Where The Four Winds Collide

Home > Romance > Where The Four Winds Collide > Page 18
Where The Four Winds Collide Page 18

by Hildie McQueen


  "Perfectly fine," Jessie pulled her arm from Heath's grasp jutted out her chin and brushed past the judge. "Mr. Pruitt and I have come to an agreement."

  "Is that so?" The judge directed a questioning stare at Heath. "What are the terms of your agreement?"

  Jessica turned and met Heath's gaze, immediately his pulse raced. "Mr. Pruitt and I will be married by spring."

  "Oh." The judge looked to Heath for a reaction. He remained frozen, his mouth open. Judge Maphis moved from the doorway as Jessie pushed past him.

  "If you'll excuse me gentlemen, I have an appointment with the seamstress."

  "What have you done?" the judge asked when his again fiancée left, both men watched her cross the street towards the hotel. "You agreed to marry her? Heath I worked hard to get her to agree to the teaching position after you fought so hard to get out of the marriage. She was willing to consider returning to Roanoke without marrying."

  "I don't know what happened, but I found myself demanding she marry me." Heath raked his hands over his face. "Something took over me, I didn't want her to leave or worse, marry someone else."

  The judge laughed. "Women, it's what they do, tangle us all up until we barely remember our own name."

  "Yeah," Heath replied and collapsed into his chair. "Now judge you may have to cover for me longer. I have to get my house built."

  Judge puffed out his chest and pressed his finger on the tin star. "It won't be a problem. Ol' Earl and I can handle this town."

  Heath shook his head and laughed this time.

  "I can see that."

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It was late afternoon and the sun was already heading down to hide in the horizon. Jackson stood next to his horse on a ridge overlooking the expanse of land to the west of his house.

  Cattle grazed lazily while he scanned over them. The herd would head towards the stables once the sun fell. Although it had been unseasonably warm the last few days, soon the grass would dry up from the winter cold and the animals would have to be fed hay. Jackson turned to study the opposite land. Perhaps it would be a good site for Heath to build a house. His brother had surprised him when he'd mentioned thinking about settling down. As it should be, they would both raise their families here on Pruitt land.

  A lone horseman neared, the large man rode at a leisurely pace toward him. It was Beauchamp Wilson, who he'd not seen since the cattle incident. Whatever the man was up to, it wasn't good by the grim set of his face. His lips tight and brow drawn together, Wilson finally reined his horse next to Jackson's and dismounted.

  "Here," he held out a burlap bag. "It's money, take it."

  "Why are you giving me money?" Jackson reached for the bag and held it at arms length. "I don't understand."

  Wilson looked away and studied the cattle for a beat. "Thomas took your cows. I didn't want to believe it. I suppose I was too angry to look into the matter the day you and your brother came by." The man shot him an annoyed glance. "And being you boys have always argued about one thing or another, I didn't take it seriously. But I won't abide thieving and I won't stand by and turn a blind eye to it."

  "You're an honorable man Mr. Wilson," Jackson told him holding out his free hand.

  The man shook his hand. "Something I hoped to pass to my sons. I don't think Thomas will cause any more trouble for a while." He shook his head. "He's laid up, was trampled by a bull. It will be a miracle if he walks again."

  "I'm sorry," Jackson told him meaning it. "I hope he recovers."

  Both stood quiet for a few minutes. Jackson didn't recall Mr. Wilson being friends or coming around his home when he was growing up. After his father had left, he'd come by and help Jackson several times when they'd built the stables. "What can you tell me about Jack Pruitt?" he asked the man whose eyebrows shot up in surprise.

  "You must remember him boy, you weren't so young when he left."

  "What kind of man was he?" Jackson persisted. "Why weren't you friends?"

  Wilson Sr. mulled the question over before he finally answered. "Jack Pruitt had it all. Good looks, a beautiful wife and you boys, yet he always looked toward the future. He was never satisfied. Always wanted something more. Consistently talking about moving further west, to California, or north. Said he hated staying in one place too long."

  Jackson waited for him to continue.

