Plots and Pans (31 page)

“I know full well the power of my aunt’s cooking,” Ed solemnly agreed, holding his grave expression as he added, “I’ll have you know I’ve made more than my fair share of trips to the springhouse over the years.”

At that, Desta couldn’t hold back her mirth. The giggles burst from her lips and grew until she panted, holding her sides and wailing with laughter. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes before she finally regained her breath. She returned Ed’s mischievous grin with a wide one of her own.

“You and yore father shoulda had more kindness than to keep taking my meals like that.” She got the words out before another chuckle shook her. This time Ed joined in.

“It’s not funny.” Tucker, the only other person present who’d tasted her cooking, was in no mood to appreciate the irony of the situation. “Though it’s a good point. Miss Desta, if I brought you along as our cook, the men wouldn’t keep on through the whole trip.”

Jess broke in. “I made those shepherd pies Ralph mentioned. Aunt Desta helped. Plus you all know she bakes like an angel, and I can cook circles around anyone who’s run your chuck wagon before.” She paused then cleared her throat and added, “But don’t tell Cookie I said so.”

“Baking house beauty.” Ralph’s murmur didn’t reach anyone else’s ears, but Desta stiffened.

How many years since someone called me that?
She took a shaky breath and resolutely looked everywhere but at Ralph.
Not long enough
.

The phrase brought back too many painful memories. Mama shut her away in the plantation baking kitchen from an early age, as slaves learned to do with their pretty young girls. That didn’t make it any less lonely … nor did it help prepare her for life beyond the protective prison. How much of her life was wasted as she hid from the unknown? And when would she stop hiding?

“That’s ‘nough.” For a moment Desta didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud. She’d been trying to stuff her black thoughts back into the place where she kept everything that should be forgotten, but couldn’t. Now everyone was staring at her, but for once she didn’t blush or back down.

“That’s ‘nough arguing, Tucker. You got no right to order us off the trail because we’re women. We’re part owners. We decided we’re going. Stop squawking and settle into the circumstances.”

“Two days.” He sounded hoarse from too much talking. “We don’t leave for two days. Ed could find someone in that time.”

Ed started shaking his head before Tucker finished. “I asked around, and you know we were already having to pay Rick almost double the standard wage. There are no cooks for hire. Worse, I’ve already had men come up to me worried about the situation. If you can’t find someone else in two days, the women earn their place on the long drive.”

Lord, You know how hard I tried to find another way
. Tucker hit the road the way he always did—on a horse and a prayer.

Failure lay like a bitter coating across the back of his tongue. He couldn’t get the taste out of his mouth, so he turned to the Almighty for help.
I’m trying to accept that taking two women up the trail falls under one of Your designs. I know it’s not one of mine. Mine are usually a whole lot more practical—and a whole lot less pretty
.

The thought snuck in before Tucker could catch it, stopping his prayer. Furious with himself, furious with her for no new reason—though the old ones were plenty strong enough—he spurred his mount to go faster. As trail boss, one of his most important functions was scouting ahead. The entire endeavor depended on his ability to locate the best campsite locations for the chuck wagon, hearty forage for the cattle to put on plenty of weight during the journey, and fresh water for everyone on the road. Along with that, he kept an eye out for trouble in the form of Indians, inhospitable settlers, cattle rustlers, and even other outfits moving on the trail.

It meant a lot of responsibility—but it also gave him good reason to leave Jessalyn and her hastily modified chuck wagon behind. For a short time at least. He’d postponed their departure so long, hoping for divine intervention, that they wouldn’t move the herd off Bar None land that day. First days never did get the drive very far, but this one would be monumentally unimpressive. Yet it gave them one more day on ranch land, in case a cook came riding in for Ed to send their way.

Since he wouldn’t make it far enough to use his familiar first-day site, Tucker needed to find a nice spot, ride back, then escort the women and the wagons to the campsite. The first of dozens of days he’d be looking ahead, riding alongside, and finally following behind the women and their wagons. Something about leading a woman, only to have to chase after her, seemed an eerily appropriate description of his interactions with Jessalyn.

On the trail, once he’d seen her to the campsite, he could wash his hands of her until mealtime. With a little luck, he could ditch his thoughts about her for a while, too. When a woman invaded his very prayers, the time had come to establish distance. Failing that—say, if the obstinate female wrangled herself a place on your cattle drive—Tucker could at least set up some rules and boundaries.

And top of the list came his determination to treat her like any other cook working for his crew. Tucker would hold her to the same exacting standards he’d demanded of the men before her. That included keeping the same grueling schedule as the others while producing chuck of the volume and quality his men deserved. If he couldn’t keep Jessalyn off the trail, at least he could keep her so busy she wouldn’t have time to get herself in trouble.

Tucker snorted at the ridiculousness of his own thoughts. The woman already landed herself in the worst trouble of her life. She just didn’t know it yet.

T
his is going to be the most exciting trip of my life!” Jessalyn almost wriggled with excitement.

Desta sat beside her on the driver’s seat, somehow managing to stay stiff as a poker in spite of the comfortable cushions she’d run up the day before to pad the hard wooden bench. She held firm against even the sway of the wagon, only showing discomfort on the occasions when a wagon wheel hit a rock. Or a rut. Or a clump of earth. Pretty much anything that made the rig bounce up and down in addition to the creaking side-to-side sway.

Compared to that, Jess knew she wouldn’t look proper no matter how many wriggles she suppressed. In fact, Desta’s composure looked so eerily perfect, it went far beyond a display of decorum. Abruptly, she wondered whether someone dared play a trick and stick a stone under her aunt’s cushion.

