Wildcat Bride

by Lauri Robinson

  Eva stumbled, but Jessie’s hold held her upright. “How did you know?”

  “Eva Robertson! I consider myself your best friend. Your sister. Do you honestly think I wouldn’t be able to take one look at you and know you saw Bug?” Jessie pulled her toward the kitchen. “Besides the fact you arrived home a week early.”

  Jessie led Eva to a chair and set her down. Then the other woman gathered cups from the cupboard and filled them from the steaming pot. She set them on the table and took a seat next to Eva. “You wouldn’t have left early if you hadn’t seen him. The art show wasn’t the only reason you went to New York. I knew that from the beginning so don’t try to deny it.”

  Eva’s resolve shattered, breaking apart in big, painful chunks. “Oh, Jessie, it was awful.”

  “The art show?”

  Eva shook her head, knowing if she opened her mouth she’d wail like an infant.

  “Bug?”

  She nodded.

  “Why, is he hurt? Looks awful?”

  She shook her head. A sob burst from her chest.

  “He hates me.”

  “Hates you? Now, that I don’t believe.” Jessie handed her an embroidered hanky. “Here, cry your eyes out, and then tell me everything that happened.”

  Eva didn’t need the instructions to let the tears flood, they were already doing so. After the storm eased, she blew her nose, and feeling a touch better, smiled at her friend. “Thanks, I needed that.”

  “Yes, you did. We all do once in awhile.” Jessie dumped out the cold coffee in Eva’s cup and refilled it. “Now, what happened? Where did you see Bug?”

  Wrapping her hands around the cup, Eva absorbed the heat. “He came to the art show.”

  “I suspected he might.”

  “Why, did you write to him about it?”

  “No, no one did. Just as you asked.” Jessie sipped her coffee. “So what happened?”

  “Oh, Jessie, it was so good to see him. He looked so handsome, and strong, and tall, and…”

  “And?”

  “And he had a beautiful woman at his side.”

  “What?”

  Eva swallowed, nodding.

  “Who was she?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask. There wasn’t time, right after we met,” she paused, remembering how wonderful his arms had felt around her in that moment. Knowing Jessie waited to hear more, she continued, “I had to make my introduction and then there were people who wanted to talk to me. It wasn’t until later in the evening that I saw him again. He was so angry then.”

  “About what?”

  “Everything. He felt I was exploiting our family with my paintings, and he thought I was gullible by letting Jack oversee everything. We had a terrible argument, and…” Painful guilt bubbled in her stomach. “I told him about Willamina. Just like that I blurted out that she was dead, and that I wouldn’t let anyone write to him about it. He was so hurt and so mad. He told me that wasn’t my choice to make and then he left.”

  “Did you see him again?”

  “No, we left the next day.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” Eva repeated.

  Jessie nodded. “Why?”

  Eva searched for an answer. Pain, raw and oozing, twisted her insides, and blocked her mind from recalling the reasons that had determined she should return home that morning. Not a single one surfaced.

  “Why not? There wasn’t anything I could do.”

  She shrugged. “I just felt I had to come home.”

  “Without a fight?”

  “We had a fight.”

  “No, I mean without fighting for the man you love. Not fighting with him. Fighting for him.”

  Eva opened her mouth, but once again, her mind was as blank as a new canvas.

  Jessie wrapped her hands, warm and tenderly around Eva’s still holding her cup. “There was a time when Kid thought he wanted to send to Europe for a wife. It’s a long story, but he knew a rancher who had a wife from Europe and that’s what he thought he needed in order to be a successful rancher. I almost accepted it. Thought if that’s what would make him happy, that’s what I would have to do.” Eva frowned. The thought of Kid wanting any woman except Jessie was unfathomable. As was the image of Jessie stepping aside for another woman to lay claim on Kid.

  “But then, I changed my mind. We can’t change other people, we can only change how we react to them—make them see us in a different light.” Jessie sat back in her chair, and her face took on a determined gleam. “I decided if Kid ordered a wife from Europe, I’d meet her at the dock and put her back on the ship she sailed in on.”

