Love's Rescue (8 page)

Jess frowned. When she was young, she had paid close attention while her father taught Ambrose the strategies of playing poker. He had frequently lifted his thick, gray eyebrows and warned Ambrose, “Never bet money if you’re holding less than two pair.” She could still hear his voice. What would he tell her to do? The way she saw it, she was holding a slim two pair—and an objectionable Southern accent, to boot. Hardly decent odds. At the same time, she had no other means by which to support herself.

And there was also Kentucky. Bittersweet tears trickled onto the pillow. They had all gifted her with one remaining bequest. Greenbriar. It was hers now, hers to hold dear—but also hers to maintain for those who followed after, if it survived the war.

Jess began to envision the possibilities. Perhaps, if she sold the Hale property in Carson City, worked hard, and lived meagerly, she could sell Edmund her half of Hale Imports when the war ended and go back home to rebuild. She would have her father’s investment money, and she would find some way to prosper in Kentucky. In the meantime, she needed to regain her strength and wait out the war. Jess wiped her eyes and sat up carefully.

Besides, other Southerners live in the territory and occasionally come into the store, she thought. I might succeed or even excel in Carson City—who’s to know? Time would tell. She hoped it would also heal.

Someone knocked softly on the door. Red Deer entered silently, her steps muted by the moccasins on her feet. She carried a tray with two bowls and a steaming teacup, which she placed on the chair beside the bed. “You look rested,” she observed. “This is good. When the heart is sick, the body suffers, also.”

Jess nodded sympathetically at Red Deer and fingered her own hair. “You’ve known sadness too, Red Deer.”

“Yes. I lost my sister, Blue Bird. Two summers ago, she traveled with her husband and son to the mountains. They wanted to live far from white men,” she said with an apologetic look, then specified, “the white men who kill our game until we starve and who hunt our people like dogs.”

Jess understood and nodded for her to go on.

“This winter has been very cold. Even in her dwelling, fire and blankets could not keep out the terrible wind. Each night, Blue Bird slept holding her son against her to warm him. But one morning, he crawled from her arms and spoke to waken his mother. She did not answer. He touched her, but she was dead.”

Jess’s heart sank in regret. “She had frozen?”

“Yes. Now my husband and I take care of my sister’s son. His father lives in the north, protecting our people. Blue Bird is gone only one month. It is difficult to speak of her.”

Only one month. Jess didn’t believe a hundred months would lessen the pain either of them felt. “How long will you mourn?”

Red Deer lifted the tray and set it before Jess. “My people mourn until our hair again reaches the length it was before our loved ones died. I know my dear sister is with the Great Spirit Father, but always she stays close in my heart. This is why my people also bury the possessions of one who dies, that we will not see what was theirs and feel pain from the reminder.” Red Deer smiled softly. “But we always remember them, yes? And when we die, we live on in someone’s heart, also.”

“I suppose so,” Jess murmured, clenching the bedcovers to fight off fresh tears. She now lived in a country where death was becoming as common as life, and she couldn’t bear to hear another tragic thing. Red Deer had lost family, and she’d watched her people die. Jess didn’t know how she had survived it. She didn’t know how she would survive it. She only knew that if she had to remain in bed much longer, she might
go mad.

For both their sakes, Red Deer sought to disperse the gloom. “But now we must talk of better things.” She paused expectantly, and Jess appeased her by taking a few bites from a bowl of dried peaches and steaming porridge. “Your food, it is good?”

“It is very good,” she agreed, taking a sip of hot tea. Red Deer chatted quietly about simpler matters, and Jess realized she was quite hungry, eating the soft oats by the spoonful until they were gone.

Jess was curious about the reed tray on her lap, and Red Deer described to her the plant baskets, bowls, and trays the Paiute women made, which were not only prized for their beauty, but also woven so tightly that not a drop of water could seep through. Jess listened, eager to hear about anything tangible that anchored her to life, and she marveled at the skill—and cuts and blisters—required for such skillful construction.

Glancing at her clothes, which were hanging to the side, Jess saw that Red Deer had laundered them, as promised. By the time she finished her meal, she resented the soot and dirt that remained on her skin, and she couldn’t bear that her hair still smelled of smoke.

