A Restless Wind

by Brandt, Siara

  Pierce Champlin held a chair out for Hetty. Pierce had worked at the Circle I since he was nine years old. He was different from the other cowboys. He had come to the ranch, an orphan like her and Uncle Zeb had given him first a home and then a job. At first Pierce did chores around the ranch house. And then, being around the other men all the time, he quickly learned to rope and ride and was now the best hand they had.

  But Pierce was more than just a ranch hand. Aunt Isabel had taken Pierce under her wing from the beginning. She had never had children of her own but she was a generous woman with a warm and loving disposition. She had come from Boston before she had met Zebadiah. She had been a well-educated woman and believed so strongly in the importance of an education that when Pierce had shown an interest in books, she had schooled him along with Hetty.

  Many cold winter days and nights, when the ranch work slowed down, Pierce and Hetty would sit here at the kitchen table, with the pleasant warmth of the stove and the irresistible smells of Aunt Isabel’s baking filling the room as she listened to them read.

  The men stood, waiting while Hetty and Lieta seated themselves and then everyone took their places at the table. Zebadiah, sitting at the head of the table, scowled as he shook his head. “Things have gone from bad to worse. Women and children disappearing from their homes. Good men shot down and beaten- ” He gave them all a meaningful look and said grimly, “You saw John Forbes’ face.”

  Delia turned from the stove and brought a towering stack of steaming hotcakes to the table. She wiped her hands on her apron, then sat down beside her brother and joined the conversation.

  “The cowards,” Delia remarked in a low voice as she unfolded her napkin. “I suppose they feel they have done a very brave thing frightening women and children in the middle of the night. Zeb, isn’t there any local law out here that you can turn to?”

  “Law!” Zeb exclaimed derisively as he passed a plate heaped high with biscuits to his right. “Hell, no!”

  “Zeb,” his sister gently remonstrated, reminding him not to use profanity at the table.

  “Pardon me, ladies,” Zeb apologized. “Our local sheriff,” he went on as he generously buttered his stack of hotcakes. “Doesn’t amount to a hill of beans. How he got into office in the first place remains a mystery to me. A lot of the ranchers around here have had run-ins with him. Including me. No,” he declared as he reached for the tin of maple syrup. “The law failed John Forbes. Just like it failed Sara Cade and her daughter.”

  “Well, I think it’s just dreadful,” Delia said with a shake of her head.

  “I hope this isn’t spoiling your visit,” Zeb said with a glance at his sister. He shifted his gaze to Lieta. “We sure couldn’t anticipate any of this happening.”

  “Goodness, no, Zeb,” Delia replied. “We’re glad to be of help. Besides, we can honestly say that there hasn’t been a dull moment since we arrived.”

  Across the table, Lieta touched her napkin to her lips and agreed. “That’s true. It is a decided change from Boston.

  “What a frightening experience for you, Hetty,” Lieta said, turning her head with a little toss of her curls. “Imagine riding out alone in the dark of night and out there, too, are men who intended- why, heaven knows what might have happened. I know I should have been terrified.”

  At Hetty’s side, Pierce said with a laugh. “Not your usual night in Boston, I’ll wager.”

  “Not our usual night, no,” Lieta agreed. “Women have a great deal more freedom out here.”

  “Well, it used to be safe enough riding alone,” Pierce spoke up beside Hetty. “There never was any trouble before. And Hetty rides like an Indian. Been riding since before she could even reach the stirrups. She could probably outride most of the men working here at the ranch.”

  “Indeed.” Lieta fixed Hetty with another innocent stare. “How fortunate that you and Mr. McLaren happened to meet at the cabin at the very same time.”

  “Yes.” Hetty said. “We were all very fortunate.”

  “Of course you were.” Lieta turned to Jesse seated beside her. “There were three of the villains, Mr. McLaren?” she wanted to know.

  A nod was her answer.

  “And you single-handedly fended them off?”

  “I wouldn’t exactly say I fended them off, ma’am. They rode off by themselves.”

