have gone for help!" Caldwell insisted.

"And
leave the other one there alone? No, sir," Ken retorted. "Sometimes
we ride out on assignment alone, but once we're together, we stay
together."

John
thought it a little strange that Caldwell should care so much about what
happened to a bunch of cattle thieves... and rapists. He decided to do as Ken
had advised— not mention his real reason for blowing up the rustlers, because
they had raped a little Apache girl. Caldwell would have a fit over that one.
Maybe even Captain Booth would be outraged.

"I've
talked to your captain, told him citizens like ourselves are not going to
continue putting up with such behavior from the Texas Rangers!" Caldwell
demanded. "No bloody half-Indian bastard should even
be
a
Ranger!"

"John
Hawkins is the best man for the job in Texas!" Ken retorted. "He's
probably saved your own ass, or at least your property a few times, without you
even knowin' it!"

"Shut
up, Ken," John said, still remaining calm. However, Tess could feel his
tension, his quiet anger. He looked down on Caldwell, a rather burly man,
rugged and leather-faced, as any Texas rancher would be, but he was much
shorter than John. "You might think to ask about Mrs. Carey here, how she
is, what she's been through. You might ask if he needs any help, if she has any
place to go. You might tell her you're sorry about her husband and her father,
or maybe be glad I found her and got her back here in one piece before those
men could violate her and sell her. It seems to me, Mr. Caldwell, that you are
more concerned about a bunch of worthless cattle rustlers than you are about a
fine lady who has lived and struggled in these parts for years, one of the fine
citizens you say deserves our protection!"

Caldwell
pressed his lips together in chagrin, embarrassment obvious on his red face. He
glanced at Tess and tipped his hat. "I'm sorry, Tess. I've been stewing
the last few days about this other thing. I didn't think—"

"It's
all right, Mr. Caldwell," she answered, not believing for one second the
man really cared. "I am fine. It was a horrible experience, but Mr.
Hawkins came along before they..." She began to blush herself.
"Before the worst could happen. He took me to a farm where a kind woman
lent me some clothes. I am back safe and sound, and the awful Comancheros who
did this are dead, something for which Mr. Hawkins should be praised, I might
add."

Caldwell
scowled with irritation that she would defend John.

"He
and Mr. Randall also saved me from an attack by Apache Indians," Tess
added, "and he would do the same for any one of you. He does not deserve
to be insulted or reprimanded for doing what was simply his duty. You might
note the still-bloody scar across the side of his head. He also suffered an arm
wound, but that is mostly healed. You surely know this is not the first time he
has been wounded protecting Texas citizens, so save your criticism for the true
murderers and thieves, Mr. Caldwell!"