Where The Four Winds Collide

by Hildie McQueen

  Jackson grumbled in his sleep and his head lulled to the side in an awkward angle. Adeline leaned forward and cradled his nape, lifting it she placed one of her pillows beneath his head against the carriage wall so he could lean into it. His eyes flew open and for a moment they only stare at each other. His lips curved upward, the slight move causing her to flush. "Thank you," he mumbled and promptly he fell back asleep.

  Her heart pounding Adeline straightened. Stupid, stupid, stupid, don't do it, she scolded her foolish heart. It's not safe to soften. Needing to concentrate on something other than her sleeping husband, Adeline reached for a book and began to read.

  "Are you hungry?" Jackson shook Adeline gently. She'd fallen asleep with the book in her lap. She glanced at the napkin he held out to her. It held cheese, bread and a cored apple. Immediately her mouth watered. Between the sleeping and eating, her energy had surged, but she still had a long way to go to regain her weight and health. She pushed up to a more comfortable position and took the food he offered.

  "How much longer?"

  Jackson peered out the window, "An hour, maybe two. We should be home before it's too dark."

  Adeline followed his line of vision. The sun was setting, its rays expanding to the heavens in a beautiful mix of yellows and reds. The horizon took on a purplish hue behind the darkened trees.

  "It's a beautiful sight isn't it?" Jackson asked, without turning to her. He'd avoided looking at her directly for the last few days.

  "Yes," she replied placing the rest of her meal to the side and picking up her book. She nibbled on the meal while reading to avoid further conversation.

  She wanted to talk to him, wanted to ask him so many questions, but she did not trust herself yet. It was too soon, her emotions were raw and she feared lacking the ability to confront him.

  It shocked her how much she craved Jackson's comfort, she wanted to be held, but at the same time when she considered intimacy, a tremble of anxiety shook her. The memories of Billy's harsh treatment loomed.

  And then there was her heart; it rebelled against the wall she tried without much progress to form around it. She was weak, especially when it came to Jackson. Right now she was vulnerable and defenseless against the strength of her feelings for him. Perhaps she'd talk to Peggy-Ann, ask her how to keep from caring too much? No, her friend was madly in love with her own husband, and he loved her as much. Besides, Peggy Ann would in all probability side with Jackson. After all they were childhood friends, all of them.

  An outsider is what she was. To all of them she was the woman Jackson had married thinking to be his mail-order bride. In all fairness, fate had been unkind to him; he was saddled with a wife who had a shameful past and whom he couldn't trust.

  Adeline sighed and slid her gaze to Jackson. He mimicked her position and read while eating his meal. Seeming to feel her perusal, he raised his eyes from his book. The warmth in the pools of blue made her swallow and look away. "

  Would you like something Adeline?" he asked in a husky voice.

  "Where did you put the water canteen?" She scrambled for a reason to be observing him. "I don't see it from here."

  Jackson scanned the coach and shrugged. He bent down to pull the trunk from under the seat. His movements brought him closer and his side touched her legs. The sensation jolted her system and Adeline froze gritting her teeth.

  Finally, he straightened and handed her a canteen, his eyes boring into hers. She drank deeply from the container, her parched throat having more to do with the man before her than actual thirst.

  He'd only slept in the bed with her once in the hotel when she'd been too ill to react. Since then, he slept on the floor or in one of the chairs. Although she knew he was giving her time to recover and get used to his presence, she didn't have any illusion of where he'd sleep once they got home. They'd share a bed again.

  Hard as it was to keep her heart shielded in his presence, she didn't know if she could when they shared the same bed. He was her husband and had rights to her body, and she would not deny him. But what about her heart? She would never recover from a second heartbreak. Somehow, she'd have to learn to protect herself, ensure she could take care of herself if ever Jackson decided to send her away.

  "We're on Pruitt lands," Jackson told her leaning forward peering out

  "Once I get you settled in the house, I'll see about the horses and this coach." For the first time since entering the coach, he looked around the space his eyebrows raised. "I can't say I've ever been in one this nice."

