Taming of Jessi Rose

by Beverly Jenkins

  Looking into her eyes, he announced, “I need to talk to Miss Jessi alone, if I can.”

  Surprisingly enough, no one balked. They even took Joth with them, leaving Jessi and Griff alone in the parlor.

  “What did you wish to speak with me about?”

  “Nothing, really, just wanted to get a good, long look at you up close.”

  Jessi now understood what it meant to drown in a man’s eyes. She was so far underwater she could hardly breathe. “Is there something wrong with the way I look?”

  “Oh, hell no, you look fine-so fine, I should probably warn you to watch your back for the rest of the night.”

  “Why?”

  “Ambush.”

  Jessi’s senses flared to life. “You’d ambush a woman in a dress?”

  “In a minute.”

  “Then I guess I’ll have to be careful…”

  “Yes, you will…”

  “Thanks for the warning,” she said smiling up at him.

  “My pleasure.”

  Shaken by the force of her own desire, Jessi touched his face softly, briefly, then left the room to join the others.

  Griffin went to the door and called Joth.

  When the boy entered, he said, “Did you want me for something?”

  “Yep, have a seat.”

  Joth sat on the big overstuffed sofa and asked, “Am I in trouble?”

  Griff chuckled. “No, son. Just need to talk with you about something I’m planning.”

  “If it’s a train robbery, I don’t think my aunt will let me come along.”

  Griffin’s mustache lifted with his grin. “It’s not a train robbery. I want to marry your Aunt Jessi.”

  Joth’s eyes went wide. “You do?”

  “Yep, but I need your permission to court her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re the only male Clayton around here.”

  “Oh.”

  Griffin thought it time Joth knew how he felt about Jessi, and because Griff had come to care for Joth, the boy’s approval meant a lot. “So, what do you think?”

  Joth seemed to think a minute, then with very serious eyes asked, “Will you be nice to her?”

  Griffin nodded. He knew how much pain Joth carried inside because of the way the townspeople treated Jessi. If Joth had his way, Jessi would never know hurt again, and Griffin wanted that hope to come true too. “Always.”

  Joth smiled softly. “Then you have my permission.”

  “Thanks, Jotham.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  When it was time to depart, Jessi gave Joth a short lecture on how he was to conduct himself with Preacher while she was away, and then kissed the Preacher’s cheek for his generosity.

  It embarrassed him and he ducked away, but the gesture seemed to make Neil jealous. “I slave over a hot stove every day, and nobody gives me kisses.”

  Jessi went over and kissed the handsome Seminole’s dark, bearded cheek. “Better?”

  He nodded, pleased.

  She swung her attention to his brother. “Do you need one, too?”

  “No, ma’am,” he replied, his eyes shining with amusement.

  Griff began waving his hand frantically, saying, “I do. I do.”

  Jessi rolled her eyes. “I’ll meet you gentlemen outside.”

  As Griffin slapped the reins across the backs of the two-horse team, the old wagon began to roll and Jessi waved good-bye to Joth and Preacher. The Twins were on horseback and flanked the old buckboard like an official escort. Jessi could just about imagine the stir they would cause once they arrived. Then she reminded herself that she was coming to town help Auntie open up her newly refurbished place, not to be judged by a bunch of gossips and hypocrites.

  She looked over at Griff, decked out so handsomely in a new blue shirt and vest; the trousers looked new, too, as did the string tie. Jessi was of the opinion that Griffin Blake would look handsome wearing a flour sack, and she had to admit, she was looking forward to being ambushed later on.

  When they reached town, Neil and Two Shafts rode on ahead, while Griff headed the team toward the livery. Jessi couldn’t believe the number and the variety of vehicles clogging the streets: buckboards, carriages, wagons, buggies. She saw some carriages so fancy she knew they couldn’t belong to any of her neighbors. As Griff drove slowly through the busy streets, Jessi thought it looked like an old-fashioned Juneteenth celebration. Jessi’s assumption that only a handful of folks would come out for this late afternoon event had been a faulty one. With all the goings on, one would think they were celebrating the opening of the new opera house Minerva Darcy kept insisting the town council build.

