Taming of Jessi Rose

by Beverly Jenkins

“Because that’s what I’ve always done.”

  By now the second cauldron was filled and was soon next to its twin on the grate. “Don’t you think you deserve to soak off all that lye and sweat in nice hot tub, no worries, no complaints?” Griffin asked plainly.

  Jessi thought about it, and yes, she found the scenario very appealing. “But it’s a waste of water, Griffin.”

  He shook his head. Walking over to her, he gently cupped her face with both of his large hands. Staring down at her, he said quietly, “Sometimes you are too practical for your own good, Jessi Rose Clayton. Treat yourself, you’ve worked hard today. If I knew where I could get you some ice cream, I’d get it for you.”

  Her answering smile was tender.

  “As your maestro, I demand that you do nothing for the rest of the day.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.

  “Nothing,” he repeated. “You are going to into your room and lie down. I’ll bring in the water. You will soak, and you will like it. You will then have some supper, and when the time comes you will go to bed and sleep. Do you understand?”

  Jessi could see that he was quite serious. He cared about her, she realized, and she’d never had a man in her life who had before, not in the way she sensed Griffin did. Jessi had no idea what to do with the knowledge, but her heart was so full, she could feel the tears stinging her eyes.

  He placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “Are we in agreement?”

  “Yes, Griffin,” she managed to whisper.

  So once again, Jessi Rose Clayton did as she was told; she soaked in the tub and she liked it, a whole lot; she had some supper, and when the time came, she went to bed and Griffin held her cradled against him until she fell asleep.

  The Twins showed up around midday, arguing over something that had to do with a casket. Jessi wasn’t sure what all the fuss was about, but she followed the arguing giants into the kitchen with the hope that Griff could sort it all out.

  “I was the one in the casket!”

  “No, you weren’t!”

  As well as Jessi could figure out, one of the Twins had posed as a corpse in a casket during one of their more memorable train robberies, but it wasn’t memorable enough, it seemed, because both men kept claiming to have been the corpse.

  Griffin let them argue for a few more minutes, then said, “The two of you have told that same lie to so many women over the years, neither of you remembers the real story anymore.”

  Two Shafts folded his arms across his chest. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, I was the corpse in the casket that day. Neil, you don’t like closed in places, and Shafts was too large to fit in the box.”

  Silence.

  Then Neil said to Two Shafts, “I think he’s right.”

  His brother conceded, “I think he is, too.”

  Jessi asked with a laugh, “You pretended to be a dead man so you could rob a train?”

  “Yep, and when I pushed up the casket lid after the train left the station, the express agent took one look at me rising from the dead and fainted right there on the spot.”

  Jessi found the story amazing.

  With the casket question now settled, Griffin asked, “Did you see Preacher while you were in town?”

  Neil replied, “Yep, he bought us drinks last night. You’ll be glad to know we’ve patched up our differences.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Two Shafts added, “He shouldn’t be too far behind us on the road. He said he’d meet us here by noon.”

  The Preacher arrived promptly at noon. Once they were all gathered around the kitchen table, the talk immediately turned to Reed Darcy and how best to neutralize him.

  Neil said, “I say we string him up. There isn’t a court in the land that’ll convict us for making a backshooter swing.”

  Secretly, a part of Jessi was all for the idea, but in her heart, she knew that tactic would make her no better than Darcy, so she said, “There’s already been enough violence. I want him strung up legally.”

  “A man like Darcy doesn’t deserve legalities, Miss Jessi,” Neil pointed out.

  “She’s too nice, Griffin,” Two Shafts told him. “How in the world did she meet an hombre like you?”

  “Deputy Marshal Wildhorse.”

  “The Indian Territory marshal?” Two Shafts asked with surprise.

  “Yep, he was the one who got me out of prison and sent me here. Made me a deputy marshal, too.”

  Neil laughed, “You lie so well, Cheno. No marshal in his right mind would give you a star. We weren’t born last night.”

  “Or this morning,” Two Shafts added sagely.

