The Long Way Home (7 page)

When Lyons clumped through the brush, the look he sent her from under shaggy brows made her smile and swallow her laughter. His wet hair hung in curling locks to his shoulders, and his beard did the same on his chest.

‘‘You sure you know how to cut hair properlike?’’

‘‘Learned at my mother’s knee, just like I learned most everything else. Got so’s my brothers would rather have me cut their hair than Mother, said I got it more even.’’ Jesselynn studied the mass before her. ‘‘This is going to take some whacking.’’

‘‘Whackin’! You said—’’

‘‘Just teasing.’’ She clamped her elbows into his shoulders and pushed him back down. She leaned forward just a bit and whispered in his ear. ‘‘Don’t you know I’m trying to help you?’’

He cranked his head around to peer up at her. One hand came out to push back the locks that obscured his vision. ‘‘Help me what?’’ He huffed as he turned forward again.

Jesselynn lifted a lock and snipped, then repeated the action with the next, starting with the top of his head.

‘‘Help me what?’’

‘‘Sit still or you’re going to have a mighty funny haircut.’’ She snipped as she spoke.

He sighed, a heavy sigh that rocked his shoulders. ‘‘Sometimes help is awful painful.’’

‘‘You know, you have very nice hair, thick, and now that I can see it without the dust, a fine color.’’
How old are you? Maybe I shouldn’t think of you as ‘‘old man.’’
There didn’t seem to be much gray in the fox red mass.

‘‘Thankee, I guess.’’ His shoulders slumped. ‘‘You wouldn’t mind tellin’ me what kind a help I’m needin’, would you?’’

Now it was Jesselynn’s turn to sigh. ‘‘Ophelia seems to think you are sweet on Aunt Agatha. . . .’’ She waited for some sort of answer. When he didn’t respond, she shook her head and continued snipping. Now all the ringlets lay in a pool at her feet. With the comb she lifted the hair, held it between two fingers and cut. Slowly but surely, snip by snip, a well-shaped head appeared. ‘‘So are you?’’

‘‘Are I what?’’

‘‘Dear Lord, preserve us.’’ She combed his damp hair back to reveal a broad forehead. The hair fell in waves, glinting in the sunlight. ‘‘Well, I’ll be . . .’’

‘‘What in tarnation are we talkin’ about?’’

Jesselynn stopped her barbering, leaned forward, and whispered in his ear. ‘‘Are you sweet on Aunt Agatha?’’

‘‘The way she treats me? What kinda idjit you think I am?’’ He spun around to stare at her.

‘‘You need your eyebrows trimmed too. I’ll do them when I work on your beard.’’

‘‘I kin cut my own beard.’’

‘‘But you didn’t, so I will.’’ She leveled a gaze at him that would stop a charging buffalo. When he clamped his eyes shut, she tapped him on the nose. ‘‘Relax. I promise not to stab you.’’

‘‘ ’Sides, she don’t like me.’’

‘‘Maybe so, maybe no.’’ She trimmed the sides of his face. ‘‘You want to keep the mustache?’’

‘‘Yes.’’

‘‘Why? You have a well-formed mouth. You know, I think there’s been a handsome man hiding behind all this hair.’’

His skin took on the tone of the hair and felt hot. He closed his eyes.

Jesselynn made one more pass with the comb and scissors, then stepped back. She tilted her head, studying him from all sides. Using her fingers, she fluffed the hair and combed the sides back. ‘‘Sure do wish I had a mirror here for you to see.’’ She removed the sheet she’d tied around his neck and brushed the hair off his shoulders and shirtfront with it.

‘‘There now, that didn’t kill you, did it?’’

He studied his hands before looking up at her. ‘‘You think there could be a chance for me? With Miss Agatha, I mean.’’ His voice was so low, Jesselynn had to lean forward to hear him.

‘‘I’m thinking there might. You read her some of that Shakespeare every night and just be your sweet self in general, and how could she not enjoy your company?’’
And besides, she might have to beat off Mrs. Mac when they see what a handsome man we’ve been driving with
.

Nate nodded, slapped his hat against his thigh, flinched at the dust cloud that billowed, and let out a breath. ‘‘Guess I better wash the hat too. No tellin’ what water might do to it.’’ He stared at the relic that looked like mice had nibbled off nest lining from its brim.

Jesselynn stepped back. ‘‘Glad you see it thataway. Maybe a dunking would suffice. Get rid of the dust at least, though how your hat can be so dusty after that rainstorm we had—’’

‘‘Ingrained, I ’magine.’’ He turned the hat in his hands, poking a finger through one hole. ‘‘Goin’ to have to be soap.’’ Shaking his head, he got to his feet. ‘‘Thankee, Miss Jesselynn. You done me a world a service.’’