  "When your mother refused to move from here, he took to the road anyway. Cattle drives, and what not. Came back with a lot of money too. But then he started drinking, and stayed in town longer and longer. I remember one night when your mother was heavy with child, Heath I believe, Lucas' father and I came to help her get the horses in the stable and the cows penned for the winter. She'd not seen your father in over a week." He met Jackson's gaze. "I don't know I would call your father honorable, but he wasn't a bad man either. I figure he had something bad inside him and he dealt with it the best he could until it ended up beating him."

  "I don't remember you and him being friendly."

  "That's because we were not." Wilson shook his head. "The story is best left in the past, but you're correct, there was no love lost between us. Your mother however, she was a fine woman. Deserved better than Jack Pruitt."

  "Someone like you?" Jackson asked him sensing Wilson may have cared for his mother at one time.

  "Someone better than Jack Pruitt."

  Jackson raised the sack of money. "Are you sure about this? Winter is coming and it's going to be a long cold one."

  Wilson was already mounting. "It's your money, I know you expected more in Oklahoma, but there's twenty-five a head there for the cows Thomas' hired thieves took."

  Less than an hour later, the cows headed toward the barn, urged by the chill in the air after the sun fell lower in the sky and Jackson waited until only a few were left and whistled for Butch to herd the stragglers on.

  Honor, as important as it was to him, Jackson wondered if it made a man too self absorbed at times. He understood Mr. Wilson wanted to make amends, for his son, but would Thomas learn from it? What mistakes would he someday make with his own sons?

  Dear Adeline, the letter began and she hurried to read the words, which brought the memories of being back at Widow's Rock. Those few days with Mae and Miss Lady seemed like a lifetime ago. The letter was from Mae. A great woman like Mae deserved happiness, a husband and even children. Behind the proud façade, Adeline had spied a vulnerable caring and giving lady.

  After reading news that Miss Lady sent regards and was doing well, she folded the letter carefully and tucked it into the pocket of her apron.

  Stepping outside, Adeline found Jackson sitting on the front porch. He held a burlap sack and stared off into the darkening sky. She sat next to him and nudged him with her shoulder. "Are you hungry?"

  A smile curved his lips and he nudged her in return, then leaned over and brushed his lips over hers. "A little bit."

  She eyed the sack. "Whatever is in there bothers you."

  "Its not necessarily what is in the bag makes me think about many things. Wilson Sr. our neighbor came today and gave me this sack of money. His son stole some cattle from us. Lucas and I had to drive to Oklahoma over two-dozen head short. It was through shear luck we didn't get sent packing by the buyer for not fulfilling the bargain."

  "He did the right thing, the father then." Adeline laid her head on his shoulder. "Why are you so pensive?"

  "It made me wonder about being a father," Jackson replied in a quiet voice. "Thomas, Wilson's son is not a good man, yet his father is. My father wasn't much of an example. I hope not to be like him."

  She cupped his jaw urging him to face her. "Jackson you are a great man and I have no doubt you'll be a wonderful father once God blesses us with children." She kissed his face and then wrapped her arms around his neck embracing him. "I love you Jackson Pruitt." The words glided out and it didn't matter at the time whether or not Jackson felt the same way. He now knew how she felt about him.

  "And I love you with all my
heart Adeline." His response had her blinking back tears while she beamed at him.

  He loves me.

  Jackson stood pulling her up with him. "Its too cold out here, I don't want you to catch a chill. Besides, whatever you made for dinner sure smells good." Hand in hand, they went to go inside, but then Jackson hesitated and looked toward the abandoned cabin. Adeline wondered what lay so heavy on her husband's mind. What was he not telling her?

  They ate dinner and talked about non-consequential things, he seemed to relax. She needed to tell him about the blonde woman in town. Jackson deserved a few hours of relaxation. In the morning over breakfast, she'd tell him and get it over with.

  No more lies.

  The next morning, Adeline stretched and reached for Jackson's warmth. Finding his side of the bed empty and cool, she at up and scanned the bedroom. He was gone.

