by Benton, Lori
Jesse was halfway up the slope before Tamsen unfroze in a shattering of comprehension. Leaving the dead goose on the ground, she hurtled after him. Ahead she saw Seth Trimble hesitate, seeming torn between racing for his horse and meeting Jesse head on. When Jesse was nearly upon him, he broke and ran for the stable.
Jesse let him go, disappearing around the cabin.
Thunder grumbled, louder now, reverberating in her bones. A raindrop pelted her scalp. Then another. Sounds of struggle met her in the yard. A shout. A hollow thud as of something hitting the log wall. Then Jesse staggered around the side of the cabin, half-dragging Dominic Trimble, and she saw in Jesse’s face what must have sent Seth running—the warrior Jesse might have been, furious and implacable.
She didn’t wait to see more but ducked around the cabin on the opposite side. Bethany Allard lay sprawled on the ground by the woodpile, petticoat and blond hair awry. “Bethany!”
The girl’s mouth hung open, spilling drool and blood down a smear of dirt, as though her face had been shoved into the ground. She was bloodless save for that torn lip and a red patch across a cheekbone swelling up to close one blue eye.
“It’s all right now. Jesse’s got hold of him.” The girl was shaking as Tamsen got her to her feet. Rain pelted down, hard fat drops that struck the yard in dusty spurts. They rounded the cabin to the thud of fists on flesh. Dominic was fighting back, blinking away blood from a cut through one eyebrow, hurling every foul name she’d ever heard at Jesse, who ducked and struck in focused silence.
Bethany leaned on Tamsen, limping toward the cabin door. Dominic saw her. Worse expletives spilled from his mouth until a roll of thunder, and Jesse’s fist, silenced them. The blow landed under Dominic’s jaw, jarring his head back with the click of teeth. The man went to his knees.
Jesse glanced her way. “Take her inside!”
In that instant of distraction, Dominic launched off the ground with a snarl. Caught in the chest by Dominic’s shoulder, Jesse staggered back but didn’t fall.
Tamsen pushed Bethany through the door while behind her the combatants grunted under another exchange of blows, breath coming hard. A shout of satisfaction rose.
On the threshold Tamsen spun, dreading what she’d see. In those seconds her back was turned, Dominic had gotten hold of Jesse’s knife, the long hunting blade he wore at his belt, and sprung away with it. Where Jesse’s rifle had gone she didn’t know. He pulled free his hatchet and beckoned, grinning with a fierceness that jolted fear and admiration through her.
Movement in the distance caught her eye. It was a horseman, down at the base of the slope, halted at the very spot she’d left the goose lying. A horseman with a rifle raised, trained on the cabin yard. Had Seth not ridden away as she’d assumed, but only to where he could get a shot at Jesse? They were rain soaked now, Jesse and Dominic. Hair plastered. Faces streaming. Their feet had churned the earth to mud.
Tamsen opened her mouth to scream a warning when she recognized the horse. It was Cade across the empty field, leveling his rifle. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled a second before gunfire cracked.
Bethany was frantic. “Who was shot? Who?”
Tamsen had gotten the girl to the back room. Bethany sat clutching a blanket to herself while Tamsen dipped a rag in the water basin on the tick beside them and, by the light coming through the open door, tried to clean the blood and dirt from her chin. “No one was shot. Cade fired a warning to run Dominic off. It worked.”
Bethany’s eyes welled. She winced as the tears stung the darkening weal across her cheekbone. The eye above was swollen half shut, but the other held enough pain and humiliation for two. “Why’d you have to be so nice?”
Tamsen’s hands stilled. Then, smiling sadly, she went back to cleaning the girl’s face, careful of her wounds. “When I needed it, someone was kind to me.”
Bethany’s lashes lowered. “Jesse?”
“Yes.”
A shudder went through the girl. Her shoulders curled inward. “I’m sorry.”
Tamsen poised the rag again. “Why are you sorry?”
“You were right about me. I tried so hard to hate you, to make you look small in Jesse’s eyes. I am sorry. I know I said it weeks ago, but I mean it now.”