  As the wagon moved past the crowds, Jessi saw the faces of women who’d spat on the walk as she passed, men who had snickered at her mother’s funeral. She saw the upright Christian Mary McCoy, who’d told her son Ross that it was perfectly all right to address Joth as a “son of a whore.” These people hadn’t been kind to her or her family. Only her love for Auntie could bring her into this nest of vipers.

  “Are you ready?” Griffin asked her, after he finally found a space behind the livery to put the buckboard and pulled back on the brake.

  Jessi confessed truthfully, “No, but the sooner I go in. the sooner I can leave and get out of these uncomfortable clothes.”

  Jessi had become accustomed to the freedom offered by the denims she usually wore, and this dress, although costly and fashionable, made her feel bound and constricted.

  “You don’t look uncomfortable.”

  “Well, I am. Gillie sent me this damn French underwear. At least the label says it’s French, and—”

  “French underwear?” Griffin asked, interrupting. “What type of French underwear?”

  His eager questioning made her look up. She should’ve known better than to tell him something so provocative. She smiled. “Never mind. Forget I mentioned it.”

  “Aw, Jessi, don’t be cruel. What kind?”

  Silence.

  “At least tell me what color it is.”

  “No. Griffin,” she laughed.

  “Jessi?”

  She silently mouthed the word no, then said aloud, “If you’re supposed to be gentleman to my lady, now’s the time for you to come around here and help me out of this elegant Texas carriage.”

  “I’m going to give you all the help you can stand later, and you can bet the ranch.”

  He got down and came around to her side of the board. She placed her hand in his and he assisted her down with all the grace of a Haitian count. “So you aren’t going to answer my question?”

  “No, Griffin, I am not.” But grinning saucily at up at him, she crooked a finger at him. He leaned down and she whispered into his ear, “I guess you’ll just have to find out for yourself, later.”

  She left him standing there with his mouth open as she walked up the street.

  He caught up with her immediately and they both laughed. As they approached Auntie’s, Jessi could hear the lively piano playing and the loud voices of the celebrants wafting out to the street from inside. Except for the bunting across the door and the newly painted letters on the sign, the facade still looked the same. Inside, however, things had changed. Auntie’d apparently knocked out a wall and expanded the place. The downstairs room appeared to be much larger. Good thing, because the saloon was packed. Jessi, with Griffin right behind her, waded into the press in an effort to find Auntie. Knowing that her neighbors would not be happy to see her, Jessi was determined not to make eye contact with anyone. However, they seemed to have other ideas.

  More than a few men and women who hadn’t spoken to her in years came up and greeted her as if she’d been magically transformed into someone else. They asked after Joth, her health, and if she thought the area would ever get any rain. One young mother gushed on and on about her son being in Joth’s classroom, while another came up and asked if she’d like to have tea sometime next week. Women who’d pointed and whispered at her were n
ow acting nice as pie. Jessi wondered if someone had slipped whiskey into the ladies’ punch, because that had to be the only explanation for such amazing behavior.

  Someone placed a hold on her arm as she passed one of the new, highly polished tables and she looked down into the dark brooding eyes of Reed Darcy. “Good evening, Jessi. You look lovely. I’d like to introduce you to some friends of mine.”

  Jessi scanned the table. Along with Percy West, who still sported fading bruises, were two White men and one Black. All of the strangers were finely dressed, but Jessi had no desire to meet any friends of Darcy’s. “No thanks.”

  She moved to step away only to have Reed’s hold tighten on her arm.

  He told his friends proudly, “See why I want her as my bride? She’s a fiery little thing, isn’t she?”

  Griff told him coolly, “Unless you want to leave this party as a one-armed man, I’d advise you to drop your hand and let her go.”

  Reed glanced up at Griffin disdainfully. “Ah yes, the new suitor.” He released his hold. “How’re you, Blake?”

  “Fine, Darcy, and you?”

  “You know you owe me for that window you busted,” he said pleasantly.

  “Soon as you pay Jessi for the one your men shot up, I’ll pay for yours.”