  The cold floor made her cringe but she grabbed her robe and pulled it around her as she made her way to the kitchen. Jackson stood by the washbasin rinsing a cup when she emerged from the bedroom. "I thought I'd let you sleep in," his gaze roamed over her instantly warming her face. "I kept you up late again." He dried the cup and placed it on the shelf.

  A shiver slid down her back as she considered her words, to tell him his real bride had arrived. "I wanted to catch you before you left so we could eat together, we need to talk ..."

  "Thank you Adeline, if you'd like to fix something I'll be right back," Jackson pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. "Heath is here and I need to talk to him about deciding where to build."

  "Heath?" Adeline squeaked noticing Jackson peered out the window. "He -- he's here?"

  "Yep," Jackson went out the door before she could come up with some way to stop him.

  "Oh God," Adeline peered out the window as Jackson came into view and walked up to his brother.

  They hugged and Heath began to speak. While speaking, he gestured with his arms, punctuating whatever he spoke about.

  Both men turned to the window and Adeline almost ducked. But she met Jackson's eyes and noticed they twinkled with humor. Heath said something and got Jackson's attention again. Jackson began to laugh. Relief swept through her. Maybe Heath had not come to tell Jackson about the mail-order bride.

  "You are getting married," Jackson chuckled and shook his head. He tried to stop the mirth, but then began to laugh again at Heath's stricken expression. "Serves you right for writing someone pretending to be me."

  "It's not a joke Jackson," Heath told him annoyed. "The darn woman tricked me into proposing. Women are sneaky creatures."

  "Yes well and you were too stupid to see it coming." Jackson wiped a tear from his eye and turned to his house. "She's still looking out. Probably fretting over whether or not you told me about this...what is her name again?"

  "Jessica McGuire, prefers to be called Jessie," Heath replied. "She's a society lady too. What the hell am I going to do with a woman used to finer things?"

  Jackson scratched his head. "I suppose if she was willing to come out west, she knew it wasn't going to be as fancy out here."

  "Yeah, I suppose," Heath replied. "Well I wanted to let you know and also see about where to build since I'm gonna need a house."

  Heath planned to ride the land. He’d notice the smoke from the cabin.

  "He's here." Jackson blurted, not sure why, but he had to tell Heath. "Jack Pruitt is at the old cabin."

  Without a word, Heath mounted and spurred his horse to a gallop in the direction of the cabin. Jackson stood without moving, not sure what his brother planned to do, but he'd not let him go alone. If the timing was wrong, Jack Pruitt might shoot him. Jackson took off running toward the stables.

  He heard Adeline calling after him. "Go inside, I'll explain later. Don't worry. Please stay inside." He yelled, hoping she would obey him. Damn it, he should have told her about Jack, what if the old man killed him and his brother?

  Riding bareback, Jackson caught sight of Heath as his brother arrived at the cabin. He must have heard him approaching because he looked toward him. Then he pulled his gun and headed toward the front door.

  "Heath, don't go in there. I mean it." Jackson screamed. "He's not right, might shoot you."

  His brother ignored him, kicked the door open and went inside.

  Jackson kicked at his horse forcing the animal to go faster, until finally he reached the cabin and leaped off.

  For the first time in over twenty years, he and Heath would face their father together.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Jackson ran into the cabin to find Heath leaning over the slumped figure.

  It became obvious rather quickly Jack Pruitt was dead.

  He'd died in the same chair, in front of what was now an only ash pile in the small hearth.

  "I'm glad he's dead," Heath said when he stormed inside. "Otherwise I would have killed the bastard."

  "He didn't deserve you carrying the burden on your conscious brother," Jackson walked closer and placed his hand on Heath's shoulder. "Dying like this. Alone and without anyone to care for him, was probably proper punishment for his selfishness."

  "I was afraid," Heath started, and stopped.

  "Of what Heath?"

  "That you'd kill him and knowing you, you'd turn yourself in admitting to it."

  "I didn't. When I talked to him, I didn't feel much more than pity and I hated feeling anything for him. The worse I wanted to do to the man was drag him off our lands."

  "You would have had you known." Heath took a breath stormy eyes meeting his. "He's the one who shot me. I rushed here because I had to stop him from telling you, its why I came to kill him. I wouldn't have turned myself in either." Defiant eyes met his.