At the mention of Jesse, Tamsen closed her eyes, yearning to be near him, to see to his injuries, or relieve herself if they were only minor. She sent half her attention back through the cabin, out to where he and Cade stood under the eave, sheltered from the rain, talking in low tones. Giving her and Bethany privacy. Was Cade explaining his long absence? Or were they discussing the Trimbles and what had just happened? A violation of Bethany, but also this cabin. This home. Her home.
She let that notion wrap itself around her heart.
“I know,” she said. Bethany looked at her, uncertain. “How about we put that behind us and start fresh?” It mightn’t have been the best way to phrase the question. Bethany started crying again.
“Did he rape you?” Tamsen asked softly.
Bethany made a face, like she might be sick. Tamsen put a hand to the basin, ready for it, but the girl firmed her broken mouth. “Jesse got him off me in time.” She shot a glance at the door. “I don’t want to see him.”
“Who?” Did she think Dominic was out there still? He was long gone, bloodied and battered and cursing Jesse all the way, while Cade, still down the slope on his horse, kept that rifle trained until he’d mounted his horse and ridden after his brother. “Who don’t you want to see?”
“Jesse.”
The whispered answer surprised Tamsen. “All right. I’ll help get you home.”
Bethany shook her head. “Pa’s away hunting, but I don’t want to see Mama either. I just want to die!” She ended in a wail, and Tamsen didn’t know what to do except take the girl in her arms and cry with her, thinking of a mountain clearing and an unbearable weight of grief, and a young man with his head on his knees praying over what to do for her.
She let Bethany sniffle and cry into her hair until the girl was done, then asked, “Do you want to stay here in this room with me tonight?”
“Could I?” It came out a little sob.
Tamsen stroked the sleek blond hair she’d helped brush into order. “Of course. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll bring you in some supper later. Jesse shot a goose today.”
“And rescued another.” Bethany pulled away, hands falling into her lap to twist the blanket. “I came here thinking to see if … Oh, I don’t even remember now what I had in mind, but there they were, those two, riding up the creek trail. Should’ve turned around and gone back home the second I saw them, but I thought … Jesse might be jealous if he found me here with them flirting … I been so stupid. He’ll always be faithful to you.”
Tamsen’s mouth fell open … and just in time she remembered. Bethany didn’t know the truth.
He’ll always be faithful …
She managed a smile for the girl. The very worst hadn’t happened; they could be thankful for that. But when Tate Allard saw his daughter’s face, worse might yet come of it.
Bethany seemed to be listening to the low murmurs drifting through the darkening cabin. “Cade’s back. That’s good, right? Y’all been worried about him.”
“Yes, we have been.” Tamsen had crossed the mountains to escape one encompassing worry but seemed to have gained a whole new set besides. Jesse had gotten himself wound around her heart so tight that she didn’t know where her concerns ended and his began. Maybe they were one and the same now. But were the two of them twice as burdened, or twice as strong to face it all?
“I should go speak to them. Let them know you’re staying. Will you be all right if I leave you for a bit?”
Bethany lay down on the tick, pulling the blanket across herself. “All right. Just don’t shut the door.”
Cade was changed. Something in his spirit was lighter, though he’d avoided explaining where on earth he’d been so many days. He’d stabled his horse, un
loaded a pack of fresh hides—proof he’d spent at least part of the time hunting—and was leaning now in the cabin doorway while the rain tapered off in the yard and dusk crept up from the creek.
Jesse leaned opposite, watching the clouded night steal in, glancing aside at his pa as their conversation drifted along. Even the scene he’d come home to hadn’t ruffled Cade, once he knew Jesse and Bethany hadn’t come to any lasting hurt. Jesse’s jaw was bruised. He’d be sporting a black eye for White Shell’s wedding. But he’d given worse than he’d got.
“Thanks for bringing that goose up.” He nodded at it lying against the doorstep. “I best get to plucking it. Tamsen will want to get it over the fire.”
Cade’s brows rose. “Her cooking’s improved, I take it?”
“Practice makes perfect,” Tamsen said close behind them. “Tolerable, anyway.”
