Jackson waited until they got home before scolding Heath, and he'd made the boy spend the night in the barn as punishment. After Heath stalked to the barn, his shoulders hunched against the wind, Jackson spent the night on the porch, watching the barn. He'd whittled the little figure before exhaustion finally claimed him.
In the morning, Heath stood before him holding the wooden figure. He'd cried and apologized for his misdeeds, and he asked for the dog. He still kept it by his bed, even after all these years.
It wasn't the last time his brother had tried him. The stubborn boy always had to learn his lessons the hard way. Although Jackson kept him busy with chores and schooling, he still managed to get into trouble.
Yes, he loved his brother, and would give his life for Heath. Just like he had no doubt Heath would do the same for him.
Heath fidgeted and winced, bringing Jackson out of his musings. He opened his eyes and glared at Jackson. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Although his brother tried to sound normal, his words were slurred slightly. Doc had probably given him enough opium to put him to sleep for a good long while.
"Go to sleep, Heath," Jackson replied. "We'll talk later."
"I'm... I'm not sleepy." Heath eyes were already closing. A few minutes later, his mouth went slack.
The doctor stood in the doorway, a cup of coffee in his hand. "He'll be in and out for most of the day." He lifted the cup. "I made enough for you, too. I'm going to check on another patient, and I'll be back later to see how Heath's doing." The man's gaze lingered on Heath for a beat. "He's strong, Jackson. Don't fret too much."
After the doctor left, Jackson made his way to the front room, which doubled as a kitchen. He drank the bitter liquid and peered outside.
It was early yet, and the town streets were quiet. At noticing the Four Winds Hotel, his chest tightened.
Adeline.
Why?
Chapter Thirteen
Heath stared at his bedroom ceiling. Once again Jackson had fallen asleep in the chair by the bed. His damn brother refused to leave the room since he'd arrived the day before. Except when he needed get food or take care of personal necessities, he sat there and watched over him.
There was no question; he loved his brother. After all, the man had raised him from the time he was six, when their mother died. Heath appreciated how he refused to budge, but Jackson had a new wife, and he had to be exhausted from the cattle drive. He needed to be home with Adeline and getting some much-needed rest. Heath purposely groaned louder than necessary just to watch his brother's head pop up.
His brother's eyes narrowed at his wide grin.
"I need some water."
Jackson mumbled something incoherent, got up, and headed to the front room. Heath almost felt bad.
"Oh, on second thought, is there any bread in there? I'd like some coffee and bread," he called after Jackson. His smile grew wider when his brother grunted in response.
"As much as you eat, you should be up and about by now," Jackson snapped.
A couple more days of this and Jackson will have had enough, and he'll return home where he should be. Although Heath was a bit surprised to find Adeline had not come to see about him, he didn't mention it.
Something was wrong with Jackson. Heath knew it. His brother was not the anxious type, instead more the easy-going, relaxed sort, but nothing was relaxed about him lately. He knew it was partly due to worrying about him, but that wasn't all. When he'd asked Jackson about Adeline, a pained expression flashed across his brother's face, and he'd replied with a non-committal shrug.
Judge Maphis walked into the room behind Jackson. Heath almost laughed at noticing the judge wore his old gun belt slung low on his hip. "Hell of a way to get time off, Pruitt." The man's gruff voice did not disguise the twinkle in his eye from the glee of serving as temporary sheriff of Four Winds.
"Who shot ya?"
The question without any preamble made Heath clamp his jaw tight. A ghost. "I don't know him. Didn't recognize him."
"Not from town then?"
Heath shook his head. "I made a stupid mistake -- one I'll never make again. Should have checked the drunk man for a weapon before dragging him to the jailhouse."
"Damn, brother, that mistake almost got you killed." Jackson handed him the cup of coffee. "Doesn't sound like you."
"Yeah well, like I said, a stupid mistake."
