“If men are that close, why haven’t they already rounded these cattle up and claimed them?”
“Because, Jessye love, not every man is willing to risk everything when there is a chance he will gain nothing. Look at the men of Fortune. We offered them this opportunity, and they turned it down, preferring to pick cotton.” He urged his horse forward. “Come along. Let’s ease your mind.”
Nudging her horse to follow, she wondered why she felt that Harry was somehow cheating.
*
For the first time, Jessye wished that she’d brought a dress. A foolish thought, when the town was mostly populated with men. She and Harry sat at a corner table in a log cabin saloon that made her father’s place look grand.
They had taken advantage of the bathhouse next door. Her clothes were clean and pressed, but they were the clothes of a man, and she knew deep in her heart that it was for the best. Still, she wished she had something pretty to wear, even if it was nothing more than a colored ribbon.
Harry, on the other hand, was dressed in a black waistcoat, a red brocade vest, a black cravat, and black britches that hugged his thighs. He had shaved and looked deliciously wicked. When he’d stepped out of the bathhouse, he’d literally stolen her breath, and she had yet to recover it.
Damn the scoundrel for distracting her when all her attention needed to remain focused on the men they were interviewing. A man approached the chair across from them, turned it, straddled it, and braced his forearms along its back. He was ruggedly handsome, with broad shoulders and the roughened hands of a man who worked outdoors. He slid his hat from his head and gave a slight nod. “Ma’am.”
She smiled softly. “I’m Jessye Kane. This is Harrison Bainbridge.”
His grin revealed a dimple in his left cheek. “Dan Lincoln, but I’m hoping you won’t hold the name against me.”
“We won’t, Mr. Lincoln,” Harry said before Jessye could respond. “Have you herded cattle before?”
Dan Lincoln shifted his gaze away from Jessye to Harry. “Yes, sir. Before the war, I herded cattle to San Francisco . During the war, herded ‘em east.”
Harry raised a brow. “So you were too cowardly to enlist?”
Jessye gasped. “Harry—”
“Confederate soldiers needed to eat,” Dan Lincoln cut in, his voice taut. “I saw to it that they did until July of ‘63 when Grant took Vicksburg . He sliced the Confederacy in half. That’s when I enlisted.”
“You took cattle across the Mississippi ?” Jessye asked.
Lincoln hesitated before gazing back at her. “Yes, ma’am.”
“That took a great deal of courage, Mr. Lincoln.”
“Yes, ma’am. Reckon it did. Many a man drowned in the Mississippi trying to get meat to the Confederacy. I dadgum guarantee you that I’m a strong swimmer.”
“That’s all well and good, Mr. Lincoln,” Harry said curtly, “but we don’t need swimmers. Thank you for your time, but we can’t use your services.”
Lincoln narrowed his eyes and started to rise. Jessye laid her hand over his forearm. The strength she felt there astounded her. “Please wait.” She turned her attention to Harry. “May I speak to you outside for a moment?”
Harry tugged on his brocade vest. “Certainly, Jessye love.”
Clenching her teeth to keep from mouthing her thoughts, she stood and strode from the saloon. She heard Harry’s footsteps following as she rounded the corner into the alley between the saloon and the bathhouse. She swung around and faced him. “What are you doing?”
“I am attempting to hire some men to help us herd the cattle to Fortune.”
“Why didn’t you hire Dan Lincoln?”
“I didn’t like the man.”
“Why? Because he smiled at me? Harry, the men who herded cattle to the army during the war were some of the bravest this state produced. He’s exactly the kind we need on this trek. You’ve talked to over a dozen men and you’ve hired two. One is old enough to be my grandpa—”
“He has experience.”
“And the other is as homely as a sack of potatoes.”
“I don’t think we should judge a man’s abilities based on his looks.”
“You’re right. You can’t turn a man away because he’s handsome, has a nice smile, or his gaze drops to my bosom!”
“His gaze did more than drop. It lingered!”
Jessye laughed. “You’re jealous.”