“Are you all right?” she demanded, keeping her voice low even though there was no chance any of the men would’ve heard her over the gentle thunder of so many hooves striking earth. “You look uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine.” Desta compressed her lips into a tight line that told otherwise. She kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, refusing to meet Jess’s questioning gaze.

“Are you angry with me?” Her elation plummeted in the space of a single heartbeat. “Have you changed your mind? If you have, we’ll have one of the men escort you back straightaway. I’ll be fine.” Actually, Jess wasn’t so sure about that. She’d been so relieved at the prospect of having another woman along, especially her aunt, that she hadn’t given much thought to the question of whether or not she’d be up to the task of chuck-wagon cook for a sizeable outfit all on her own.

The doubt galvanized her, putting enough starch in her spine for her to match her aunt’s impeccable posture.
I’m up to it
. She set her jaw and slid a glance at Desta, who looked like she’d gone pale.
I have to be
.

“Whoa.” She started pulling on the reins and bringing the wagon to a stop, but her aunt reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“Keep going.” For the first time since they’d settled onto the seat, Desta looked her in the eyes. “I’ll be fine in a bit, once I get used to it. When we was makin’ all our plans, I never hopped on up here for the feel of it. Didn’t see the need, since you’d be doin’ the driving.”

“Does the motion make you feel sick?” Jess held her breath, hoping this wasn’t the case. If so, she wouldn’t put her aunt through weeks’ worth of torture as they covered hundreds of miles.

Desta shook her head and curled her fingers under the lip of the seat, clutching the cushion so hard it compressed almost as flat as the wood beneath. “It’s just a lot higher up here than I reckoned, is all.”

Jess considered this, uncertain whether or not Desta would be able to adjust. The memory of Tucker panicking at the windmill, explaining how height could make men so afraid they turned dizzy, fell from their perch, and died, made her shiver in spite of the hot summer sunshine.

I can’t live with the knowledge that I helped cause the deaths of Papa and Aunt Desta
.

As always, the thought of Papa wrenched her. Jess looked around to see if she could spot Tucker. One man on horseback could cover a lot of ground in a very short time, certainly far more quickly than a lumbering wagon packed pillar to post with anything and everything Jess and Desta could think of.

Well,
almost
everything. They’d talked their way into taking a second, smaller wagon so they could fit
everything
. The youngster assigned to helping the cook was driving that one.

Tucker had proved none too happy with the idea either. Since he stayed so adamantly opposed to them going at all, he made it hard to tell whether any of the extra little adjustments they made really put his nose any further out of joint. But surely his annoyance wouldn’t keep him from checking in with them and making sure there weren’t any major issues he needed to address? Say, for instance, if Aunt Desta suddenly discovered a fear of heights?

She craned her neck, agitated by her inability to see around the sides of the wagon. So long as she was driving, her range of vision would be very limited. She could only see ahead.

But that’s all right
, she told herself.
After so many years, I didn’t want to look back on staying stuck right where I was. I’m used to only looking ahead
.

Ahead lies hope. Ahead lies possibility. Ahead lies anything and everything that will be better than the frustrations of today.

Except … today was finally exciting. She’d be having the time of her life if it weren’t for her worry about Aunt Desta. For the first time, Jess had good reason to look around.

Where is he?
Jess looked around again, but still couldn’t spot the man.
Doesn’t he know that while we’re working hard to see his crew through the drive, we’re relying on him?

Wait
. Only her concern about how a sudden stop might affect Aunt Desta kept her from yanking the wagon to a halt, so overwhelming was her sudden need to stop and take stock of things.
When did I start relying on Tucker?

Fingers tightening her grip on the reins, Jess kept herself from pulling back by planting her boots against the floor of the wagon and pressing down. The physical action distracted her, a gesture to anchor her swirling thoughts.

Sometimes knowing you had the power to stop gave you the strength to keep moving. But what if you’d started to rely on someone other than yourself? How strong could you be then?

Jess drew a deep breath and shoved the disturbing questions aside. Instead of thinking about Tucker and looking for him to solve her problems, Jess did what she always did: tackled it herself. Trying to keep her voice level so she didn’t startle her aunt, she probed for more information. “I didn’t know you were afraid of heights.”

“Me either. Never really climbed anything higher than a regular ol’ buckboard before.” She sounded steadier than she had a moment ago, and she looked a bit less stiff.

In fact, when Jess glanced over, she spotted her aunt loosening her grip on the bench so she could lean toward the side of the wagon and take a look over the edge. Surely a woman petrified of the view wouldn’t do that?

“Feels different, don’t it?” Desta stopped looking over the side and straightened back up, this time sitting more comfortably. “Bein’ up this high. The way the whole thing moves seems a lot less steady.”

“I know what you mean.” Jess snuck another look at her aunt, glad to see she’d regained her usual, beautiful coloring. “The higher up, the more you feel the motion. It’s got longer to travel so every movement seems more pronounced.”

Desta snapped her fingers. “That’s ‘zactly so. Took me by surprise. When a body got no warning, you have a rough time telling if it’s yore stomach that’s doin’ all the jumping, if yore gonna fall clean from yore seat, or if it’s working as it should.”

“The motion carries farther, like I said.” Jess searched for another way to explain it. “It’s like how when you walk beside Ralph, you each take one step. You start out in the same place, but he’d go a lot farther if he weren’t adjusting his stride. He’s taller, so the same motion carries him a longer distance. Same thing on this wagon—the higher up you are, the bigger it makes the movement.”

For a moment Desta didn’t say anything. “I like that. Seems to me that something built along the same lines as Ralph will be as solid and dependable as the day is long. Much more sturdy than any old buckboard.”