The judge went to the window and peered out. "Earl is out there pacing like a wild animal. The man has little common sense, but he's loyal to you and chomping at the bit to go after whoever hurt you."
"The shooter is long gone. No one's going to catch up to him now."
The judge did not comment and turned back to study him. "Can you describe the man? Tell me all you remember."
Heath breathed deeply. He wasn't sure what his reply would be. He needed to keep the information to himself until he figured out what to do, but at the same time, he had to give them enough information to not raise suspicions. He looked away from the men to the ceiling in thought.
"Tall, just a bit shorter than me, medium-built. He had light-colored hair, mostly grey. Blue eyes, full beard with bushy mustache. No distinguishing marks I could see. He had the bleary-eyed appearance of a long-time drunk."
Judge Maphis glanced out the window when he heard Earl loudly addressing the group outside. "Durn fool is making matters worse with all that hollerin'." He turned his attention to Heath. "How did the shooting happen?"
"The man got himself thrown out of the saloon and lay in the street until I spotted him. He wasn't steady on his feet, so I had to hold him up to walk. I dragged him into the jailhouse office and kicked the door shut. At the sound of the slamming door, he went berserk and began struggling. He drew a gun and told me to open the door and let him out. It was the strangest thing, like he couldn't walk over and open it on his own for whatever reason. I told him to settle down and he shot me."
"He sure as hell was able to open the door afterwards," Jackson replied, his face mottled with an angry flush. "The bastard probably thought he killed you."
Heath fought not to doze off, but his eyes had obviously closed because he opened them. Judge Maphis had moved closer and now studied him for a moment, "I don't reckon there's anything else needs to be said."
His heavy eyelids closed again, but he wasn't asleep. The sounds of footsteps leaving relieved him. The judge's words were truer than the man knew.
Nothing else could be said.
Things had not happened exactly as Heath told the judge and his brother. The man was drunk, and the description he'd given them was right, except for the fact he'd recognized the stranger. At least he thought he did. When they'd locked gazes, he'd seen the same eyes as his and Jackson's. Was it possible?
At Heath's close study, the man sobered, and took a step backward. He drew his gun and pointed it at Heath, telling him to move from the door.
Then things began to move in slow motion. Heath reached for his gun, taking for granted the man's reflexes would be slow from drink. They weren't. The shot rang out and the man grunted and took a step toward Heath, who slumped to the floor, fighting not to black out.
He'd looked up to see bleary eyes pinning him, then widening at the bloodstain growing on the front of Heath's shirt. When the man lifted his gun the second time Heath expected him to shoot to kill, but instead he'd holstered it and walked out.
"Don't die." Then he'd turned from the doorway and swallowed, staring at Heath's wound. "I'm sorry, son."
"Judge is gone." Heath pried his eyes open to regard his brother. Jackson leaned on the doorjamb. There were lines etched on Jackson's forehead and dark circles from lack of sleep under his eyes.
"You need to go home," Heath told him. "I can take care of myself. If I need help, Earl is here. He can come in and make himself useful, instead of out there raising dust with his lips."
Jackson studied him for a long moment. "There's something you're not saying. I raised you, boy, s
o I know your tell signs."
"There's something you're not saying either," Heath rebuffed. "What happened between you and Adeline?"
"Not a damn thing I want to talk about," Jackson replied as he neared the bed; he held out his hand and Heath took it. Heath couldn't stop a moan from escaping when Jackson heaved him forward and stuck another pillow behind his back. Gingerly, he sunk into them and closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to recede.
"Yeah, I can see you're doing real well," Jackson grumbled. "I'm going across the street to get something to eat. Want something?"
Heath nodded. "Yeah, anything's fine, thanks."
After hearing the front door close behind Jackson, Heath slid his legs to the side of the bed and cursed; the twisting action hurt so much he saw stars. He pushed forward and sat for a minute, waiting for the pain to subside so he could attempt to stand. The sooner he recovered, the faster Jackson could go home and take care of whatever happened at the homestead.