  “And all of you are going to be deputies, too,” Griffin announced, ignoring their sarcasm.

  “Not me,” said Two Shafts. “My ancestors will spin in their graves.”

  “So will mine,” Neil July chimed in.

  Neil leaned over to Jessi and said in a loud whisper, “Maybe you should take him back to the doc. He was hit harder with that chair than we thought.”

  Jessi chuckled.

  Griffin let them have their fun, then went to his bedroom to retrieve his saddlebag. Upon his return, he pulled out the extra stars. He tossed one to each of his friends, then said, “Preacher, get out your Bible.”

  Seemingly stunned, the twins stared first at the stars, then at Griffin.

  “You’re really serious, aren’t you?” Two Shafts asked.

  Griff nodded.

  “I’m not wearing this,” Neil stated flatly.

  Griff countered, “Yes, you are. If I have to have one, so do you.”

  “The Comanche do not wear symbols of American authority,” Two Shafts said.

  Griffin shook his head at their antics, then to Two Shafts he commanded, “Put the damn thing on so the Preacher can read the oath.”

  “Oh, no,” Neil July said, “I’m with Shafts, I’m not taking any oaths. I’m a Black Seminole, remember.”

  Watching all this, Jessi shook her head too.

  The Preacher, Bible in hand, stood. “Gentlemen, stand, please.”

  The Preacher’s stern voice seemed to settle the matter because the Twins reluctantly complied. He made each step forward in turn, place his hand on the Good Book, and repeat the oath after Griffin.

  When the short ceremony ended, Two Shafts declared, “I’ll wear it, but I won’t like it.”

  “Amen,” said Neil. “Amen.”

  The Preacher spoke up. “We should find out if there are any warrants on Darcy’s men. If there are, we can rid ourselves of at least some of them first thing. I wouldn’t mind going home to Denver with a little extra gold in my pocket.”

  “The sheriff should have all of the latest bulletins, shouldn’t he?” Jessi asked.

  Griff answered, “He should, but he’s already declared which side of the road he’s on. He won’t give us any help if he doesn’t have to.”

  “Did you get to talk to anyone in town?” Jessi asked the Twins.

  “Nope, we’re strangers; folks are too scared of Darcy, I’m guessing—at least for now.”

  The discussion and the planning went on for most of the afternoon. At one point, Two Shafts said, “The easiest thing to do would be to make Percy confess to killing Miss Jessi’s daddy. It’ll be real easy to put a noose around Darcy’s neck after that.”

  “That’s providing he did it on Darcy’s orders,” Preacher noted.

  “True,” Griffin said, “but I think we ought to make that our first job.”

  “Can we play with him first?” Neil asked.

  Jessi had no idea what that meant, but Griffin laughed and said, “I don’t see why not. Preacher, do you oppose our friends having a little fun?”

  “As long as it isn’t directed my way, I say fine.”

  The Twins smiled their satisfaction.

  It seemed Neil was quite an accomplished cook, and after the talk came to a close, he and his brother began bringing in barrels and sacks and bags of foodst
uffs from a wagon outside. They had potatoes and corn, flour and lard. There were rashers of bacon, what appeared to be half a crate of lemons, spices, rice, sugar, and so many other items Jessi could only stare.

  “I like to cook,” Neil told her matter of factly, as he carried in a butter churn.

  “And I like to eat,” his brother chimed in with a smile, as he entered the kitchen hauling a crate filled with cooking pans and skillets.

  “Where in the world did you get all of this?” Griffin asked. He’d been on the road with the Twins before, so he was accustomed to their eccentricities, but even he was bowled over by the sheer volume of goods they were bringing in.

  Neil began unpacking his pots and pans. “We got most of the food between here and Austin, the rest we got in town at the mercantile.”

  “Abe sold these things to you?” Jessi asked.

  Neil looked up. “He wasn’t supposed to?”

  “Nope. It’s against Darcy law to sell to anyone associated with me.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t know yet. Either way, we have just about everything we need.”