  Darcy looked away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Darcy then turned to the men at the table. “This is the man trying to steal away my bride. What she see sees in him is beyond me, but,” and he lifted his glass in a mock toast, “she’ll see the light in a few days.”

  Jessi saw Percy smile evilly. She had no idea what Reed meant, and at this point, she didn’t much care. Ignoring him further, she and Griffin moved on. “Why can’t he just be struck by lightning?” she asked tightly.

  “If I could arrange it, believe me, I would.” Griffin had no idea what Darcy had meant either, but he planned to watch his back.

  Doyle waved as they finally made it to the bar. Jessi didn’t imbibe, but Griffin ordered himself a small shot of tequila.

  “So what do you think of the new place?” Doyle shouted proudly over the din.

  “It’s very—red,” Jessi shouted back, and it was. The walls were covered with red flocked paper, and the old sawdust and dirt floor had been replaced with one made of wood. The cloths on all the tables were red and trimmed with gold, as was the new carpet on the steps leading upstairs. Everywhere Jessi looked she saw red and gold. She didn’t particularly care for the garish new interior, but it certainly looked fabulous when compared with the drab and tired place it had been before.

  “Have you seen Auntie?” Jessi yelled.

  “She’s out back, escaping the crowd and the heat.”

  They found Auntie and the girls holding court on chairs set out in the field behind the saloon. They were surrounded by men, some familiar, others not. The pungent, mouth-watering smell of meat cooking rose from the hogs and sides of beef turning on spits manned by barbershop owner Wilson Cornell and the shopkeeper Abe Thomas. Jessi looked around for Cornell’s wife Lydia, but did not see her.

  Jessi and Griff threaded their way to Auntie’s side, and upon seeing them, Auntie threw up her hands and jumped to her feet. She gave them both a strong hug. “I’m so glad you two came. How do you like my new place? Can you tell red is my favorite color?”

  “Yes, we could. It’s so much larger than before,” Jessi replied.

  “That it is, and I have the Twins to thank. If they hadn’t destroyed the place, I would never have been able to fix it up like I always wanted.”

  Griffin still wondered how much the Twins had given her, but it was far too late to ask.

  “Griffin, there’s a poker game going on upstairs, go play while Jessi and I talk.”

  Griffin looked down at Jessi. “How can I refuse a direct order?”

  “Guess you can’t. I’ll find you later.”

  He touched her cheek and headed back to the door.

  “Jessi Rose, that is one gorgeous man,” Auntie said, staring after Griff appreciatively. “And he sure looks like he knows how to take the long way around a woman’s body. If I were twenty years younger I’d give you a run for your money.”

  Jessi and the girls laughed. Jessi could see the folks around her watching and listening, but she ignored them. “Auntie, come take a walk with me for a few moments.”

  “Sure.”

  As they moved away from the crowd, Jessi mentioned how she’d been greeted by the townspeople upon arrival and asked, “Why is everybody being so nice? You didn’t put tequila in the punch again, did you?”

  Auntie’s black eyes glittered with amusement. “No, though some of them could use a good stiff drink. Did the Twins come?”

  “They are stalking the town daughters even as we speak.”

  “Good, they’ll liven up the place.” She beamed at Jessi. “Look at you, all prettied up. You should dress this way more often.”

  “Thank you for the compliment, but I can’t ride fences or brand cows dressed this way.”

  “Of course not, dear, but every now and then you should. It’ll help you remember why the Good Lord made you a female.”

  Jessi knew better than to argue, so she grinned and said, “Yes, Auntie.”

  “Now, what was your question?”

  “Why is everyone smiling at me like I’m the Second Coming?”

  “Hard to stomach, isn’t it?”

  Jessi nodded.

  “Damn bunch of hypocrites.”

  “Watch your language, now,” Jessi warned, smiling.

  “I’m sorry. Fool bunch of hypocrites.”

  Jessi shook her head. Auntie’s speech had been peppered with invectives for as long as Jessi could remember, and Jessi had gotten in big trouble when she was young for emulating her. “So what’s the reason?”