Yes, he needed to get better so he could find the man who'd shot him and ask him some questions. Namely, why he'd come back after twenty-two years. Or maybe he would not ask him anything.
Maybe he'd just kill him.
Jackson walked into the Four Winds hotel, past the reception desk, and into the dining area. As soon as he sat down, Lila, the hotel owner's wife, brought him a cup of coffee. "How's your brother doing?" concern etched the corners of her tightly-held mouth.
"Ordering me around, so he's doing a lot better," Jackson told her, watching her expression relax. The young woman nodded. "Well, good. You eating here or would you like me to pack it up?"
"I'll eat here, I think. I'll take Heath something back."
After he ordered, Jackson drank his coffee. He purposely sat with his back to the lobby, not wanting to face the spot where he'd stood holding Adeline the day they got married. Several diners glanced toward him, but none made any attempt to come near. His appearance, coupled with his foreboding expression, was probably not the most inviting.
He wore a rumpled shirt he'd dug out of his brother's trunk after washing up that morning. He'd not taken a full bath in weeks and hadn't shaved since he'd left for Oklahoma. Top that off with his brooding, angry face, and it was no wonder people decided to give him space. Right now he was thankful for it.
Chapter Fourteen
Dusk made the shadows loom across a narrow street in Memphis. Adeline shuffled away from the dilapidated shanty where she lived with Billy and another man. She didn't know where Billy was, nor did she care.
Nothing mattered much, Adeline didn't even bother looking over her shoulder. If someone saw her, she'd know soon enough. If somehow she managed to escape, she'd be more surprised than anyone.
She yanked her threadbare skirts up to keep from tripping on the hem. Even with a rope tied around the waist, they slipped down her narrow hips. She'd lost too much weight.
The fog had finally begun to lift from her mind a few days earlier. With increasing clarity came the startling realization that she could no longer live this way. The awareness she had to leave, to escape from Billy, stirred her to act. At this point, it didn't matter where she went. Anything was better than her current predicament. She only wanted to get away from Billy Johnson.
Without Jackson, nothing else mattered.
The night before, Billy had come home with a woman. When their bulk darkened the bedroom doorway, the smell of alcohol reached Adeline before he even spoke. A soft giggle drew her attention an overly-made-up woman tucked under his arm. "Get the hell out of here, Adeline. I need to spend some time with a real woman."
When she darted from the room, he called after her. "Don't leave this house either, or I'll find you and kill you this time."
She had sat in the front room for a couple of hours listening to the sounds of Billy and the woman having sex, glad he no longer touched her.
Now the sound of horses' hooves made her scurry faster, her heart hammered in her chest, and she quickened her steps.
A rough hand grabbed her arm, yanked her around, and slammed her against a tree. It was one of Billy's friends. "Well, Adeline, where are you off to?"
He pressed his body against hers, and she fought to keep her revulsion hidden. "I'm going to get some food for dinner," she lied.
Eyes hooded, the man licked his lips and didn't move away from her. "I wonder how long before he comes lookin' for you. We might have time for a little lovin'."
Just as his mouth touched hers, she lifted her knee and hit him between the legs. The man howled and released her to cup himself. Adeline hitched up her skirts and ran but a few feet before he tackled her to the ground.
A sharp pain blinded her and then blackness descended.
She woke to find herself lying on her own lumpy bed in Billy's house. Frustrated tears slipped down her cheeks onto the threadbare blanket under her. Each day there was a different obstacle making it impossible to leave and get away from Billy. Perhaps she should give up and accept her fate. Was this her lot in life, what she deserved? Her punishment for the lie she'd told?
Jackson, where are you? I need you. I'm trapped.
She wouldn't give up. Somehow she'd find a way to leave, if only for her baby's sake. It wouldn't be fair to raise a child with the likes of Billy and his friends. What she needed now was faith the opportunity would present itself. She just had to bide her time.