“Red Deer, how long have I been here?”

Red Deer stood up and removed the tray from her lap. “Today is your third day.”

“Three days!”

Red Deer gazed at Jess in alarm. “Do you wish to sleep again?”

“No, but how long was I on the horse?”

Cautiously, she answered, “One day and one night.”

Jess pushed herself upright. The pain of the burns had dulled. “I have been gone four days?” She shoved her covers aside and gained her feet beside the dressing table. “Four days? Red Deer, I need to bury my family! I need somebody to take me to Carson City.” With short, fitful movements, Jess flipped through her undergarments in search of her corset. “Will your husband take me? If not,” Jess muttered, “I can saddle a horse and go myself. The horses belong to Bennett, don’t they? He owes me, anyhow.” She tossed the corset and her pantalettes onto the bed. “Carson is to the south; I can find my own way.” Jess read hurt and confusion in Red Deer’s face, and she quickly curbed her harshness. “Could you tell me where water is to wash with? I don’t wish to trouble you any further.” A glance out the window told her the sun had risen.

“Jessica, I will get you water, but are you sure you should do this? You are not strong yet, and a woman traveling alone is not safe.”

“I have to bury my family,” Jess insisted, desperately yearning to be near them. She struggled with a knot in the drawstring of her petticoat.

“I understand, but you have been ill. You are not ready for this journey. Look how thin you are, and how you shake!” Her voice softened. “Jessica, days have passed. Friends will have buried your family. You would be wise to stay here.”

The Van Dorns again. Yes, Edmund would have seen to it they were buried. Dear Edmund. He had done so much for them all.

“Is Bennett still gone?” Jess asked.

“Yes. When he leaves, he is often away for many days.”

She recalled that Jake had said he needed to purchase other supplies for the ranch. “Then I will stay, Red Deer,” Jess said with resignation. “If you don’t mind, I would like to help with a few chores so that I can regain my strength.”

“A little work may be good. But now I will bring up water. In the trunk are dresses that may fit you.” Red Deer left with the tray.

Aside from the bed, chairs, and dressing table, the trunk holding the lantern was the only other furnishing in the room. Jess rounded the bed to the trunk, pushing past her fatigue and drawing on a need to escape the four walls. She set the lamp on the floor and knelt down to open the lid.

Inside were three gowns: two of yellow calico and one of dark red wool. Beneath them lay a belt of braided leather. Jake keeps full sets of women’s clothes at his ranch? Jess thought with disgust. Whether he gave them as payment or as replacements, she didn’t care to contemplate. Thinking of the man only infuriated her. She didn’t want to think about him, much less see him. To be certain of avoiding him, she determined to leave the ranch before he returned. Two days. She’d give herself two days to regain her strength. Then she would leave.

Jess lifted a bundle of yellow out of the trunk and pushed herself to her feet. All three dresses had essentially the same pattern: button fronts, full sleeves, and yards of skirt. They were in good condition, no matter what kind of woman they were intended for, and would serve well for the remainder of her brief stay.

Red Deer returned with a child-sized bathing tub balanced on one hip; in her free hand, she carried a large bucket of steaming water. Unprepared to reflect on bittersweet reminders of Emma, Jess directed her gaze to the items inside the tub—a towel, a soaping cloth, a hunk of oddly shaped soap, a hairbrush, and a pair of fur-lined Indian boots. While Red Deer arranged these items on the plank floor and dressing table, Jess glanced curiously through the half-opened door. She saw a short hallway and a stick-and-branch railing, which opened to reveal a set of stairs leading to a lower room. Beyond it, the opposite side of the timbered roofline sloped down.

Jess stopped the smile of pleasure that was forming on her lips. This cozy home was Jake’s, she reminded herself.

Red Deer set the bucket and towel within Jess’s reach, then left her alone.

Above the trunk, a small mirror hung on the wall. Jess studied her reflection for the first time since the night of the fire. Her chestnut hair and green eyes resembled those of the woman Isaac Hale had fallen in love with and married more than a quarter of a century ago. Her mother’s earrings and the emerald pendant Ambrose had given her lay, as before, on the dressing table. Jess was thankful that her own culture didn’t bury these precious reminders of those dearest to the heart. She would cherish these heirlooms and remember her family for a long time to come, and she was glad of it. There was nothing she wanted to forget. Except for the pain, now inextricably wound with the pleasant memories.