“I am not jealous.”
“Would you hire Dan Lincoln if I wasn’t here?”
He pressed his lips into an invisible line, his jaw tightly clenched.
“Would you hire him?”
“Yes, damn it, but you are here. I am simply trying to protect you from scoundrels. I know one when I see him.”
“So do I. You know I’m not innocent, Harry.”
“You’ve had experience with one man. That does not make you a woman of the world.”
“But it makes me a woman who knows the cost of lifting her skirts for a man. It’s a price I’m not willing to pay ever again—no matter how attractive the smile, no matter how long a man stares at my bosom.” She wrapped her hand around his arm. “Don’t you understand that I invested my money in this venture because it will guarantee me the independence I’ve never truly had? A woman of poverty has to say no a thousand times. A woman of wealth has to say no only once to be heard. We have to hire the best if we want to meet with success. I’ve known failure. I don’t care to repeat the experience.”
He cradled her cheek, his gaze sweeping over her face. “There are moments when I wish to God that I wasn’t a scoundrel. We shall hire whomever you want, and I shall kill anyone who harms you.”
She watched him stride back to the saloon. And damn the man. He carried a portion of her heart with him.
*
CHAPTER 7
« ^ »
A soft glow spilled into the night from the windows that circled the house. Harrison gave a hard knock on the door. It swung open, and he grinned at Grayson Rhodes. “Merry Christmas.”
Grayson took his hand and pulled him inside, into a large front room that smelled of cinnamon and apples. “You scoundrel, why didn’t you let us know you were coming?” He looked past Harrison , and his smile widened. “Jessye, come in.”
Harrison stepped aside so Jessye could enter.
Abbie rushed across the room and took Jessye within her arms. “You survived.”
Jessye laughed. “Barely.”
“Was it worth it?” Kit asked as he approached and handed them each a cup of warm apple cider.
Harrison dipped his head toward Jessye. “Tell him.”
She grinned like a child who had just discovered her Christmas stocking didn’t contain a lump of coal. “We just added a hundred and fifty head to the herd.”
“Do tell?”
She nodded. “And six men.”
“To the herd? How much do we get for them?”
Her face was aglow, her cheeks bright red. Harrison didn’t know if it was from the cold winds that had started to blow again or the excitement regarding their accomplishment. He only knew he wished he had the power to sustain the lust for life emanating through her at this moment. It was almost contagious, even for a soul as jaded as his.
“No, we hired six men. They’re outside—”
“Get them in here,” Grayson ordered. “It’s chilly out there.”
“We’re all a bit rank,” Harrison explained.
“What does that matter? It’s Christmas. Get them inside,” Grayson insisted.
“I’ll help ‘em with their horses,” Magpie said as he peered around Kit.
“Magpie!” Jessye cried. “I didn’t see you standing there.”
“Didn’t want to impose on the homecomin’.”
“Enjoy your holiday, lad?” Harrison asked.
“If only he’d taken a holiday,” Kit said. “Every day, he searches for stragglers and strays from dawn until dusk. He seems to have a nose for finding them.
”
“I just try to think like ‘em is all.”
“That’s what Harry does,” Jessye said, grinning. “That’s how we found so many.”
Harrison stifled a groan. He’d preferred for his method to remain a secret. “Why don’t you get warm while I get the men?”
He ordered the men to take the horses to the barn and tend to their needs before they came into the house. Introductions were made. Grayson and Abbie’s home was not large, but the main room was comforting. The candles flickering on the cedar tree in front of the window were responsible for the welcoming light he’d seen as they neared.
With the exception of Magpie, the men preferred quiet to gab. Jessye sat on the floor before the hearth, Abbie’s three children gathered around her as they proudly displayed the gifts they’d received for Christmas. Johnny was eight. He demonstrated a fishing pole that had a wooden contraption on it that allowed him to wind the string that held a hook at the end. Lydia , six, was placing a fabric doll in a wooden cradle. Micah, the youngest at five, was holding a wooden shield and blunt-tipped wooden sword.