  In a voice that was just a little bit husky, Lieta said, “I think you are being very modest, Mr. McLaren.”

  Lieta was no doubt recalling the conversation the other day in the parlor about Jesse McLaren. She obviously found the man more than a little interesting. Hetty had caught Lieta stealing glances at him all morning.

  Of course women would find him interesting, Hetty thought. Not only his reputation, but his good looks ensured it. Hetty could well imagine Amiline Marsten’s face if she could see Jesse McLaren sitting here at her kitchen table eating breakfast. And Adalia Sweet would have been horrified. But Lieta, certainly, found it a novel experience to be having breakfast with an outlaw.

  And Jesse did seem the perfect outlaw. With his black hair, worn longer than would be considered proper back East, and the dark beard shadow emphasizing his very masculine jaw, he did appear more than a little wild, decidedly dangerous and, she admitted secretly to herself, compellingly handsome.

  While it was true that Jesse was different than the usual men Lieta encountered in the East, there was something else about him that made him stand out from other men even here. It was something she could not define and yet, if she were to be honest with herself, that undefinable male essence was so strong that Hetty found herself drawn to it just as Lieta was.

  In fact, for Hetty there was a completely unsettling awareness of everything about Jesse McLaren. There was good reason for that, of course. She hadn’t forgotten what had happened between them in the cabin last night. If it affected him at all, so far he had been very successful at concealing it. As for Hetty, she had to make an effort to not think about how he had thrown her down on that bed. But the man himself was a constant reminder.

  Strength was manifest in the wide shoulders under the blue shirt he wore. It was evident in the strong hand resting on the table. She tried not to relive the feel of his hands on her wrists and on her mouth as he had held her down. But an image of their struggle on the narrow bed came to her all the same. As did the memory of the hard, unyielding pressure of his body on top of hers.

  Which brought to mind the completely unbidden thought of that other time, when he had kissed her, and how the hand resting on the table had touched her face with a gentleness completely at odds with the unrestrained passion that had been at the core of that kiss.

  She tried not to let herself remember because just thinking about it caused a strange commotion deep inside her. She carefully steadied her breath and watched as Delia got up from the table and came back with the pot of coffee.

  “No, thank you, ma’am.”

  At the sound of the deep masculine voice, Hetty’s gaze was helplessly drawn back to the man. For a fleeting moment his glance rested on her, but she could not fathom the thoughts hidden behind those clear gray eyes. She moistened her lips, willing her heart to slow its erratic pace while Delia re-filled Uncle Zeb’s cup. She forced herself to focus on the conversation around the table.

  Across the table, Jesse’s gaze settled on Hetty’s mouth, on the almost sinfully passionate full lips moistened by her tongue. He was surprised at his body’s very definite reaction to the innocent gesture. This was hardly the place for him to be distracted by the kinds of thought he was having at the moment.

  The truth was, however, that in Hetty Parrish’s presence, Jesse always found himself feeling very much distracted. He hadn’t kissed her last night. But he’d wanted to. He had sure thought about it enough. He was thinking about it now. If ever a man had an opportunity to steal a kiss, rolling around on that bed with her last night had afforded all the opportunity in the world.

  He forced himself to listen to th
e Eastern woman at his side. She was saying something about “unbridled lawlessness” and men who were hors la loi, whatever the hell that meant.

  “You’re right,” Zebadiah was agreeing with her. “They see something they want, they ride right in and take it.”

  Jesse looked over at the young cowboy they called Pierce.

  “That’s right,” Pierce said as he settled back in his chair. “What I don’t understand is how they know so much about us. They seem to know all our comings and goings. They know when to hit us. By the time we’re aware of what they’re up to, they’re gone, disappearing into the hills like they never existed. As much as we take precautions, they still manage to stay one step ahead of us.”

  Zeb nodded. “I lost about forty head of cattle two nights ago. And Layne Chesmore has lost most of his stock. That wasn’t’ enough though. Chesmore’s herd of horses has also become a target of the thieves. He’s been nearly cleaned out.”