  “They’re acting like you’re the Second Coming because they think you are.”

  Jessi’s face mirrored her confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  “They think Griffin and his friends are here to do away with Reed Darcy once and for all.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep, folks are saying you’re calling in desperadoes from as far away as California to help you make a final stand.”

  “Sounds like a marvelous plan. Too bad it isn’t the truth.”

  “I know. They figure if they’re nice to you, you’ll protect them too.”

  Jessi was speechless for a moment, then she began to laugh so hard her sides started to ache. When she was able to gather herself she wiped the tears from her eyes. “Oh, Auntie, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in years. They want protection from the whore!”

  “Some are even saying that when your men are done with Darcy, you’re going to start in on everybody who was ever mean to you.”

  “That’ll cover just about everyone here.”

  “Except for me and Gillie.”

  “Except for you and Gillie,” Jessi replied affectionately.

  Auntie looked up at her and said, “It’s good to see you smiling again, little girl.”

  “I’ve had precious little to smile about.”

  “Amen,” Auntie chimed softly. “It’s still good to see though, then again, what female wouldn’t be smiling, having those handsome men around the house? Especially that Griffin Blake.”

  “Auntie—” Jessi warned.

  “Don’t Auntie me, little girl, you could do worse.”

  Jessi couldn’t argue with that.

  Jessi walked Auntie back to the saloon. “There’ll be eats in a little while. Stay as long as you like.”

  Jessi nodded. “Thanks, I will.”

  Jessi went back inside and was immediately assaulted by the heat of too many bodies in too small a space. Outdoors was much cooler but she doubted Griffin wanted to be pulled away from his poker game so soon just to escort her outside, so she thought she’d go see if Gillie was in her shop. To her disappointment, the shop was closed. Gillie was probably at her home outside of town.
Faced with nothing else to do but go back to the saloon, Jessi turned around to do so. As she passed the alley running alongside Gillie’s shop, she stopped; she thought she heard someone singing. When the soft, mournful tune resumed, Jessi walked down the alley to investigate.

  The singing came from Roscoe Darcy. He was seated on the ground with his back against Gillie’s wall, and he appeared to be very drunk. When he looked up and saw Jessi standing over him, he gave her a lopsided grin and said in a friendly but slurred voice, “Hey, Jessi girl. Haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays.”

  She couldn’t stop her smile from forming in reply. At one time, she and Ros had been the closest of friends, but they hadn’t spoken as friends in years, and since her father’s murder, she hadn’t spoken to him at all. “Hello, Ros. How are you?”

  He’d always been very fastidious about his dress and manner, but today his suit looked as if it had been slept in. His eyes were red from drink, and his hair hadn’t been dressed in quite a while. “Well, as you can see, I’m drunk. Drunk, drunk, drunk, drunk, drunk. Plan to stay this way, too.”

  “Why, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I like it, and it makes Reed furious.” He began to giggle like a child. “Nothing he can do about it, though. Not a damn thing.” He placed his hand over his mouth. “Sorry, shouldn’t cuss when a lady’s around.”

  Looking up at her again, he said, “You know, Jessi girl, if you stay drunk, you don’t have to see what’s right in front of your face. They think I’m blind, and the drink helps me pretend I am.”

  “Who thinks you’re blind?”

  “Reed and that whore known as my wife. She’s the real whore, Jessi girl, not you.”

  Jessi wondered if that meant he knew about Minerva opening her bed to his father. It certainly sounded that way. Was that what had started Roscoe drinking?

  “You know,” he said drunkenly, “she actually thought I’d believe she was a virgin. Can you believe that?”

  “No, Ros, I can’t.”

  “Me neither,” he replied. “Reed had her before I did. Told her he couldn’t marry her because he was going to marry you. He must be blind too.”

  “He must be.”

  “Keep telling him, ‘Jessi girl ain’t gonna marry you, Pa.’ He won’t believe me. Thinks he’s too powerful and rich for you to say no. Keep telling him, ‘Jessi girl ain’t going to marry you, Pa,’ but he don’t believe me.” He peered up at her. “Did you tell him?”