Returning to her familiar way of escape, she visualized the day she and Jackson had spent time out by the creek. How he'd looked at her, the warmth in his blue eyes, which never left her while he undressed unashamed before her. They'd made love with abandon, their bodies rejoicing in their new marriage. She’d felt treasured. It was a day Adeline would never forget. The day he'd asked her to tell him everything.
If only she had.
How could things have gone so bad?
She began making plans and discarding them. Maybe she could find a way to go home. No, her father wouldn't allow her in. If she managed to find her way to Mae's house, it was possible she could work there, help Miss Lady with the house, and maybe save money for when the baby came.
And then what?
At least here with Billy she had a roof over her head and food to eat, not that she ate much most days. Half the time, he forgot to bring something home for her to cook.
Billy stood over her now, and with resignation she waited for Billy to speak. "Herman told me you tried to get him to help you run away by laying with him."
"I did not." Adeline replied, her words flat, not caring if Billy believed her or not..
"Well, he says different. I'm keeping an eye on you, Adeline. Don't think you can escape and go back to Texas to that man -- Jackson, was it? Well, he don't want you anymore."
At her silence, he grabbed her wrist and jerked her to a sitting position. "You hear me? You're mine, and that's the way it's going to stay."
She met his stare. "What happened to you, Billy? You were not like this when we first met. Why did you really come after me? You don't love me."
His gaze shifted away from hers, and he sat down on the bed. When he looked at her again, his eyes were narrowed. "We were engaged."
"You had relations with other women. You were not ready to settle down. Billy, please, I'm married to Jackson Pruitt, let me go to my husband."
Billy changed the subject. "You know, I would rather just be with you, but having relations with you is like being with a corpse -- you just lie there. I brought that woman here because I want to have some fun."
"I am married to someone else, and I can't bear to be unfaithful. I love my husband."
The slap across her face sent her backwards onto the bed. Adeline cupped her burning cheek.
"Shut up, Adeline!" Billy screamed. "You ain't goin' nowhere! I'm the same as I've always been. Maybe you just didn't take the time to get to know me." Grabbing her shoulders, he yanked her to him, his mouth attempting to crush hers, but she turned her face away.
"Why don't we return to Virgini
a, then? Why don't we go home?"
"I decide where we go and what we do." His face turned red. "There isn't anything for me in Virginia; my father has made it clear Rush is the one going to get it all. Why should I even bother to help out? I'm not going to put my sweat into something going to go to my brother.
"I'm pregnant," Adeline blurted.
As if burned, Billy pushed her away and jumped to his feet. "Lying bitch. You can't be."
He stormed from the room. Adeline wasn't sure if he left the house until a cold draft moved over her. She went to the front room and saw he had gone without bothering to close the front door.
It was dark outside, nighttime. Her stomach growled, she'd not eaten since having some beans and a stale piece of bread earlier in the day. Adeline went to the stove and shoved wood into it to start a fire. There wasn't anything to eat, so she'd boil water and make coffee.
Chapter Fifteen
Not just his home, but also his entire life was in shambles. An exaggeration perhaps, but to Jackson it felt very real.
At least Heath would recover. That hard-headed brother of his had finally succeeded in running him off. Heath was already back at work, too. Not quite able to mount a horse yet, his brother was sitting behind his desk with his feet up when Jackson left for home.
Although the frigid ride back to his house demanded he hurry inside and seek warmth, Jackson stood at the closed door, with his hand on the knob, not ready to go inside. With a fortifying breath, he pushed the door open to face the destruction he'd left.
He opened the door and stepped inside. It was hard to miss the fact the kitchen had been tidied. His breath caught and he rushed past the clean kitchen into the bedroom. It was also pristine, everything in its place, the floors swept.
Had Adeline returned? Jackson went to Heath's room next. Unlike the other rooms, this one remained the same, the bed still crumpled from when Heath had slept in it last.
Where The Four Winds Collide Page 10