  “Sounds like they’re well organized,” Jesse commented.

  “I’ll agree with you there,” Pierce said, leaning forward. “It’s been my opinion all along.”

  “And mine,” Zeb spoke up across the table. “That’s why we need to be together on this. I have tried to organize the other ranchers. Brent Marsten is of the same mind. He’s had more groups of men out combing the hills for the ruffians than that worthless cur of a sheriff. Not that it does a bit of good. They always come back empty handed. It’s frustrating as hell. And now the damned thieves seem to be acquiring a taste for blood,” he said soberly.

  “It was a terrible thing for those children to have seen their father in that condition,” Delia said beside him.

  “Yes, it was, Delia,” Zebadiah agreed as he threw his napkin on the table. “If people weren’t nervous before, this will certainly get their attention. I won’t let any of my men ride out alone anymore.” He looked pointedly at Hetty. “No small groups either. And any group that does leave the ranch has strict orders to be heavily armed. Of course the ranch house will be guarded at all times.”

  Chapter 8

  When breakfast was over, the men went outside while Hetty helped Delia and Lieta clear the table. The children had already eaten their breakfast and when the dishes had been washed and put away, Hetty took a tray of food to the back bedroom.

  Rachel Forbes was still sitting on a chair at the head of the bed. Her gaze was on her husband’s face. Hetty was glad to see that he was asleep. Jesse’s opinion was that John Forbes had a good chance of recovering, but he already looked feverish and blood had soaked through the bandages.

  Rachel made a faint attempt at a smile and nodded her thanks as she accepted the food. Last night Hetty had been surprised at how young the Forbes both were. Rachel Forbes looked even younger in the morning light. Hetty returned a reassuring smile before she quietly left the room and closed the door softly behind her.

  Emma, the oldest of the Forbes children was a girl of about ten. She was blue-eyed and dark-haired a slender combination of grace and shy awkwardness that reminded Hetty of a Spring fawn.

  Hetty watched the girl through the kitchen window. Her patched and faded skirt fluttered around her ankles as she walked across the yard, leading her younger brother by the hand. Earlier, after feeding and rocking the baby to sleep, the girl had been in a restless, nervous state, wandering aimlessly from the kitchen to the back porch and outside and back to the kitchen again.

  In an effort to keep her mind off what had happened, Hetty had put Emma to work carrying linens and extra blankets upstairs. And then Hetty had sent Emma and her little brother out with a basket to gather the eggs from the hen house. The wire basket, filled with eggs, was setting on the kitchen table.

  Hetty stepped down into the back porch and set the basket of eggs on a shelf. Turning, she stopped short when she saw Jesse standing in the kitchen doorway.

  “I was just checking on our patient,” he said.

  She nodded, looking up at him, “How is he?”

  “He’s resting. It was a rough night for him. He’s in for another.”

  “Yes, he has a difficult time ahead of him,” Hetty agreed. “But he’s in good hands. My Aunt Delia knows a good deal about nursing. Her husband is a doctor in Boston.”

  Jesse nodded. “That explains why she wasn’t as flustered as I thought she ought to be.”

  In an attempt to think about anything but those eyes that Adalia Sweet had thought were too bold, Hetty untied her apron and carefully folded it,

  “Rachel asked me to bring some clothes for her children,” Jesse said. “I’ll be bringing them by tomorrow.”

  Hetty nodded. “She will need them,” she said as she set the folded apron on a shelf beside her. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, searching for something to say in the silence that followed. “I’ll see about having another bed set up downstairs for Rachel so she can get some rest.”

  “That’s a good idea. I imagine she won’t want to leave his side any more than she has to.”

  Jesse’s gaze swept over Hetty from the deep blue calico dress and the loosely gathered hair falling over one shoulder, to the stray wisps of curls that had escaped and were softly framing her face.

