Taming of Jessi Rose

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Taming of Jessi Rose Page 30

by Beverly Jenkins


  “I am obedient…” she whispered, savoring his caresses and his kiss, “…when obedience is called for.”

  He chuckled and stood up with her still cradled in his arms. “Let’s see you prove it.”

  Before their departure, he dipped her low so she could blow out the candles on the table.

  The night songs of the crickets played against the silence of her room as he laid her gently atop the bed. The clean sheets felt sensual against her back; almost as sensual as the kiss he brushed against her exposed navel. Because of the gown’s disarray, it veiled some portions of her body but left others deliciously bare: like the corner of her hip and the tender inside of one thigh. He kissed a lazy, meandering trail up to her breasts, then brushed his lips against the rose-scented skin of her throat. He undid the tiny bow which held the front of the gown together and widened the now unconnected halves. She lay there nude and ripe for whatever games they wished to play.

  By the time he finished taking the long way around her body, she was fairly bursting with need, but he wasn’t done. He made her gown a co-conspirator and used the soft fabric to tease and tantalize all the places he’d already prepared. She moaned as he glanced it blissfully over the undercurve of her breasts, then moved it like a whisper down to her waist. Gold silk stroked her hips, the skin of her legs, and the shadow-filled darkness between her thighs. Her hips rose as the touches intensified and her legs parted from the pleasuring. When he leaned down to pay her the ultimate tribute, a purr of satisfaction slid from her throat. He parted her gently, then conquered her with such magnificent expertise, she had to fight to keep from soaring away. His mouth was wanton, his fingers brazen; she had no defenses, not against this, so a few hot moments later, as the sensations converged, she cried out and shattered like a pane of glass.

  “Happy birthday…” he murmured.

  It was a birthday Jessi would not soon forget.

  The next morning, Griff thought about his future as he lay in bed beside the still sleeping Jessi. For the very first time, he seemed to have a purpose in his life. There’d be no more train robbing, stealing, or running around with women. He had Jessi now, and because he did, he had the potential to have a life even his brother Jackson would approve of. Last night he’d made love to her more times than he could count in a variety of places and positions that made him hard just thinking back on them. She’d been vibrant, thrilling, and very very outrageous. Back on the first night they’d met, you couldn’t’ve paid him to believe she’d wind up being the woman he wanted to marry. He also would’ve had a hard time believing that her love for him would exceed any other feelings he’d experienced before. His Jessi was magnificent, strong, and shaped by all the heartbreak and pain in her life. There were many dark places in the woman he loved, places that sheltered pain, tears, and betrayal, but not even his ego was large enough to think he could just whisk them away. It would take time for him to show her that the light of his love would never fail and that she now had someone to help shoulder her fears. He knew she’d become accustomed to bearing her burdens alone, but he wanted to change that.

  So that was now his purpose; to love Jessi and to walk beside her so she’d never have to walk alone. Ever.

  He reached out and ran a worshipping finger up her bare spine. She shifted a bit then turned over and slowly opened her eyes. She smiled sleepily. “Good morning.”

  He bent and kissed her brow. “Good morning, love. Did you sleep well?”

  “No, I had a man in my bed last night who kept stripping me naked and making me do shameless things.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “Extremely.”

  “Good.”

  She dragged herself to a sitting position. “We really need to get married.”

  He kissed her on the collarbone, then brushed his lips over the sleep damp skin. “Why?”

  “Because I enjoy waking up with you by my side.”

  “I enjoy making love to you when you wake up by my side.”

  His hands were roaming and she was melting. “That sounds like an invitation. Do you think we’ll have time before you have to go play sheriff?”

  “We’ll make the time…”

  The next night, Two Shafts and Neil slipped into Roscoe’s house as soundlessly as twin shadows and kidnapped his wife. With Reed out of town and Roscoe passed out on the porch, they had no trouble.

  They brought her, bound and gagged, back to Jessi’s kitchen, and Minerva was of course quite furious.