“Care for something a bit stronger than apple cider?” Kit asked, extending a glass toward Harrison .
“Appreciate it.” He relished the sip of burning whiskey and tilted his head toward the children. “I didn’t think to bring gifts.”
“Not to worry. Your presence is gift enough.”
Harrison chuckled. “For you and Gray, perhaps, but not for the children. It suddenly dawned on me that this is our first Christmas away from England . I hadn’t expected to miss it.”
“Ah, yes. The grand halls, magnificent feasts, servants scurrying to answer our every beck and call, the pageantry. The hypocrisy of having so much and not appreciating any of it.”
“Is that why our fathers sent us here?”
“Perhaps. Do you know I think Gray made those toys?”
“You’re joking.”
“No, he has become quite the father. He adores those children. You would think they were his,” Kit said.
Harrison glanced across the room to the far corner, where Grayson talked with his wife. Her hand moved to her slightly rounded stomach as she smiled. His hand covered hers, and he brushed a kiss across her lips.
Harrison returned his attention to the people before the hearth. Jessye watched the exchange with longing in her eyes, similar to what he’d seen the night she’d delivered the baby. Micah, the youngest boy, shoved his shield in front of her face. She laughed and hugged him.
He wondered if she thought of her own child every time she hugged one who belonged to someone else.
“So how did things go between you and Jessye this past month?” Kit asked.
“Things went … not well enough.”
“Has she decided you deserve to be a full partner?”
Harrison sliced his gaze to Kit. “That arrangement does not bother me. Why in the bloody hell must it drive you to distraction?”
“Because you deserve better.”
“So does she. She’s a remarkable woman, Kit.”
“Have you fallen in love with her?”
“Don’t be an ass.”
Kit nodded with an irritating smirk and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are these all the men you hired?”
“Yes. That Dan Lincoln is a good man, a natural leader. I think he would make an excellent choice for trail boss.”
“I’ll trust your judgment on that. We have over nineteen hundred cattle. If we hire more men and continue to scour the countryside for the next two months, we should have an impressive herd to take north.”
“Impressive, yes.” Harrison studied the amber liquid in his glass. “Actually something did happen while we were away. Jessye delivered a baby.”
“Good God! She was with child? She didn’t look it.”
Harrison rolled his eyes. “No, you dolt. We came to a farm where a woman was in labor. Jessye helped deliver the baby.”
“Ah, well, that’s a different matter entirely, isn’t it?”
“Of course, it is. The dilemma, however, is that a bond developed between us that night that I can’t explain, a bond so strong that we’ve shared a bit of our pasts.”
“Danger lurks in secrets revealed.”
“Must you always be so damned philosophical? I’m trying to understand. All I know of love, I learned from you.”
“A shame, since my experience resulted in tragedy.”
“Still, I thought perhaps you could explain to me what I am unable to comprehend.”
“Love cannot be explained. It cannot be taught. It cannot even be understood, but when it touches you, when it takes hold of your heart and your soul … you are the better for it.” Kit’s gaze circled the room. “Perhaps you should try again to convince Jessye not to travel with us.”
“I could just as easily turn back the wind.”
Kit released a melancholy sigh. “You know, my trusted friend, it is not Jessye’s heart that concerns me, but yours. You have known the pain of hatred, but not the pain of love. It is far, far worse.”
“That’s just what I want to hear.”
“‘Tis better to be forewarned than to be caught unawares.”
*
CHAPTER 8
« ^ »
Spring 1866
A s dawn hovered beyond the horizon, Jessye stood and looked with pride at the herd she’d helped round up. With diligence and the additional men they’d hired after they’d returned to Fortune, they’d managed to increase the size of the herd considerably in the two months since Christmas.
She’d noticed, however, the way a few of the men studied her, and her confidence in her ability to handle them had faltered. She’d stuffed her hair beneath a beat-up broad-brimmed hat and wound strips of cloth around her chest until she was almost as flat as a flapjack.