Jesse turned to see her standing in the fire’s light, hair down and shadowing her shoulders, brow furrowed as she took in his face.
“Jesse …” She lifted a hand to his temple and stroked down along the side of his face to his jaw, where Dominic’s fist had caught him hard.
The touch left him breathless. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze, feeling Cade’s eyes on him as he forced himself to let her go and step back. “Looks worse than it is. How’s Beth?”
“She wants to stay here tonight. I told her she could.”
“Doesn’t she want to be home?”
“I think …” Tamsen lowered her voice, glancing shyly at Cade. “She’s not ready to face anyone just yet. She’ll go home tomorrow.”
“I’ll head over,” Cade said. “Tell Janet what happened. She’ll be worried Beth’s not come home.”
“Thanks, Pa.”
“Yes,” Tamsen said. “Thank you. Will you tell Janet I’m looking after Bethany and to come over in the morning when she can? And Cade … it’s good to see you. I’m very thankful for your timely return.”
Cade pushed off the doorframe, holding her gaze. Tamsen met it, though Jesse read uncertainty in her eyes. Cade looked down at her, and for the first time Jesse could ever recall, smiled at her. “You look well. Better than he does,” he added, with a teasing nod at Jesse.
Tamsen’s face fell blank, then slowly her mouth curved in an answering smile so full and sweet Jesse’s whole body responded in a riot of longing he could barely restrain.
One smile from her had him more rattled than an all-out brawl with Dominic Trimble.
“At my best she does, Pa. Go on over the ridge. We’ll talk more later.” He spoke lightly enough, but he was thinking Cade had got himself home just in time to save him utterly failing to keep that vow he’d made to their preacher.
Jesse watched him go through the tapering-off rain. The storm had been brief, violent, but the earth was giving back its cool breath in a mist gathering along the creek, the smell of soaking leaves. Night coming down. The peace flooding over him now made what happened in the dooryard scarce an hour since seem hard to credit, were it not for his throbbing face and half a dozen other aches taken limb to limb.
“Jesse?”
He looked at Tamsen, taking in her tired eyes, her worried brow. “She really all right? He didn’t …”
She shook her head. “She’s upset and hurt, all the same.” Her lower lip quivered, and the distress that wracked her face cut him to the soul.
“Are you all right?” he asked her, but even as he was speaking, she’d walked straight into his arms, wrapped hers around his waist, still wet from the rain, and heaved a sob against his chest. He swallowed back a groan and stroked her hair, whispered her name, but didn’t try to stop her crying.
Finally she said into his chest, “Was it our fault?”
He leaned back, sliding his hands around to cradle her face. “What?”
She didn’t lift her gaze. “She’s been flirting with Dominic trying to make you jealous.”
He pressed her head against his chest, where it rested as snug as if she’d been made to put it there. “She may be young, but Beth’s old enough to be accountable for her actions.”
He felt her heave a sigh against him and held her tighter.
“Lord,” he said, and it was a prayer. “I’m sorry as I can be this happened, and we’re asking You to set it right. Protect that girl in there and heal her, body and soul.” Protect this woman in my arms, he added silently. “Amen.”
“Amen,” she said and pulled back, but not far, still touching him. “Thank you, Jesse.”
He wanted badly to go on holding her, but he put her from him gently, firmly, worried she’d think he was trying to take advantage. Worried he might do so. It was near dark now, the only light that from the cabin spilling out. No stars. No moon.
She looked at him, eyes dark and fathomless as the heavens. “It was One Thousand and One Nights.”
He stared, understanding the words plain but finding no context for them. He opened his mouth to say something full of brains and dazzle like “Huh?” but she’d already read his confusion.
“That’s the first book ever read to me,” she said. “You asked, remember? I used to pretend that Mama was Scheherazade.”
A venison ham roasted on the spit. Tamsen, seated on a bench drawn near, kept a close eye on it. The other eye was on the cloak spread across her lap. It was uncomfortably warm thus, but soon enough she would appreciate the rabbit fur lining she was stitching to the garment’s inner side.