  "I can get myself settled, I've had plenty of time to rest and feel well enough," Adeline protested. "Let Heath and Lucas help you, so you can get some sleep."

  Jackson's eyes widen at her first attempt at conversation and only nodded in response.

  Drawing her gaze away, Adeline looked out to the darkening sky. The dark outlines of the familiar buildings came into view; she swallowed to avoid sighing as tears stung her eyelids.

  Home.

  If only it meant happiness and peace. She vividly recalled the last time she'd ever felt truly happy. Those few days with Jackson before he left for the cattle drive were as close as she'd ever been, even with the cloud of her lie hanging over them.

  A couple of hours later, after bathing, Jackson had fallen into a fatigued slumber. Adeline sat at the kitchen table and studied the bare room restraining the urge to move about and examine the contents of the shelves and larder.

  Heath would be staying with them still recovering from his injury and she was glad for it. His presence would help the awkwardness lingering between Jackson and her. It didn't matter, with or without his brother's presence Adeline's mind was made up. She'd take things slow and gauge Jackson's motivation. Once she understood his true reason for bringing her back, whether guilt or actual caring then Adeline would know where she stood.

  No matter what, her husband would not have reason to complain of his wife, she would be a good companion to him. With discipline and constant reminders of him sending her away she'd fight to keep from ever going through the pain of heartache, she would protect her heart above all else. The next few days would be hard, but Adeline hoped once they got accustomed to a routine, each day would become easier in their new start together.

  Chapter Twenty

  Days later, Heath sat on the front porch of Jackson's house and tried to ignore the pulsing wound on the side of his chest. Still he couldn't stop the grimace at the sharp pain when he leaned over to pick up the oiled cloth from the porch floor. His entire body felt stiff and too warm, Heath figured he had a slight fever. Thankfully the crisp air outside was refreshing.

  It was too soon after his injury to have gone on a two-day ride to find Jackson, and he paid the price now. No matter, he was glad they'd done it. If Lucas and he had not come up to him when they'd done, Jackson could have gotten hurt.

  Thankfully Jackson had sent a telegram on the day he was returning.

  The man was half dazed with exhaustion. His intuition to go in search of Jackson had paid off. Not knowing how Jackson fared, he wouldn't have been able to recover in peace. And now settled in the house, he planned to do just that.

  Heath planned to stay a few more days. If he were needed in town, the judge would send Earl. Not that he would be much good to them at the moment. Even the thought of mounting brought a new round of throbs.

  He leaned forward and took shallow breaths waiting for the pain to recede.

  When he straightened, he found Jackson standing in the doorway watching him. "Instead of sitting out here in the cold, you should bring your foolish hide inside," Jackson scolded eyeing the revolver Heath was cleaning. "It can wait, you need to get some rest."

  "I'm almost done," Heath replied not liking the tight worry lines around his brother's mouth. "I've been inside for too long, I needed to get outdoors. You know I can't abide being cooped up for long."

  Jackson sat on the porch step and looked away into the darkness. "The days are getting shorter. It's going to be a
cold winter."

  Spending the last few days at the Pruitt ranch had proved difficult for Heath. The strain between Adeline and Jackson was hard to witness.

  “She'll come around, give her time." Even as he spoke, he wondered if his once lively sister-in-law would ever be the same again. "She seems to be settling into her routine. The stew she fixed tonight was very good. And she baked bread too."

  "Yeah," Jackson replied, his tone flat. "I will give her all the time she needs. If I had just listened to her, this would not have happened."

  "Blaming yourself won't do any good either. You understand?"

  "I know, but it's the truth."

  Heath let the subject drop. His knowledge on relationships was limited, as he preferred to keep to himself. If the need arose, he stuck to Luciana, a saucy saloon girl who never demanded more than payment.

  Jackson studied him for a moment. "I've never kept any secrets from you Heath. So I'm going to tell you something I considered keeping to myself."

  Pushing past the tightening in his chest, Heath swallowed through the sudden dryness in this throat. "Is something wrong with you?"