  “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded in an outraged voice after Neil removed the gag. She was dressed in a nightgown and the blanket the Twins had taken from her bed.

  “We just want to talk,” Jessi said. “Nothing more.”

  “Well, it had better be good.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, it will be.”

  Griffin pulled up a chair and took a seat before her.

  There was a wariness in her eyes as she waited for the next shoe to drop, but she was doing her best to show the outrage instead.

  “So, Eula, how’ve you been?” Griffin asked her casually.

  “My name is Minerva Darcy, are you all drunk?” she asked, looking around at them all.

  Griffin reached into his pocket and withdrew the most recent of her warrants. He held it up for her to see. “Says here your name is Eula Grimes.”

  She looked away.

  “It also says here that you’re wanted in Kansas City, Denver, and Reno for swindling old men out of their savings.”

  Her manner turned cool. “So what? Just because you’re the new sheriff doesn’t mean I should quake in my boots just because you think I’m someone else. You men are very very small-time.”

  “She’s right, you know,” Griffin replied agreeably. “No one really pays a lot of attention to a local sheriff, so boys, let’s show her who we really are and maybe she’ll respect us a bit more.”

  One by one, Griffin, the Twins, and Preacher pinned on their marshal badges and Minerva’s eyes widened very large indeed. She stared over at Jessi as if she expected her to produce one too. “Sorry,” Jessi said with a shrug. “I wish I had one, but I don’t—but you do look impressed now, if I must say so myself.”

  A speechless Minerva continued to stare at the marshals surrounding her.

  “Now,” Griffin said, “since it’s obvious you recognize the badge of a U.S. Deputy Marshal when you see one, let’s start again. So, Eula, how’ve you been?”

  She’d been bested and knew it. “I’ve been better, believe me. Are those real?”

  “Yep.”

  “What do you want?” she asked, sounding defeated.

  “Reed Darcy.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Fricasseed or fried?”

  Griff hid his smile. “Preferably fried.”

  “And in exchange?”

  “You don’t go to prison for being Eula Grimes and you get to leave town as soon as you’d like.”

  “Sounds reasonable.”

  Jessi had been right, Minerva had turned on Darcy as fast as she could say her own name and showed not one ounce of guilt over it. “You’re tossing your father-in-law over mighty quick, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Would you rather I stay loyal, Jessi? I’m a realist, and like you, a survivor. If marshals are after Reed, that means it’s time for me to move on. I’ve been to prison once, and I swore I would never enter another. So, what do you want me to do?”

  “We need to know about his shady business deals and whether he ordered his men to murder Jessi’s father,” Griff responded.

  She didn’t hesitate. “He did. Said he was tired of Dexter being a thorn in his side and he wanted it taken out. Told the man you’ve been calling Percy that he didn’t care how it was done.”

  “If we asked you to write that down and sign it, would you?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Griffin’s reply was blunt. “No.”

  He looked to Jessi, who went to her room to retrieve a sheet of w
riting paper and a pen.

  As Jessi retrieved the items she paused a moment before going back. Even though Minerva had just verified what Jessi had always believed, it saddened her to hear the truth nonetheless. Dexter Clayton, in spite of all his faults, had died because of his strength, his courage, and his belief in standing up for what was right. Yes, Jessi wanted Reed fried—in the hottest grease possible. She took a deep breath and went back into the kitchen.

  Minerva took a moment to write down the events of that night and what she’d heard Reed Darcy say. That done, she affixed her signature and the date and Griff set the paper aside to dry.

  “Is the government after Reed because of the counterfeiting, too?” Minerva asked then, “because I swear I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Yes,” Griffin lied. He’d no idea Reed had ties to such an operation, but Minerva didn’t need to know that. “What can you tell us about that?”

  “He has a press in the barn behind Ros’s house. Reed’s been short on funds lately so he’s been printing his own.”

  Griffin fought to keep his surprise masked, but was certain everyone else in the room had been caught off guard too. “Where’d he get the equipment?”