  "I should drag his carcass outside and let the buzzards have him." Fisted hands on his sides, Jackson stomped from the cabin, unable to breathe. Why would Jack Pruitt shoot his own son?

  "He was sick, his mind was not right. Apologized to me as he stepped around me to leave." Heath told him from the doorway.

  "Left you to die, is more like it. You could have bled to death before anyone found you." Jackson swung around. "I don't give a damn how sick he was, he almost killed you. Just a few inches over and he would have hit your heart."

  "But he didn't" Heath replied. "We need to bury him. I'll go get someone to come help."

  The chill of the early afternoon breeze helped the men remain cool, while digging the grave where Jack Pruitt would be laid to rest. At the moment Carl and Heath dug while Lucas stood above looking down.

  Stubbornly refusing to help, Jackson watched from a short distance as Carl and Heath climbed out of the hole in the ground.

  "It's a darn shame, he missed out on watching his two sons become upright men," Adeline came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Jackson closed his eyes and relaxed into her warmth.

  "He doesn't deserve to be buried here."

  "Probably not, but he must have loved your mother a great deal to make what must have been a very painful trip here to be near her when he was dying."

  Jackson remained silent.

  "Here this will warm you up." Adeline placed a cup of coffee in his hands.

  They'd built a campfire. Both Peggy Ann and Adeline had been there all morning fussing over them, keeping them warm with either a touch or hot liquid. Although Jackson didn't help, he also couldn't force himself to leave either. Truth be told he shouldn't have let Heath do it. He was probably hurting from his wound. But his stubborn brother was intent on completing the task.

  Not one of the others made a comment at his lack of participation, nor did they look at him with any type of judgment and for it he was grateful. Maybe it was good Heath had found the dead man and not him. He wouldn't have gone to the trouble of burying the bastard.

  "Who is that?" Adeline shaded her eyes and looked toward a cart moving towards them.

  Jackson followed her line of sight. "It's Judge Maphis and a woman."

  Adeline paled and tugged at his
arm. "I have to tell you something Jackson. The day I went to town..."

  "You ran into my mail-order bride." Jackson finished for her with a slight curve to his lips. "Was her appearance why you came home a changed wife?"

  A pretty blush swept across her face as she shifted nervously. "Well yes and no, I mean I was being stubborn, realized I shared the blame for our differences."

  "Then I owe the woman my undying gratitude." Jackson told her leaning forward and kissing her lightly on the lips. "Thank God for Jessica McGuire."

  Adeline hit his shoulder playfully. "You are not funny Jackson."

  Heath looked up, a flash of alarm swept across his face before he schooled it to neutral. The judge waved and climbed down from the cart, then walked around and assisted the young lady down as well.

  She was very pretty, Jackson had to admit, but not as beautiful as his Adeline. Her grey eyes flashed at him before landing on Adeline. Cool and reserved he noted until she noticed his brother. When their gazes met, she colored and looked away. There was an attraction there and Jackson was glad for it.

  "What's going on here?" Judge walked up to the hole and peered in. "Who you boys burying?" He tapped on the tin star on his shirt. "Is there something I need to know?"

  Heath rolled his eyes at the judge and motioned toward the cabin with his head. "Go look for yourself Sheriff."

  As the judge stalked away Adeline and Peggy Ann neared Jessica. Jackson watched with interest, as the women took measure of each other. The neutral one in the group, Peggy Ann was the first to speak. "Hi I'm Peggy-Ann, and this is Adeline. Come sit over here with us. We've got blankets on this tree stump to keep warm. Would you like some coffee?"

  Jessica smiled at the two women and followed them to the campfire. "Thank you yes, I'd love coffee, I'm freezing from the ride out here."

  Jackson moved to the nearby tree and leaned on it. The men went towards the cabin now to get the body. Heath said something to Lucas and laughed. His brother had grown to be a good man. He'd done well by himself in spite of Jack Pruitt. He didn't like the burning in his gut; the tight hold in his chest didn't allow him to release a full breath.

 

‹ Prev