Love's Rescue (11 page)

Red Deer scattered the dried herbs into the bubbling pot, then wiped her hands on a cloth. “But Mr. Bennett is different. He is a good man.”

Unless danger threatens, Jess thought.

“He lets us live here so that other white men do not trouble us, and he speaks peacefully to all people. The Paiute men work and are paid the same as the white men. Always there is food for us and for our old people and our children.”

Jess was ready for Red Deer to stop talking now, but she continued, oblivious to Jess’s animosity toward Jake.

“Among the Paiutes, he is known as Many Horses, and he is respected. On this ranch, our people can hunt when they wish, and they catch fish. Our elders teach our children the ways of the people, and they also teach them to honor the Spirit Father and to send their prayers to Him.”

She sighed in acceptance—no, contentment, Jess realized.

“I know that my family will survive here. While I cook, they are nearby in our village. They, too, work and teach and learn the old ways, and when Lone Wolf and I walk home each night, we know that our place here is good.”

Red Deer looked up. Jessica was sitting as far from the coffee grinder as she could while dutifully turning the crank. The Indian woman laughed softly.

“You do not like coffee, Jessica? I will grind; you may stir the soup.”

Later that afternoon, when they began to set up for the evening meal, Red Deer took the stack of plates from Jess. “You are moving slower. You are not well yet. Why not get some rest? When you feel strong, you may help again.”

True, Jess was utterly exhausted. She had done little physical work, but invading images of battles and fires had begun to trouble her and wear down her mind and, by extension, her body. With a word of gratitude, Jess put on her coat and mittens, then crossed the yard to the big house. The wagon had not been moved, though a canvas covering had been pulled over its bulging load.

Winter’s early darkness encroached, turning the wind cold, and she was chilled and shaking when she pushed the heavy timber door closed. Inside felt blessedly warm, like the cookhouse. The hearth blazed invitingly, and Jess moved toward it, still huddled in her coat. Evidently, someone had kept the fire going just for her, since she didn’t think that Jake spent much time here other than at night, to sleep. She gave the matter no further thought than that. She was far too tired.

Gradually, she warmed up. Red Deer’s words came back to her—how her people lived on the ranch, how she could go home to her family and find comfort with them. Aching with memories and loss, Jess hung the coat and mittens on a peg near the door. She made her way to the staircase and climbed the steps to the privacy of her room.

The towels were dry, so she folded them, then set all the bath items on the floor. She removed all but her chemise and climbed into bed.

Through it all, she harbored a heavy, hardened heart toward Jake. She couldn’t forgive him—couldn’t begin to—though she’d been brought up knowing the wrongness of such an attitude. She fell asleep in the dark silence of the house, wondering where she and her family would be at that moment if all of them had survived.

***

Jake came in for the night and closed the door behind him, his eyes pausing on the woolen coat Jess had finally accepted. Well, that was one battle won. He slowly removed his hat and clapped it on its peg, satisfied with the day’s other accomplishments.

He worked his way out of his new sheepskin coat and hung it beside Jess’s. His old one hadn’t survived the fire, but it had kept the worst of the falling embers from him when the house had collapsed. He had the Lord to thank that Lone Wolf, Taggart, and the others had rushed to the Hales’ house when they saw the flames. Lone Wolf had saved Jess’s life. Jake wouldn’t have reached her in time.

Attempting to draw his thoughts back to the present, Jake sat down to weigh his plans for Taggart for the following days. The wagon was loaded and ready to be driven to the winter line camps come morning. He pulled out the notes he’d made and went over the list of supplies Taggart would take, making certain that nothing had been forgotten.

But images of the Hale house lingered in his mind.

Edmund Van Dorn had arrived, greatly alarmed, only minutes after the ranchmen had ridden off with Jess. He had seen the blaze from his house. Jake knew that folks must have seen the flames and smoke from all over the city. When Jake had told him the fate of the Hales, Edmund had wailed hopelessly for them while howling flames consumed the rest of the house.

The wind had blown cinders to neighboring houses, and the night had become a frenzy of bucket lines and people with wet blankets beating out fires.