Jesse had given her the pelts. In the morning, he and Cade were leaving for Chota. They were gone now to the Allards’, taking the extra horses and the cow to stable. Tate was back home and promising to stay close while Cade and Jesse were away. He’d spent the past two days hunting the Trimbles, who’d abandoned their cabin near Sycamore Shoals and lit out for parts unknown, no doubt anticipating his wrath.
Alone with the door open, Tamsen glanced with longing at the sunlight streaming in. It would be easier to see her work outside, but she was determined not to budge from the hearth and risk burning the last meal she would make for Jesse. At least for a fortnight.
Holding up the cloak to the firelight, she examined her work with satisfaction. If not for variations in the small pelts, it would have appeared a solid fur.
She’d begun the task after supper the previous night. With Jesse out tending stock, it had been the first time she and Cade were alone in the cabin since his return. He’d sat at the table, rifle across his knees, cleaning the weapon with a rag and grease, pausing now and then to peer through the spectacles set across the bridge of his nose at the Bible open on the boards, illumined by taper-light.
Despite the spectacles, she’d had to remind herself that Cade was only half Delaware. Apart from his eyes, his white blood hardly showed. At least to her, who’d never seen a full-blooded Indian that she could recall. Surely such a one couldn’t look more fierce than Cade. She’d dropped her gaze to her sewing, wondering what he thought of her now. Was he resigned to her presence?
“Jesse tells me you’ve a keen eye.”
She’d jerked her gaze up to find Cade no longer attending to rifle or Bible but to her. She glanced quickly at the pistol on the table, waiting its turn with rag and grease. “So he tells me too.”
Cade studied her in silence, then said, “When Thunder-Going asked us to come to Chota, none of us knew our paths would cross with yours. If it troubles you to be parted from Jesse, I’ll go alone.”
With all her heart she wanted that. “I don’t want that,” she said. “I’m fine staying with the Allards for a spell.”
They’d talked about it, she and Jesse. Cade, he’d told her, had been in Sycamore Shoals before coming home. There’d been no fresh word of an eastern merchant searching for an abducted stepdaughter. Winter wasn’t far off. Soon snow would seal off the mountains, sundering east from west, making travel between a hardship she doubted her stepfather would risk. Dared she hope that he’d returned to Charlotte Town … that he’d never find her … that he’d never seek t
o harm Jesse for helping her escape?
If only there was something she could do to lift this burden of not knowing.
The crinkle of turning pages joined the fire’s fluttering. Just when she’d thought Cade had gone back to reading, he’d spoken again. “I’ve something to say to you. Will you hear it?”
She looked up to find him waiting for her response. Warily she nodded. To her surprise Cade put aside his rifle, wiped his hands on a rag and took the Bible onto his lap.
“Teach me thy way, O LORD,” he read, “and lead me in a plain path, because of mine enemies. Deliver me not over unto the will of mine enemies: for false witnesses are risen up against me, and such as breathe out cruelty. I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the LORD in the land of living. Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the LORD.”
Cade raised his face, and the gentleness in his eyes was that of a father, meant for her. It brought her to the swift brink of tears. Wait on the Lord, be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart. Wait …
Wait and do nothing? She blinked back the tears, searching for words to ask what had prompted him to read that passage. Jesse’s presence didn’t register until he spoke.
“Tamsen? You all right?” He stood in the doorway, head bared, brow furrowed.
She sprang to her feet, wanting to go to him, hold him, beg him to stay with her, but she’d just told Cade she was fine with his going.
“I’m fine,” she’d blurted, and because she wasn’t, and couldn’t hide it, she’d taken the unfinished cloak to her room.
Now, as the venison juices sizzled on the embers, she tied off the final stitches of the lining, while her heart ached with wishing she’d been courageous like the passage admonished. In the morning Jesse would leave, and she vowed she wouldn’t cry again. At least, she amended, wiping at a defiant tear, she wouldn’t be found crying.
She almost missed the scurry of movement at the edge of the sunlight streaming through the open door. When she saw what made it, she forgot the venison. Forgot Jesse’s leaving and Cade’s surprising tenderness and the cloak she’d spent hours lining.