  “What? Surely—”

  “No, he didn’t actually order one. It was a mind set I created. I also became determined to become the wife he wanted.” A smile lit her face, showing how absolutely beautiful she was. “It turned out, I didn’t need to change. I was the wife he wanted. He just hadn’t known it yet.”

  Eva grinned, happy for her friend that all turned out perfectly. “I’m sure it didn’t take you long to convince him.”

  “No, it didn’t,” Jessie admitted with a long, contented sigh.

  The sound stabbed Eva’s heart like a red hot needle. “That’s wonderful, Jessie. But I really don’t see how it has anything to do with Bug and I. He hates me. He’ll never forgive me for not telling him about Willamina.”

  “Well, that is serious. Bug loved her as much as the rest of us did, but, he loves you, too. And forgiveness only strengthens love.”

  Eva rose and walked over to dump out her once again cold coffee. She left the cup in the sink, her stomach was unsettled enough. “What if he never comes home, Jessie? Or if he does come home and brings a wife with him? I’ll never have the chance for him to forgive me.”

  “You think the woman that was with him might be his wife?”

  “I don’t know. They seemed awfully familiar with each other.”

  Jessie had spun about in her chair, mouth gapped open. “And you didn’t stick around long enough to find out?”

  Frustration made Eva snap, “I couldn’t.”

  “Like hell you couldn’t!” Jessie stomped across the room and grabbed Eva’s elbows. “I know you better than that. Some people may think you’re shy and quiet. But I know the real you. You’ve come through every blow life has given you as a stronger, more determined person. There isn’t anything you’re afraid of tackling.”

  “That’s only because I’ve had all of you to lean on. You, and Willamina, and Ma, even the men, you’ve all been there for me.”

  “And we still are. Always will be.”

  Eva broke free, moving across the room.

  Frustration churned inside her veins. She twirled around, facing Jessie again. “But this time is different. There’s nothing I can do.”

  “Oh, yes there is.”

  “What?” She flayed her arms in the air, feeling completely helpless. “What is there I can do this time? Bug’s in Pennsylvania. He has his oil! He has another woman!”

  “But he doesn’t have his family.” Jessie took her hands. “We both know he’ll be home. It’s already been too long.”

  “But what if she’s with him when he does come home? It’ll be too late for me. Probably already is.”

  Jessie cupped Eva’s cheeks, looking deep into her eyes. “Don’t wish for trouble, Eva. Don’t give it the opportunity to take hold, because then it will.

  Instead, focus on what you can do to welcome him home. Be here and be ready for him. Show him exactly what he left behind.”

  “What if he no longer wants what he left behind?”

  A deep growl emitted from Jessie, the sound completely out of place from someone so sweet and pretty. “Eva Robertson, you make me want to scream!”

  “I want to scream, too!” she shouted back.

  “Then do it!” Jessie yelled. “Scream until your chest burns and your throat is on fire!”

  J
essie’s shout made her irritation burst. Eva drew in a deep breath that built in her chest until her lungs were about to explode. Throwing her head back, she released the air and pent up frustration with a scream that must have driven the birds from their perches clear to Dodge. If any were left in the trees, the yell Jessie emitted would surely have sent the last ones flapping their wings.

  Their joined howls softened as the last bits of air seeped over their lips. Eva glanced to Jessie, and their eyes spoke. As one they took another deep breath and opened their mouths.

  This screech was interrupted as the back door flew open. Summer, waving a cocked pistol, flew into the house. “What? What did you see?” Flaying the gun in every direction, she hollered, “Where? Where is it?”

  Coughing and sputtering, Eva waved her arms.

  Unable to speak with the flames still racing along her vocal cords, she shook her head. “Nothing,” she squeaked, flinching at the pain in her throat.

  Summer glanced at her anxiously, before spinning about to stare at Jessie who collapsed on a chair in a fit of giggles. Releasing the hammer carefully, Summer set the pistol on the table. “And what, Mrs. Quinter, do you find so funny?” The smile on her face denied the tone of her voice.