By morning, several other homes had suffered smoke damage, and a few rooftops had been burned, but the only house that had been leveled was the Hales’. After dozens of people spent a sleepless night battling the inferno, the sun rose to reveal black ribbons of smoke rising from the ashes. Jake and Edmund had picked their ways through the residual heat and brittle ruins to locate the bodies of the Hales. After the remains had been covered and taken away for burial, Edmund had collected himself well enough to invite Jake to his home to clean up and get some rest. He didn’t sleep much, though.

Later that afternoon, Edmund went to ask the Hales’ pastor to perform the funeral service. Jake purchased a new set of clothes for himself to replace the scorched ones. With a list of the Hales’ full names—including Jessica’s—in his pocket, he arranged for a burial plot and ordered a tombstone. Isaac had been their mutual friend, and, during dinner that night at the Van Dorns’, Jake, Edmund, and Miriam exchanged quiet and sometimes lighthearted reminiscences of the man and his family, none of them wanting to dwell on the funeral service to come. Later that night, in the privacy of Edmund’s study, Jake told him that Jess alone survived and expressed his concern about the Confederate flag and the kerosene. Together, they had made plans, and Edmund had agreed that Jess should remain in safety at Jake’s ranch until the arsonists were found.

Jake rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, trying to decide what to do about Jess. Jess fought helplessness with anger; he’d seen her do it before, but she had chosen to direct her anger over her loss at him. The moment he had arrived at the ranch this morning, she’d set out to leave. He couldn’t let her. Not with men out there who wanted her dead. Not when everyone in Carson City believed she was dead. Here, she was safe. Besides, working around the ranch, as she’d asked to do, would be to her benefit. At best, it would give her the chance to tell him what was on her mind, if she chose. At least…well, she’d be out in wide, open places, closer to the Almighty, and she just might be reminded of His nearness amid the beauty of the land and mountains.

He knew firsthand how that could help when nothing else could. There were days when being in the wilderness—witnessing its natural, untainted beauty—had been all that had gotten him through. Gut-busting work had helped him through the rest. Yes, he’d try to get Jess to talk to him over the following days. He’d seen hatred toward him in her eyes earlier. He hoped to find out what had put it there.

That settled, Jake lighted a lamp with a stick of wood from the fire and climbed the stairs to his room. He placed the lamp on the chest of drawers, and then, with painstaking movements, eased out of his clothes. His naked back was reflected in the window glass. A wide crescent of burned flesh extended from his shoulder blade to his ribs, caused by the roof collapsing above him when he had tried to go in after the Hales.

After breakfast the next morning, Red Deer asked Jess if she would see to dinner and supper for the men. A friend’s child had become ill, Red Deer explained, and since she had healing skills, she had been asked to help. Jess assured her she would take care of the meals.

Once she was alone in the cookhouse, Jess noticed the heartache of past days gradually fading as she busied herself. She prepared ham, biscuits, and sweetened apples for dinner, then potato soup and corn bread for the evening meal. It was perhaps seven at night, to her estimation, when she finished drying the last of the supper dishes. As she was hanging up a dishcloth, she looked up to see Jake and a ranch hand stroll into the cookhouse. Both hung up their coats but kept their hats on their heads, as if hats didn’t belong anywhere else. Jess smiled a little. Cattlemen must be born with hats on. Jake nodded pleasantly to her as he came over, then gestured to his companion.

“Jess, this young man is Seth Griffin. Seth, this is Miss Jessica Hale, who’s staying with us for a time.”

Young man was right. Wide, brown eyes stared down in amazement at her from beneath his tan hat, and below his boyish face, his Adam’s apple bobbed. Jess was willing to bet he had yet to need a shaving, though he stood with confidence, and something about him told her he could make good use of the gun at his hip if he needed to.

Respectfully, he touched his fingers to his hat. “Ma’a—” His voice caught. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Ma’am.”