  She was beautiful. He had always thought so. The yellow glow of morning sunlight was upon her, picking up the gold in her hair. He didn’t reach out and touch one wayward, sun-lit curl to brush it back from her cheek, but the urge to do so was there all the same, surprising him. Wondering what would prompt such a foolish move on his part, his gaze dropped to her soft, full mouth, recalling once again how it had been to kiss her.

  Damn. Why’d he keep remembering that?

  He frowned, dragging his gaze away from her mouth.

  “I have something to give you,” she said abruptly and turned her back to him.

  He watched her stand on her toes to reach up to one of the shelves above her. When she turned, she had an envelope in her hand. She held it out to him.

  “I found this at Sara Cade’s cabin a few days ago.”

  He stepped down to the back porch. When he reached out to take the envelope from her hand, his fingers brushed hers. Hetty resisted the impulse to jerk her hand back. There was no reason whatsoever for her breath to catch in her chest the way it had. No reason at all for the jolt of awareness that had sizzled along every nerve at his touch. Her gaze went to his face to see if he had noticed that awareness.

  Thankfully he hadn’t. He was frowning down at the envelope in his hand. He didn’t open it. As his gaze shifted back to her face, he merely slipped the envelope into his shirt pocket.

  He obviously didn’t intend to discuss the contents of the envelope with her. And she had no intention of prying. She was curious, however. More than curious as to why Sara would leave something behind for Jesse McLaren.

  Just like she found herself wondering why he had returned after being away for two years. She recalled him telling those men last night that he would be staying at the cabin. She didn’t know if that meant he was staying for good. And what about the Forbes? Everyone had agreed that the family would be staying here for a while. But what about after that? What was going to happen to them then?

  At present her unasked questions would have to remain unanswered. Jesse stepped across the porch and walked to the back door. He rested a forearm on the door frame and looked out at the back yard, leaving Hetty to stare at the way his shirt stretched across the muscles of his broad shoulders and the contrast of black hair against the blue shirt. It was easier by far, she realized, to be in his presence when he wasn’t looking at her.

  She told herself that she had good reason to feel flustered in his presence. Their acquaintance so far had been anything but conventional. The two times they had been alone together had been improper to say the least. The first time he had kissed her. Quite thoroughly. The second time he had thrown her down on a bed and held her beneath him as if she were a saloon girl.

  She felt a warmth surge into her cheeks when she recalle
d last night when no corset and no petticoats had been between them. It was too easy to recall the feeling of her breasts pressed against his powerful chest and the intimate feel of his thighs holding hers down. She also found herself remembering the feather-soft brush of his hair against her cheek and the male scent of him surrounding her as she heard his voice and realized who he was.

  Jesse concentrated on what was going on in the back yard. He was glad for the distraction. He didn’t need to be thinking about the effect that accidentally touching Hetty’s hand had had upon him. He’d come to the house not only to see how John Forbes was getting on, but to try and get that envelope from Hetty if possible.

  He’d seen John Forbes. He had the envelope. But somehow he was reluctant to leave. And he realized it was because of Hetty. Her nearness was having an effect on him. Too much of an effect.

  He glanced over at her as she stepped beside him to the little window beside the door and moved the curtains aside as she also peered out into the yard. Her scent, as sweet and delicate as a meadow full of elderberry flowers, wrapped itself around him. It was the same scent that had been so intoxicating to him last night. With an effort he tore his gaze away from her.

  “You’ll be having a full house here,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said. “But we’ll make room. The children can sleep upstairs with me.” After a silence, she said, “I wonder what they are doing now?”

  From the door he could see beyond the lilac bushes that were keeping the children from her view.

  “Playing by the creek,” was his reply.

  Hetty slanted a glance up at him. She thought she had detected amusement in his voice. In the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees outside the porch, she saw one corner of his mouth curve upward, deepening the very male, very appealing groove in his cheek.

  That smile had a strange effect on her, as did his low, husky laugh as he continued to watch something outside that she couldn’t see.

  He looked back at her. With the smile lingering and one dark brow raised, he asked, “You ready to go fishing?”