  With one hand on her stomach, Jessie tipped her head back, looking up at Summer. “You, Mrs.

  Quinter, and the way you stormed through the Both women laughed, and Eva, smiling at their antics, experienced another wave of regret building in her chest. She wanted to be Mrs. Quinter, too.

  More than anything else on earth, that’s what she wanted.

  “So,” Summer said, resting both hands on her hips. “What’s going on here? What was all the screaming about?”

  “A tension releaser,” Jessie offered off-handedly.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Summer sat down, but her stare was on Eva. “I came to find out exactly what happened between you and Bug. And don’t tell me you didn’t see him. No matter what you said the other night, I know differently.”

  Eva took a breath. Whether it was due to the fact Summer was half Sioux, or because Jonas Quinter, the brothers’ father, was her guardian angel, somehow Summer had the uncanny ability to know things others didn’t—couldn’t. Afraid of what Summer did know, Eva attempted to bring up a different topic. “Where’s Drew?”

  Summer gave Jessie a knowing look before her dark-eyed gaze met Eva’s again. “Drew is two now, and lives his life planted on his father’s hip, following in Snake’s footsteps, or seated on the saddle in front of him. My baby is just fine, so don’t try to change the subject.”

  “Bug has a girlfriend,” Jessie stated so matter of fact that Eva’s heart jolted.

  “No!” Summer gushed. Her long black hair swished as she flipped her head to gawk at Jessie.

  Jessie nodded, and as one, the other two turned to stare at Eva.

  Her legs gave out. Grabbing the nearby chair, Eva planted her bottom on the seat and let her head fall onto the table top. “Yes,” she moaned into the wood.

  Someone smacked the table. Eva lifted to see who it was.

  Summer’s hand thumped the table again, and then she pointed at Eva. “Sit up, take a deep breath, and start at the beginning. I need to know everything. Every little detail.”

  Eva did as instructed, sat up and took a deep breath. As it exhaled, she flopped her head backwards, resting her neck on the top rung of the chair.

  “I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee,” Jessie said, standing up.

  “Make it tea, please.” Summer patted her slightly rounded stomach.

  Over a couple pots of tea, and the coffee cake Summer had carried in the basket she’d had looped over the arm not holding the gun when she burst through the door, Eva repeated her New York City adventure. This time with Summer’s gentle ways, she didn’t feel like screaming, instead a deep, enveloping gloom hovered around her shoulders.

  Summer stared across the table. “Oh, no,” she whispered.

  “What?” Jessie asked.

  A moment later, Summer was on her feet and pulling Eva from her chair. “Oh, no you don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” Eva asked. Drained of energy, she barely managed to stand.

  “There was a time when I was so depressed I didn’t want to get up in the mornings.” She hooked her arm through Eva’s. “Snake threw me in a tub of water.”

  “He didn’t?” Jessie asked, eyes round.

  “Yes, he did. Thank goodness. Something had to snap me out of it.” She nodded to Jessie. “Let’s go for a walk. The sunshine will do us all good.”

  They went out the back door and down the steps, arms hooked at the elbows like three schoolgirls. They walked past the flower garden in full bloom, to the center of the yard where the wind twisted their skirts and the sun kissed their faces.

  Eva lifted her chin, and closing her eyes, soaked up the rays.

  “I’m going to tell you what Buffalo Killer once told me,” Summer said.

  “Oh, what’s that?” Eva asked without opening an eyelid.

  “Don’t let someone, anyone, dead or alive, steal your joy.”

  Eva lowered her face and opened her eyes. The words seeped in, but their meaning eluded her. She had no joy. Blinking at the brightness, she let her eyes readjust and gazed about, at the blue sky, the field of waving, golden brown grasses, and the still standing, still solid, sod house she and Willamina had called home.

  She moved then, toward the tiny fence circling a single headstone. Right now she missed Willamina as badly as she had those first few days after her death. Jessie and Summer followed, and soon all three of them sat cross-legged beside the grave, plucking the weeds growing amongst the grass.