The cattle would stretch out for miles, the men along with them. She closed her hand around the gun she wore strapped to her hip, although she knew in her heart that it was unlikely she’d find the courage to use it against a man—regardless of the circumstances.
She heard a horse whinny and spun around. She forced bravado into her smile as she faced Harry. “I can’t believe we’re finally ready to take them north.” His gaze slowly traveled from the brim of her hat to the toes of her boots. “Have you lost weight?”
The heat of embarrassment scalded her face. “No, I … I bound my…” She cleared her throat as his gaze captured hers. “I thought it best to remove temptation with so many men about.”
He gave a long, thoughtful nod. “Don’t suppose you’d reconsider the wisdom of staying.”
She shook her head briskly, her smile broadening. “Nope. I wanna be there when they tally the cattle and hand over the money.”
“We’d bring back your share of the money, Jessye.”
“I just want to be there to see it, Harry.”
He released a deep sigh. “Then mount up, Jessye love.”
She pulled herself into the saddle. “Who’s going to lead the herd?”
“Kit is the man with the details. He wants to have a few words with the men gathered at the supply wagon before we head out.”
Her heart swelled with self-satisfaction as she followed him. Half the cattle belonged to her. Half the profits would go into her pockets … along with an independence that no man could ever take from her.
The cool March air surrounded them, and she saw wisps of smoke curl in front of Harry’s face as he breathed. She knew in her heart that he was probably right. She should stay behind. What sort of investor was she not to trust her comrades?
One who had paid a dear price for betrayal.
As they neared the wagon, she saw the men mingling around, talking, waiting. None were mounted. It seemed odd to see the trail hands without horses beneath them. She noticed Kit standing near his bay gelding. Harry gave his friend a brisk nod as he drew his horse to a halt and dismounted. Jessye slipped her foot out of the stirrup.
Harr
y wrapped his hand around her ankle. “Stay where you are. Kit will join you.”
She watched him walk toward the other men, leading his horse behind him. The lonesome image he created surprised her.
Kit mounted his horse and guided it around to Jessye’s side. She’d never realized how small she was in comparison to him as he sat tall in the saddle. Even though Kit was beside her, Harry’s presence dominated the camp. He spoke not a word, but the men who had been mumbling fell into silence. Other men stopped fidgeting. Into the autocratic stillness, Kit finally spoke.
“We have close to three thousand head of cattle and a short span of time in which to move them to Sedalia , Missouri . The days will be long, the nights longer. My father taught me that a man was better able to meet his expectations when he knew what they were so here is what I expect: hard work, no grumbling, no cursing, no drinking. You men spent three months burning our brand into the hides of those cattle. A T that rests on top of an L. The Texas Lady. She’s traveling with us because she’s financing this venture. She’s your boss as much as I am. Her voice carries as much authority as mine. Display any disrespect toward her, and you’ll find yourself on a long walk back home with no coins jingling in your pockets. If you have any problems with my expectations, don’t bother to mount up.”
Silence grew thick until Harry swung up onto his saddle. Magpie quickly followed his example, then Dan Lincoln. One by one, the men mounted their horses.
Kit gave a brusque nod. “Gentlemen, let’s take these cattle to market.”
He started to guide his horse away. Reaching out, Jessye grabbed his arm. He glanced back at her.
She swallowed, her mouth dry, her heart pounding. “Thank you for that.”
“Don’t thank me. They were Harry’s words.”
*
Jessye walked through the camp, her muscles protesting. The first day of their journey had begun before dawn, and they’d continued moving until dusk. The cattle were settling down for the night, several riders circling the herd to calm them.
She smelled the aroma of baked beans and fresh coffee. Her stomach rumbled, but she wanted to remove some of the dust before she ate. Kit was talking with the young wrangler he’d put in charge of the remuda. She had to give Kit credit. He left no details to chance.
Rogues in Texas 02 - Never Love a Cowboy Page 8