Jesselynn ignored the ‘‘Miss’’. Nate Lyons had always called her Marse Jesse like the others. Looked like they’d become friends at last. After all, from now on, she could go by Miss Jesselynn again, britches or no britches. ‘‘Thank you, and you are most indeed welcome.’’

Agatha never said a word when Nate Lyons presented himself back in camp, but she poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him without a harrumph or even that stitched look about her mouth.

Nate drank the coffee down and hung the cup back on the row of mugs.

‘‘Where’s your hat?’’ Agatha moved the coffeepot into the cooler coals.

‘‘Gave it a drubbin’.’’

‘‘Might be I could patch that hole in the crown.’’ She didn’t look at him as she spoke but studied the potholder twisting in her hands.

‘‘Bein’ as it’s wool felt, you s’pose I could trim up that brim with a scissors?’’

‘‘Perhaps. But you might want to put it back on your head so the crown don’t shrink.’’

‘‘Thankee for the good advice. I’ll go do that.’’ Nate Lyons left the cook fire whistling.

Jesselynn, standing out of sight behind the wagon, used every bit of her self-control to keep from whooping and hollering. Those two had spoken more words to each other in the last five minutes than in all the rest of the trip combined.

She strolled out and, taking a mug off the rack, poured herself a cup of coffee. ‘‘Old Brushface surely is looking good.’’

For that she did get a humph but an exceedingly weak one.

Meshach winked at Jesselynn when she passed by his forge and anvil, and Ophelia giggled behind her fingers.

Jesselynn and Benjamin mounted up in the cool breezes before the stars left off their twinkling. The rest of the folks were just starting to shuffle around.

‘‘God be wid you.’’ Meshach’s blessing lifted on the cool air. ‘‘We be prayin’.’’

‘‘We too. See you back at the fort, if not before.’’

The two rode into the rising sun, watching it gild the hillcrests and paint the clouds in shades of joy. They kept the horses at a steady jog, stopping to rest midmorning, then pushing on. When they reached a wide creek, they dismounted and let the horses have a couple of gulps of water before pulling them back to graze. Jesselynn removed her boots and rolled up her pant legs before striding out in the creek. She dipped water and splashed it up her arms and over her face.

Ahab threw up his head, his nicker catching Benjamin unaware.

‘‘Now, ain’t this a purty sight.’’ Tommy Joe Jones stepped from behind a tree, his rifle at the ready. A slouch hat shaded a face that might have been handsome had it not been mashed so many times by fists and even cut by a knife. To Jesselynn he was ugly as sin and ten times meaner, inside and out.

His laugh sent fear stampeding up Jesselynn’s back. ‘‘What are you doing here?’’

CHAPTER
S
IX

‘‘Why, we was just stoppin’ fer a drink, same as you.’’

‘‘We?’’ Anything to buy time.

‘‘Oh, me’n my purty little wife.’’

The slitting of Tommy Joe’s eyes told her much about his feelings for his ‘‘purty little wife.’’ The way he knocked her around, she’d long before lost her ‘‘purtiness’’ to his heavy fists.

‘‘No hope, I suppose, that your brother’s dead?’’

‘‘Nope, none.’’

The leer he gave her sent more chills racing up Jesselynn’s spine. While she had a pistol stuck in the waistband of her pants, reaching for it would be sure death. Without moving her head, she glanced sideways to see what Benjamin was doing. He had a rifle on the other side of his horse if he could get to it.

‘‘Well,
Mr.
Jones, if you’re lookin’ for a drink, I’ll move out of your way. Plenty of water here for everyone.’’ She took a step toward the bank, but the end of the rifle now pointed directly at her.

‘‘No, you don’t.’’ He stepped out farther and leveled the rifle, the grin on his lips nowhere near matching the flames in his eyes. ‘‘Take yer hat off.’’

‘‘My hat?’’

‘‘You heerd me. Don’t ya understand English? Take yer hat off—now!’’

Jesselynn did as he asked, clutching the worn brim at her side.

‘‘Ah, your hair, it’s done growd some. Bet you was real purty afore you cut it all off.’’

Jesselynn narrowed her eyes, staring directly into his. Even across the distance she could see the spittle gathering at the corner of his mouth.
Oh, dear God, I’m in real trouble now. He knows I’m a woman, and he has just one use for women, other than knocking them around. Any time you want to send some angels in would be fine with me
. ‘‘How’s that leg doing that I bound up for you?’’ The two Jones brothers had gotten into a shooting argument, and much to her disgust, she’d been on hand to patch them up.