  “Purchased it, I suppose. He said he was a printer’s devil when he lived back east, so I assume that’s where he acquired the skills.”

  “Who’s he been giving this money to?”

  “Everybody: his hands, town merchants, the doc.”

  Jessi thought back to the dollars Reed had given out during the election. “Were the dollars he passed out during the election bad bills too?”

  “Printed hundreds of them.”

  Preacher asked, “Do you know where he keeps the plates?”

  “In the safe.”

  “Can you get your hands on them?”

  She shook her head. “No, Reed shared many things with me, but not the combinations to his safes. Ros might have them, but I never did. I did try though.”

  Jessi bet she did. “So, Minerva, if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly is your line of work?”

  “I’m a confidence woman. I win their confidence and I take their money. Simple.”

  “So, was this job a successful one?” Neil wanted to know.

  “No. They bought me clothes and took me on trips, but Reed is a miserly son of a bitch. I never got access to any of the money. Now he doesn’t have any, of course, so I was planning on leaving soon anyway.”

  Two Shafts said, “Explain.”

  “The poker game wiped him out. He was only a few days away from selling the mortgages he had in hand, but at the end of the game he had two choices, both bad. He could not cover his bet and be known as a welsher to those English investors, or he could pay up and lose the mortgages.”

  “How badly did he need that money?” Griffin asked.

  “Real bad. In two weeks time, everybody he does business with on both sides of the border’s going to know the true state of his finances, and then all hell is probably going to break loose. He took in a lot of funds that he’s not going to be able to account for. He was taking Peter’s money and investing it with Paul—Paul went belly-up six weeks ago, and Reed was hoping the profits from the mortgages would cover it, but you came to town, Blake—you and your friends, and turned over the table.”

  “So, you’re leaving,” Griff stated.

  “Yep, I never stay on a sinking ship, and Reed’s bailing fast. He’s in Austin now, trying to raise more cash.”

  Preacher quoted, “Let the wicked fall into their own nets.”

  Griffin nodded. “Psalm 142.”

  Preacher looked pleased. “I’m impressed, again.”

  Minerva viewed both of them with an odd look before turning her attention to the Twins. “So, can one of you handsome marshals see me home?”

  Neil asked, “Are we done?”

  Griffin couldn’t think of anything else. He looked around at his small war council, but everyone appeared satisfied, at least for now, so Griff nodded. “We’re done. Escort her back.”

  “Be glad to.”

  Minerva stood and smiled up invitingly at the tall handsome Seminole. “Will you carry me, like you did last time?”

  Neil grinned. “Sweetheart, you should know that I don’t have a dime.”

  She looked disappointed. “Pity. In that case, I’ll walk.”

  Jessi smiled and shook her head.

  Both Neil and his brother escorted Minerva home, and after their departure, Jessi, Preacher, and Griff remained in the kitchen to talk further.

  Griff said, “You were right, Jessi. Minerva dropped Darcy like a hot coal.”

  “I’m almost sorry I broke her tooth now,” Jessi said. “Almost.”

  Preacher looked up a moment as if thinking. “Let’s see. Murder and counterfeiting. How many years do you think Judge Parker will give Darcy?”

  “We can’t can count that high.”

  Jessi said, “Even if he’s there for an eternity, it won’t bring my father back, but at least I know the truth.”

  When the Twins returned the discussion turned to the next nail in Reed Darcy’s casket, Percy West. “I think we should bring him over to the sheriff’s office and see if we can’t persuade him to tell the truth,” Griff proposed.

  “We’re not letting him leave town afterward, are we?” Two Shafts asked.

  “Nope, Preacher can have him when we’re through. I’m sure Percy’s wanted somewhere by somebody,” Griff told him.

  So it was decided Percy would be next.

  The next night, Griffin, the Twins, and Preacher rode into town. Since Percy had a habit of patronizing Auntie’s, that was where they decided to begin the search. He was there all right, playing cards as always, and when he saw the four lawmen stride in, his jaw dropped.