  So the Terrible Twins and the Preacher made themselves at home, and when Neil asked if he could take over the kitchen duties, Jessi didn’t balk. They set up a camp outside on the field behind the house with tents to shelter their bedrolls and gear. Jessi’s once quiet house was now filled with supplies, booming male laughter, and the sweet, savory smells of Neil’s chili cooking on the stove.

  Later, a silent Jessi and Griff sat on the steps of the front porch, enjoying the beautiful night. The day had been full of surprises, and thinking back, Jessi chuckled. “I can’t believe the fuss they put up over those stars.”

  “I can,” Griff replied knowingly. “When Marshal Wildhorse gave me mine, I whined even louder. Told him boils would break out on my body if I put that star on.”

  Jessi looked at him. “Boils? You don’t have any boils.”

  “That’s because the thing’s been in my saddlebag since he gave it to me, but it’s good to know you noticed their absence.”

  His flirting answer made her smile and shake her head. “Do you ever stop?”

  The darkness hid his grin. “Nope, and if I didn’t think your screaming would wake up everybody around, I’d show you why, right here, right now…”

  Her need for him coiled to life. “You know, with your friends around, we won’t have any privacy, and that means no more practicing for a while.”

  “I know.”

  “So what will we do?”

  He began to nibble her ear. “I don’t know. Shoot them while they sleep, maybe?”

  She chuckled softly. “I suppose we can just wait until they’re gone.”

  His mouth found hers and for a moment speech was forgotten.

  When the seal of their lips eased apart, he said, “That’s easier said than done. Can you hold out for a few weeks?”

  She knew it was a lie, but she said, “Yes.”

  He began to laugh. “No, you can’t, Jessi Clayton.”

  “If you can wait them out, so can I. In fact, it’s been proven that women have far more stamina than men.”

  He snorted. “What books have you been reading? I’m willing to bet you won’t last a week.”

  Jessi’s jaw dropped and she chuckled, “Are you challenging me, Griffin Blake?”

  “Yes, darlin’, I am. One week and you’ll be so full of need, you won’t care who hears you screaming.”

  Jessi did not believe him. “You have had too many willing women in your life, Mr. Outlaw.”

  “Probably, but I still say you can’t last a week. I’m in your blood like snake bite, just like you’re in mine.”

  “Okay then, you’re on. What’re you wagering?”

  Griff found her fearlessness both humorous and endearing. “Have you ever walked away from a challenge?” he asked wanting to make love to her in spite of the presence of his friends.

  “No,” she replied. “What’s the wager?”

  Amused, he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter because you’re going to lose.”

  She leaned over and kissed him slowly and passionately. When she eased away she whispered. “No, I’m not.”

  Grinning, he slid his hand up to her soft, short hair and brought her back to his lips. His lingering fiery kiss filled her with such heat, she melted as if made of wax. When he finally turned her loose, he told her in a hushed voice, “Yes, you are.”

  A still spiraling Jessi wanted to retort but couldn’t find the will.

  “I’ll see you later,” he said rising. The smile on his handsome face said it all. “Let me know what you’re planning on wagering.”

  He left her and disappeared around the side of the house.

  In the back, a whistling Griffin found the Preacher sitting outside of his tent reading a Bible by lantern light. The Twins were out scouting the perimeter for varmints.

  “Mind if I sit?” Griffin asked. He wondered if Jessi was still sitting on the porch.

  “Not a bit.” Preacher closed his Bible and gestured for Griffin to take a seat. He studied Griff for a moment. “You really do care about her, don’t you?”

  Surprised a bit by the question, Griffin asked, “You weren’t spying on me, were you, old man?”

  “No,” Preacher replied with a soft chuckle. In reality, Preacher was less than a decade older than Griff, but Griff always insisted on pointing out the age difference whenever they were together.

  Preacher added, “Just noticed the way you been watching her since we got here, is all.”

  “I do care for her, and I’m as surprised about it as anybody. Never been attracted to an older woman before.”

  “Sometimes they make the best kind.”

  “So I’m finding.” Griff rubbed the back of his neck. “I always thought that if I settled down, it would be with a young one.”