  “Bug’s not in love with that other woman,”

  Summer said, snapping the head off a yellow dandelion.

  “He’s not?” Hope rose in Eva’s chest. Quelling the optimism, she asked, “How do you know?”

  Summer’s smile was soft and sweet. “The same way you know.” She patted her stomach. “That little part of all us that knows right from wrong. Good from bad. It tells me Bug loves you.”

  Eva tossed aside a weed and watched as it fought the wind to find a place to land. “The only thing I know is she was very beautiful and by the looks of her clothes, very rich.”

  “You’re very rich, too,” Jessie offered.

  “Do you really think Bug cares that much about money?” Summer asked. “He loved you long before you were rich.”

  Eva let out a false laugh. “People change.” Her gaze went to the waving field of summer grass. “The only thing about Bug that will never change is oil.

  He’s loved it for years. Probably always will.” She lifted a hand. “You can’t see them, but that field is full of little markers he’d set out. Places he swore oil flowed deep beneath the ground.”

  An eerie feeling made Eva turn to the other two women. Jessie and Summer stared at each other, as if they were silently communicating. The eeriness grew. Eva was somewhat afraid, but still had to ask, “W-what are you two thinking?”

  Jessie turned to Eva. “Did Bug ever say exactly how they get the oil out of the ground?”

  Frowning, Eva answered, “Derricks and pipes.”

  Summer was chewing on her bottom lip. “Snake won’t be starting wheat harvest for a month or more.”

  Nodding, Jessie added, “Kid must have a book on how to build a derrick.”

  Eva waved a finger between the two. “What are you thinking?”

  “If Bug wants oil, give him oil,” Summer said.

  “Right here in your backyard,” Jessie added.

  “I don’t know anything about oil,” Eva admitted.

  “This isn’t about oil, Eva,” Jessie assured. “It’s about the man you love.” ****

  Bug followed the constable down the hall, never once letting his gaze bounce to the cells he passed.

  He didn’t want to see the faces
of the men he’d heard crying deep in the night. Their late night whimpers would stick with him long enough. There was no need for images to join the sounds.

  At the end of the hall, the constable pulled open a door and gave Bug a shove toward the stairs.

  Pebbles poked through his socks as he climbed. At the top of the stairway, an alcove was littered with boots of every shape and size.

  “Find a pair,” the constable said.

  Bug scanned, but the sheer number made finding the ones that one day had been his impossible—besides the fact that every boot was scuffed and worn. His had been fairly new, and as far as he could see, not included in the pile. He picked up two boots that might be a pair, then again, might not. They fit, and would serve their purpose until he could purchase a new pair.

  The constable then led him to another door and threw it open. It was like going from night to day, not only did sunlight fill the room, but the dankness and dirt from the lower floor was replaced with polished marble and whitewashed walls.

  Bug squared his shoulders, encouraging the change to wash over him as well, and strolled beside the constable across the room and down another hallway. The man opened a door and waved a hand.

  “Jack!” Bug rushed forward. “Damn, it’s good to see you.”

  Jack held his hand out, but Bug brushed it aside to give the man a good hug. Laughing, Jack hugged him back, but then said, “It’s not over yet, Bug.”

  “I know, but…” He gave a low whistle. “It’s bad down there.”

  “I’m sure it is. Come on, the Judge wants to see us in his chambers.” Jack led the way across the room and pulled open yet another door.

  The man sitting behind a big desk was dressed in black, completely bald, and frowning. All in all, he reminded Bug of a school teacher he once had. His stomach quivered as if it was full of grasshoppers.

  “Gentlemen, please, take a seat,” the Judge said, slipping on a pair of round, wire-rimmed glasses.

  Bug glanced around the room, taking in the wood-paneled walls and thick leather furniture. He stepped around a chair and lowered himself onto the cushion.

  “Judge Holden, I see your painting arrived,”

  Jack said.

  Glancing up, Bug froze.

  Hanging above the Judge’s head was a painting of cowboys branding young stock. The men in the picture caught and held his attention. It was Kid and his foreman, old Joe.