  “Yes, Percy, we’ve come for you,” Neil declared easily in response.

  “You knew we would,” Shafts added.

  “You’re the law now,” Percy shot back, his bravado returning. “You can’t just take me out and shoot me.”

  Standing over the seated Percy, Griff said pleasantly, “Who said anything about shooting? We just want to talk.”

  “About what?”

  Neil reached over and slowly began turning over Percy’s cards. “We think you might know something about Dexter Clayton’s death that might help us find the killer.”

  The turned-over cards showed Percy was on his way to a straight. Upon seeing this, the three other players hastily scraped their wagers out of the pot.

  “What do you think?” Neil asked into his face.

  Percy was staring forlornly at his now useless cards.

  Two Shafts grinned. “I think he’s thinking he wished you hadn’t done that.”

  Neil patted him sympathetically on the back. “Old Percy here plays cards like a professional, I’m sure he gets straights all the time, don’t you Perce?”

  “Get your hands off me,” he snapped.

  Neil looked outdone. “You give a man a compliment, and what do you get in return? Bad manners.”

  “I think he should come with us,” Shafts replied.

  “The hell I will.”

  Neil looked at his brother and said, “Whatever are we going to do with him?”

  Before Percy could blink, Neil grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged the seated man across the table top. Money and cards went everywhere and the other players scrambled out of the way. Neil held the shorter Percy up at eye level. “Now, we tried to be nice about this, but I don’t think you realize that you don’t have a choice.”

  Percy looked like a prairie dog staring into the eyes of a snake. Griffin walked over and relieved Percy of his firearm.

  “You can put him down now, Neil,” Griff said.

  Neil “tossed” instead of “put” and Percy landed with a stumble.

  “Mr. Darcy ain’t going to like this,” Percy said, eyes angry. “When he gets back day after tomorrow, there’s going to be hell to pay.”

>   Griff waved Percy to the door with his own gun and gave both the onlooking Doyle and Auntie a wave and a smile as he and his friends marched Percy out into the night.

  Jessi waited up for their return, and when they did, she stepped out onto the porch. Percy West’s hands were tied to the pommel of his mount’s saddle. She was pleased to see they’d returned with their prey. Aided by the light cast by the lanterns on the porch, Jessi watched them help West off his horse and head him up the gravel walk. “Welcome to the Clayton ranch, West. Looking forward to your stay.”

  As the men neared, Jessi could see that he did not appear to share her sentiments.

  Griffin slipped his arm around her waist. “I don’t think Percy has too much to say right now, do you, Percy?”

  “No.”

  “See?” Griff told her.

  “What’ll we do with him?” Preacher asked.

  “Well, let’s truss him up for now and he can play with the Twins in the morning,” Griff replied.

  Percy did have something to say now. “You can’t just keep me here. Mr. Darcy’s not going to stand for this.”

  “Mr. Darcy has bigger problems. Did you know he’s been paying you with counterfeit money?” Preacher asked.

  Percy stared around. “That’s a lie,” he declared firmly.

  Shafts replied, “See? I told you all he’d be too smart to fall for that one.”

  “Yeah, I’m too smart for that one.”

  Neil shook his head. “Yeah, you’re real smart. Let’s go.”

  Neil and his brother led Percy around to the back of the house, and once there, retied his hands behind his back, looped a rope around his ankles, and tied it with a sturdy and intricate knot. They pushed him over on the ground and left him there. When he began yelling about being freed and cursing about the ancestry of the people involved, he was summarily gagged and everyone went to bed.

  When Jessi awakened the next morning, she got dressed and went outside to see how the guest had fared. She found the men behind the house and the irate Percy seated on the ground still gagged. “Good morning, everyone. Percy.”

  Percy’s angry eyes showed that he found nothing good about the morning at all, but the others greeted her with a smile.

 

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