‘‘Good as new. Got a little somethin’ else you can do fer me now, though. Take yer shirt off.’’

‘‘Sorry, can’t do that. Wouldn’t be at all proper.’’ Keeping her lips or any other part of herself from quivering took intense concentration. If those angels didn’t show up, she’d need every bit of backbone she’d ever had.

He stepped forward. ‘‘I said, take yer shirt off—now!’’

‘‘Now, Tommy Joe, you know what your mama would say about such goings on.’’

‘‘My mama is long gone, and even if she was right here, I knowed how to handle Mama.’’ He waved the rifle. ‘‘Yer shirt.’’

In looking down to the buttons, Jesselynn glanced at Benjamin from under her lashes. He needed more time too. With shaking fingers she pulled her shirt out of her pants and freed the lowest button. Raising her head to stare at Jones with all the venom she could muster, she let her shirttails flap.

He licked his lips.

She slowly pushed the next button back through the fabric and, with fingers curled under the edges, held the shirtfronts apart so he could see her waistband. As she revealed the front, the gun at her back felt heavier.

‘‘You’re going to regret this.’’ She kept her voice conversational while her fingers fussed with the third button.
Lord, if not angels, would you send Wolf? Please, I want to see him again
.

‘‘Sure, who’s goin’ ter make me? You?’’ His laugh made the rifle bounce.

She shuddered. His finger had been so close to the trigger, he could have fired accidentally.

‘‘You mind if I get a drink? I’m powerful thirsty.’’

He wavered. ‘‘I guess that won’t hurt nothin’. Just make our little game last longer, that’s all.’’ He motioned with his head. ‘‘Drink away.’’

Jesselynn leaned forward to scoop water up in her hand. The other still held her hat. Could she shield her arm with her hat and retrieve her pistol? She dipped another handful and let some run down the front of her shirt.

Tommy Joe Jones stared at her, took two steps forward, his gaze burning into her shirtfront.

She sighed, an audible sigh that carried directly to his ears. ‘‘Ah, this water is so fine. Nothing quenches one’s thirst like a clear flowing stream on a hot day.’’ When she stood, she drank again and patted her cheeks with her wet hand. ‘‘Aren’t you thirsty, Tommy Joe Jones?’’ Her voice carried a lilt put there by sheer desperation. Never in her life had she behaved like this, but if wanton would save their lives, wanton she could act.
Come on, Benjamin, get the gun
.

Keeping her gaze on the man with the rifle, she undid the next button, one to go. If she weren’t wearing the strips she used to bind her breasts, he’d be staring at bare flesh. The thought alone made her skin tighten. Surely maggots crawling on her body couldn’t feel any worse.

Tommy Joe took another step forward. The gun barrel pointed toward the ground.

‘‘Ah, this water feels so good. You ever learned to swim, Tommy Joe?’’

Another step. Benjamin took two and disappeared behind Domino.

She arched her back.
Lord, forgive me if actin’ this way is against any of your commandments. It’s not me doin’ the lustin’ here
. She splashed one hand in the water. The gun, if only she could get to her gun.

‘‘Take it off!’’ He hawked and spat, his eyes never leaving her chest.

Jesselynn slid the final button through its hole and with both hands keeping the shirt closed, lifted the front of her shirt so that it fell back, revealing her shoulders.

Tommy Joe Jones took one more step forward. He never saw the brown arm that threw the knife, hitting him right between the shoulder blades. ‘‘
Arrrg
.’’ His groan strangled in his throat as he pitched forward face first into the water. The barrel of his rifle smacked the edge of the stream, sending up a small spurt.

Benjamin slowly waded into the water and lifted Tommy Joe. ‘‘He be dead.’’

‘‘It couldn’t be helped, Benjamin. You had no choice. God knows.’’ Jesselynn’s hand shook a bit as she pulled her shirt back into place. Stuffing it in her waistband, she strode out of the creek. ‘‘I’ll water the horses while you pull him back in the brush, and let’s get out of here before his brother comes looking for him.’’ While it seemed like hours since Tommy Joe Jones strolled back into their lives, she knew it had been only a matter of minutes.

Keeping her gun at the ready, she led the horses to the water. After staring across the creek for a few seconds, Ahab dropped his head and drank. Jesselynn breathed a sigh of relief. But how had the man gotten that close to them without her watchdog, or watchhorse in his case, letting them know? Unless he’d already been there and was downwind so Ahab didn’t smell him.

She looked up to see Benjamin with a leafy branch brushing out the tracks the dragging heels had caused. He reset a stone that had been turned over and, standing, looked back to check his handiwork.