  "No nothing like that." His brother stood and paced away from him. When he turned the storm in his eyes made Heath's heart twist in fear.

  "Damn it Jackson tell me. I don't know what to think right now."

  "I saw Jack Pruitt."

  All the air left his lungs. Heath tried to maintain a calm façade even though he was sure the pulsing of his blood rushing through his veins throbbed visibly. Even the air stalled as he lifted his eyes to Jackson.

  "What?"

  "You heard me."

  "Where?"

  Jackson let out a breath he seemed to have been holding. "In Memphis."

  Heath stood and placed his hand on the shoulder of the only father he'd ever known and stared into his eyes. "Did you kill him?"

  Tormented eyes met his. "What I did was worse."

  When Jackson hung his head and closed his eyes tight, Heath waited to allow him time. "I saved his miserable life. I should have let the carriage run him over. I would have actually, had I known who it was."

  "I don't blame you," Heath blew out a slow breath. Jack Pruitt was far way and Jackson had not committed murder. "I hate him with every fiber of my being. He deserves a violent death."

  "He doesn't rate so much from you," Jackson replied. "I'm sorry to tell you about my run in with him, I wasn't sure what was the right thing to do. I mean he's your father too and you have a right to decide if you'd like to go find him."

  "Find him?" Heath hadn't meant to yell, but the words burst from him. "If it had been me in Memphis, I would have killed him after recognizing the son of a bitch. Probably would have waited for another carriage and pushed his carcass under it for double measure. Sometimes I dream of it, how it would feel good to choke the life out of him."

  "He hurt you," Jackson began, but Heath interrupted.

  "You don't understand, I don't hate him for what he did to me. Thanks to you, I had a good childhood Jackson. You were my protector, a better father than many I've known in my life. You ensured I was fed and clothed. Made sure I never went without, because you gave up everything for me. No I don't hate him because he left us. What I despise the man for is what he did to you. He stole your childhood, you're freedom. I will never forgive him."

  Jackson shook his head, a soft smile curving his lips. "You never stop surprising me little brother. All this time I figured you saw me as an imposing tyrant." Jackson's chuckle was a welcome sound.

  "Well I still find you smothering and oppressive at times." Heath acknowledged, "What the hell I might as well tell you." He held Jackson's gaze, "I admire you more than I can ever explain. I have always been proud to have you as both my father and my brother."

  Jackson shifted away to hide his shining eyes. "He asked about you."

  The bastard probably wanted to know if I was dead. "What did you tell him?"

  "Hell I don't even remember. I don't think I replied, but instead I told him it was too late to be asking about how you fare." Jackson raked his fingers through his hair. "But it got me thinking. You have a right to decide, you know, to see about him if you wish. I won't stop you or make the decision for you. And Heath..."

  "No."

  "Hear me out now." Jackson insisted. "If you decide to go see about him, I won't hold it against you. He's dying. He's not quite right, probably drinking himself crazy or something. Had the dazed dour look of someone already too far gone. His eyes and skin were yellowed with jaundice. He even smelled of death."

  Admiration for Jackson swelled. "If I were to see him it will be to help him get gone faster. No I don't need to see him. Somehow knowing he's dying makes me feel better." Heath watched his brother nod, understanding his lack of consideration for a man he barely remembered. At the same time, he pushed past the guilt at not telling Jackson the truth about the shooting. About how he suspected it was Jack Pruitt who shot him. The night he'd let his guard down, been too shocked at recognizing the man, to avoid being shot at. If Jack Pruitt was indeed insane, it explained his reaction to the possibility of being locked up in a cell.

  "What about you Jackson? How do you feel about seeing him again?"

  The shrug was slow. "I guess at first I was too surprised to feel anything. Angry and confused would probably cover it. Mad at him for, well for having the gall to cross my path and at myself for not planting my fist into his face."

  They sat in silence, both men contemplating their own feelings regarding Jack Pruitt.

  Heath finished cleaning his gun while Jackson began to whittle. He smiled in spite of what they'd spoken about. "Hey Jackson remember when you whittled me a girl statue and handed it to me. You told me it was the closest you wanted me to a woman until after I turned sixteen?"