***

The hot bath greatly revived Jess’s spirits. She applied herself to scrubbing away the soot and smoke from her skin, and she found herself drawn to the scents and sensations of the present. For a time, she was able to set the recent past aside.

Only after Jess had scrubbed her hair and rinsed it twice did the smoky tinge fade to her satisfaction. The room began to smell less like ashes and more like rosewater and pine.

She pulled the dress on and buttoned it, no longer needing wraps since her burns had begun to heal. With none of the fashionable set around to impress, her corset held her to a more comfortable degree of confinement than she was used to, and Jess breathed deeply for no reason other than she was able to. The gown fit a bit loosely in the middle, even with the slackened corset, so she simply let the waist fall to the top of her hips and drew in the braided leather belt. With their fur linings, the Indian boots were warm and comfortable.

She needed to rest occasionally as she bathed and dressed, but the exercise gradually restored a portion of her strength. When Jess had finished weaving her hair into a thick braid that hung to her waist, Red Deer brought her a more substantial, meaty soup to eat, and the nourishment helped strengthen her even more.

Alone again, Jess used the corner of a towel to rub her teeth with a sprinkling of salt from a jar in the dressing table in order to clean them. Next, she used a needle and thread from a small sewing kit to secure her jewelry among the layers of her petticoats for safekeeping. Her gaze shifted frequently with renewed interest to the door. Finally, she hung her towels over the chairs to dry, deciding she would return later to put away the tub. She wanted to explore the ranch house and slake her curiosity about her new surroundings.

When she opened the door, the cheery sound of a crackling fire greeted her from below, and she stepped out onto what was more of a short balcony than a hallway. Jess opened the door next to hers. It was similar to her own in size and shape and was currently being used for storage. She continued on. At the top of the stairs was a third bedroom. This one was filled with a man’s belongings.

Bennett’s.

Jess approached the open doorway, catching pleasant whiffs of leather from within the room. From wall pegs hung long trousers, a few woven vests, and an old set of spurs. On the floor beneath them lay strips of cowhide partially braided into a whip-thin rope. Helplessly drawn by the belongings that were so masculine—so Bennett—Jess moved into the room. She trailed her fingers over the brightly colored Indian blanket that overlay the large bed and added warmth to the room. Beside the bed stood a tall chest of drawers topped with a lamp. On the peg wall was a washstand, a furnishing her room lacked.

Jess paused beside it to gaze out the window. Less than a mile to the south rose the pine-dotted slopes of the Sierra Nevadas, and, quite near the house, sat the outhouse. Jess lifted a brow. Until now, she had been using a chamber pot. She would forgo that amenity in favor of an excuse to go outside.

Stabs of guilt for intruding on his space pricked her conscience. Disgusted with herself that she even cared, Jess spun about—and froze.

Jake was standing in the doorway, watching her quietly. Her heart leapt to see his whiskey-brown eyes gazing steadily into hers. She recalled the pleasant ride they had shared into the mountains, and the way he had held her against him that last night in Carson City. Though he looked tired, his face was handsome with two days’ whiskers roughing his jaw. He wore another flannel shirt, this one dark red to match the bandana around his neck. His sturdy frame practically filled the doorway, made more impressive still by a new sheepskin coat.

Jess swiftly recalled where she was and what had happened during her last night in Carson City—everything she had lost—and squared her chin. She refused to allow this man she had begun to care for to step any further into her life.

“Hello, Jess.”

The timbre of his voice made her heart race at a panicked speed. By an effort of will, she slowed it by dwelling on her discontent. Moving toward him, she ignored his gentlemanly gesture of removing his hat, and she concentrated instead on images of when she had seen him last—when he had abandoned her father to the flames.

Rage swelled inside her, and she pushed past him forcefully. “Stay away from me!” she said firmly, then ran from the room and rushed down the stairs.

Below the stairs to the left, a low table, sofa, and two chairs faced the hearth. Nearly hidden from view by a column of chimney stones was the door.