  “Both life and love are unexplainable.”

  “Do you think I’m in love?” Griff asked.

  “Doesn’t matter what I think. What do you think?”

  “Maybe. Hell, probably, but I know she thinks she’s just another notch on the bedpost.”

  “And she’s not?”

  “Nope.”

  “What do you propose to do?”

  “Find out a way to convince her she’s wrong.”

  “I’ll lend a hand whenever I can.”

  “I’d appreciate it. I really would.”

  There was a brief silence.

  “Do you think this Darcy thing can be fixed?” Preacher asked.

  “I do.”

  “Then I’ll be here for as long as you need me.”

  “I appreciate that, too.”

  As Jessi lay in bed that night, she smiled thinking back on Griffin. Although she’d never admit it, his kiss on the porch had left her senseless. She couldn’t last a few days without his lovemaking, let alone a week. In fact, she wished he were here holding her right now. Deciding it might be best to turn her mind elsewhere, her thoughts moved to Joth. Her desires for Griffin notwithstanding, she missed her nephew’s smiling face and hoped he was having a grand time. Closing her eyes, she sent him a little prayer, then turned over and tried to go to sleep.

  An hour or so later, the sound of her door being slowly opened awakened her. Turning to the sound, she tensed then relaxed upon seeing Griffin tipping into the room. Pleased that he’d answered her call, she sat up in the dark and asked softly, “Did you come to lose the bet?”

  “Nope, came to keep you warm,” he answered as he closed the door soundlessly. He had on one of her father’s robes.

  It was warm muggy night and they both knew it, but a delighted Jessi replied, “It is a bit chilly in here.”

  “You don’t mind me wearing this do you?” he asked indicating the robe as he discarded it.

  “No, I—”

  He stood before her as nude and as beautiful as a Yoruban god. Whatever else she’d been about to say was forgotten as her desire unfurled in heated r
esponse.

  She moved over so he could join her beneath the thin sheet and Jessi fit herself back against his bare chest and thighs. The feel of him surrounding her made her want to purr.

  “I didn’t like sleeping alone,” he confessed.

  “Neither did I.” Having him in bed beside her seemed natural, right. Content, she told him, “You know this does mean you lose.”

  He whispered against her ear, “How so?” He began to slide his hand over the rise of her nightown covered hip. “I just came to sleep.”

  As the lazy caress began to roam further, she replied, “That doesn’t feel like sleep to me. I think you’re trying to make me lose.”

  “Me?” he asked innocently.

  His hand moved to her breast and slowly began to awaken her nipple. Jessie husked out, “Yes, you.”

  He kissed the edge of her neck, “I’m here to sleep, nothing more.”

  He was now undoing the buttons on the front of her gown. When he’d opened them to his satisfaction, his seductive play made her arch sensually.

  “I’m just helping you relax. Where’s all this stamina you were bragging about?”

  He slid her nightgown above her hips, then his warm, strong hands proceeded to relax her until her soft gasps rose in the silence.

  Still playing with her, he teased his mustached lips across her ear. “Sleepy yet?”

  “You’re incorrigible,” she pointed out breathlessly.

  “And you feel like silk,” he replied thickly.

  His hands were magic and she was captured by his spell.

  “I suppose I’m not playing fair, am I?” he asked.

  “No, you’re not,” came her hushed reply.

  “Okay,” he said then, “I’ll let you go to sleep before you lose the bet.”

  “I’m not going to lose.” It was a lie. In a few more moments she wasn’t going to give a damn about a bet.

  But true to his word, he righted her clothes, much to her disappointment.

  Leaning above her, he looked down into her night shrouded eyes. “Better now?” he asked teasingly.

  “Incorrigible man.”

  He kissed her soundly then held her against him until sleep claimed them both.

  The new Clayton clan went into town the next morning, and as they rode down the center of the main street, everyone on the walks and in the shop doorways stopped and stared. In the ensuing silence, only the horses’ steps could be heard. No one taunted Jessi with ugly names. No one said a word.