  "Yeah," Jackson chuckled. "You were running crazy after Peggy Ann's sister or cousin. Which one was it?"

  "Her sister Molly. And she was the one chasing me."

  "Either way, I didn't want you getting into trouble with their father, Matt Lawton, the man had no sense of humor when it came to his daughters."

  Heath let out a loud laugh. “I sat in my bedroom staring at the blasted wooden doll. I was so damn mad you didn't let me go to the barn dance. I cried like a girl. Bet you didn't know it."

  "Yeah I did," Jackson replied in a quiet voice. "I was standing on the other side of the door. Almost folded and let you go. But then you threw the doll against the door so hard it not only made me mad, it scared me half to death."

  They both laughed at the memory of the night until they had to hold their sides.

  Heath sobered first, his hands over his wound. "Hell if I'd known you were there, I would have cried louder."

  "I should have dragged your crying sad self to the dance with puffy red eyes. I would have liked to see how Molly would have reacted, probably wouldn't want to dance with you then."

  "True," Heath agreed. "Not a pretty sight." Jackson shook his head, a smile lingered.

  "You know I still took her for a tumble later that summer." Heath wiggled his brows at the shocked look his brother threw him.

  "I didn't need to know about it Heath."

  "Sorry, but no secrets remember?"

  Jackson, always the responsible one, frowned in displeasure at Heath.

  As far as Heath knew Jackson only had one serious girlfriend and the relationship didn't last after his brother caught the young woman spanking him for something or other. Lord knew he probably deserved it, bad as he was as a child.

  His brother may have punished him the night of the barn dance, worrying he'd get in trouble with Molly Lawton, but he'd also had to stay home himself. Twenty-two at the time, he was sure Jackson had wanted to attend the dance himself. No Heath would never tell Jackson the truth about Jack Pruitt. One thing he was sure about, Jackson loved him and would protect him against any one he thought might hurt him. Even their own father. Hell, especially him. If Heath told his over protect
ive brother Jack Pruitt shot him, Jackson would ride to Memphis and kill the bastard, if only to ensure Heath was safe.

  It was a wonder Jackson had not sabotaged his decision to become the sheriff. Heath scratched his head wondering how he'd managed it.

  Jackson seemed to read his mind. "You know since you are hurt, you should consider moving back here. You being the sheriff of Four Winds hasn't bothered me much until now. I mean other than drunken brawls; this small town has always been peaceful. But now, hell, you need to come home. Judge can handle it until someone else takes the job. We can build you a house..."

  "No." Heath got up and stormed into the house.

  Over protective idiot.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  "You sure have been reserved and distant toward Jackson," Peggy Ann told Adeline, studying her.

  Her shrug gave her more time to think of an explanation. "I..."

  Peggy Ann held up her hand to keep Adeline quiet. "I understand you're hurt and feel he betrayed you. But I also think you are being very unfair. You need to consider how by not trusting Jackson, you are keeping yourself from being happy too."

  "Don't you understand? What I am doing is keeping myself safe. You'd do the same wouldn't you?" Adeline's stubborn answer earned her a glare from Peggy-Ann.

  During the last week she and Jackson had arrived at an arrangement of sorts. Stronger every day, Adeline returned to her chores ensuring dinner was prepared for both Jackson and Heath. At day's end a hot bath was ready for Jackson when he came home and his clothes were cleaned and mended.

  After dinner, he'd help her with cleaning up, ignoring her protests and at bedtime, he would remain in the kitchen reading or cleaning his gun until she went to bed. Many nights he would not come to bed until after he thought she was asleep and always left enough space between them so they didn't touch. Amazingly Adeline became so accustomed to his large body in the bed she did not go to sleep until he lay down.

  In the morning he'd usually be gone when she woke, never demanding she get up and prepare breakfast. Adeline accepted the chasm between she and her husband and although she missed his touch and his easy smile, she preferred this to leaving herself open to hurt.