Jess concealed her surprise at his admiration of her. She still wasn’t used to the way cattlemen, by nature, put women on a pedestal. “Good evening,” she said. She couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge Jake. “Are you newly hired, Seth? I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Oh, no, ma’am. I’ve been working out at one of the line camps—small stations set at the borders of the ranch,” he explained when he saw her confusion. “The big ranches in Texas and the plains do the same. We look after the cows until spring, make sure they have food and water and such.” Looking pleased with her attentiveness, he went on. “When there’s a hard winter with lots of snow, we have to dig to find them food and chop holes in the ice to water them, but mostly we search for strays and bring them back, and keep an eye out for rustlers. Since there are few neighbors to the west and none to the east, there’re lots of places the cattle can wander off to, and there’s a lot of thievin’.” He briefly turned his attention to Jake. “Taggart’s keeping an eye on things until I get back tomorrow. He said that with the mare nearing her time, I’d best bring her back here to foal.”

For a moment, the two discussed which horse Seth would take when he rode out in the morning. While they did, Jess realized he must not have eaten yet. She waited until they quieted.

“Seth, would you care for supper?”

“Oh yes, ma’am, I surely would.”

Jake went to put more wood on the fire. “Is there any coffee, Jess?”

She reached for a clean plate and shuddered at the word coffee. Jake saw it. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile.

“No, there isn’t,” she said. “Red Deer made enough this morning to last the day, but the others finished it a short
while ago.”

“No matter,” Seth said cheerily. “I brought a kettle of coffee along to keep me warm during the ride. I’ll go get it.”

When the door closed behind him, Jess glanced at Jake, having no choice but to discuss a matter that concerned her. “Bennett, I can’t stay at the ranch house…sleep there.”

“There are two extra rooms, plenty of space. Besides, I’m hardly ever there.”

“It’s bad enough for an unmarried woman to stay one night in the same house as a man, but to live together for days on end, it…it just isn’t done!” Her current feelings toward him had nothing to do with this. She had been raised a proper, genteel Southern lady with a corresponding sense of decorum!

He rested his hands on his hips and bowed his head in thought.

“Jess, I wasn’t brought up knowing all the social dos and don’ts you were taught, but my pa did raise my brothers and me not only to act honorably, but to be honorable. I will bring you no shame, Jess—not here, and not anywhere else. The folks around here know that.” He lifted his eyes to her. “None of my men has shown you any disrespect, right?”

She thought of the harmless four who’d ridden with them when they’d seen the sunrise together and the many more she’d met over the past few days. “No, none has,” she conceded.

“They won’t, either. I’ve never known a man who has higher regard for a woman than a cattleman. That’s just how the breed is made.”

After mulling his words, she nodded, then added warm apples to the plate for Seth.

“This is a good place to be, Jess,” Jake said softly. “The land is good and the work is good. Some folks even believe it’s easier to see the Almighty out here where there’s no city or crowds to block your view.”

Resenting the reminder of the God who had abandoned her, Jess didn’t answer.

When Seth returned with the kettle, he set it in the flames to heat it. Jake grabbed a biscuit and sat down with him. Several minutes passed before Seth paused from eating to make a compliment. “Those are the best apples and biscuits I’ve had in a long time.”

Jess waved a hand toward the barrels and sacks. “All the makings were right here.”

“Someone like me don’t much know what to do with them, though. This kind of work can make a man thin.”

Jess didn’t understand. “You mean ranch work?”

“He means duty at line camp,” Jake explained in his deep voice.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s what I meant. The food here at the ranch is real good. It has to be, or else the men’ll move on to better. I can’t cook none myself, but some of the linemen do just fine.”

Jess nearly laughed until she saw the boy was serious. She took a seat near him on the bench, pushing aside her aversion to Jake to talk with the boy, who seemed hungry for company. “Men will leave to work at a ranch with a better cook?”

“Yes, ma’am. Cattlemen will stay to finish a job if they give their word, or if they feel beholden to a rancher, or if there’s a pretty girl to look at.” He grinned, surprising her and apparently himself, as well, with the comment. He was quick to recover. “But they also move on when they want, for their own reasons, or for no reason at all. One night, a man’s here; the next morning, his bunk is empty and he’s gone. Working cows at one ranch is pretty much the same as working cows at another, so nobody stays long if the food is bad.”

“It happens,” Jake affirmed. “So I employ the best cook to be found, and then I have my pick of good working men. Most have been at the ranch since the beginning.”