Where The Wind Blows

by Caroline Fyffe

  “It’s all right. Just relax and let it come. You’ll feel better if you do.”

  After a few moments he lay back into his pillow and slung his arm over his eyes. “It’s passed.”

  “Fine, but I’m leaving the pot right here in case you need it later. Don’t feel embarrassed. Queasiness is common with head injuries, and besides, I’ve tended lots of sick children at the orphanage. It doesn’t bother me at all.”

  “I feel more helpless than a cow in quicksand.”

  Jessie giggled. “That’s natural. Just rest. Your strength will come back faster, if you do.”

  He chastised himself when he wondered what kissing her would be like. It’d been years since he’d gotten worked up over a woman, and he’d been thinking that he might never again. Molly had paid dearly for loving him. Since then, the blood in his veins ran cool.

  He closed his eyes as she fussed here and there and was relieved when he heard her finally leave the room.

  It wasn’t long before Jessie was back, and this time she held a cloth and a basin of water. He eyed her suspiciously. He’d discovered how stubborn she could be when on a mission of mercy. But his head hurt, so he held his tongue.

  She fluffed his pillows and arranged his blanket around his shoulders. He watched her silently all the while, never taking his gaze from her face.

  The cloth, soft and damp, glided across his brow and down one side of his face. He groaned.

  “Did I hurt you?” she asked, anxiety in her voice.

  “No.” Chase hated himself for being so weak. He should send her away, he thought. Tell her to quit smothering him with all this attention. He should have, but he didn’t.

  “I haven’t thanked you properly for coming back that first night. For helping me to keep Sarah. That was very kind of you.” She’d finished with his face and now pulled the blanket down to expose his chest and belly.

  Chase quickly pulled the bedding back up.

  “Don’t be so shy, Chase,” Jessie teased. “I’ve been taking care of you for the past day and a half. No need to squirm and jump now. Besides, it must send your head a-pounding. Just relax and enjoy a little pampering.”

  Oh, he was enjoying it all right. Better think about something else. A cold soak in a mountain stream.

  Jessie stroked his chest and down his arm. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you for what you did.”

  A stream in late December, frozen by a blizzard.

  “And for signing the adoption papers for Sarah,” Jessie continued. “I know it’s illegal to sign someone else’s name to a legal document, and you could have refused to do it. It was clever to put an X—you can’t get into trouble for forgery.” She rinsed the cloth and ran it down his right arm. “Chase, are you listening to anything I’ve said?”

  Desire racked Chase’s body. Clenching his teeth, he looked at her.

  “I said that I hope someday I’ll be able to repay you for what you did for me, for coming back because I needed you.”

  It took a second for Chase to digest her words. Something about the word repay had caught his attention. Repay. Re- pay. He had the nagging feeling there was something important he was supposed to tell her, or ask her. But he’d be damned if he could remember what it was. The harder he tried, the more his head hurt.

  “Enough. I’m awake now and I can tend to myself.” He grabbed the cloth from her hand and held it out of her reach. She came around the far side of the bed to get it, but he stuck it under the blanket.

  Jessie conceded with a sigh. “All right, you win. Is there anything else you need?” She glanced over her shoulder at a sound in the doorway. There stood Sarah, swinging her doll from hand to hand.

  “Come in, sweetheart. I’m all finished up, and Chase needs some company. Just don’t jiggle the bed.”

  “Pa better?” Sarah asked, a serious look on her face.

  Startled, Chase looked to Jessie. Sarah was so young, he’d never expected her to make the connection between him and Jessie being her ma and pa so soon. Now, almost without fail, she was in for another heartbreak. “I’m not up to socializing,” he grumbled and looked away, but not before he saw the hurt look on Jessie’s face.

  “Suit yourself,” she replied, then turned to Sarah. “I need your help in the kitchen, anyway. Let’s leave this irritable ol’ bear alone.”

  He glanced back. Sarah regarded him with a wondering expression. He wished she’d hurry up and skedaddle. But she didn’t. She climbed up onto the chair next to the bed and slowly, as if uncertain, leaned over and gave him a kiss on his bandaged head.

  “Well, I think she’s just what the doctor ordered.” With that, Jessie scooped Sarah up and left the room.

  Humming, Jessie busied herself making a stew out of the venison Gabe had brought home this morning. She happily threw out the possum broth she’d been feeding Chase, thankful they had fresh meat.

  Gabe not only butchered the deer, cutting it into steaks and haunches, but also preserved it by wrapping the pieces in salted gunnysacks. He was now in the smokehouse getting some of the meat ready to be processed.

  She had two potatoes and three turnips left in her vegetable drawer. With the venison, and warm bread, tonight would be a feast.

  Jessie wiped her hands and pushed a strand of hair out of her face. The stew was simmering and the vegetables roasting alongside. She was exhausted. Between worrying over Chase and staying up all night nursing his fever, and sitting up the night before in the chair, she didn’t have an ounce of energy left. Gabe’s bedroll lay invitingly by the fire, and she couldn’t resist. She’d only lie down for a moment. Then she’d get up and set the table. Sarah was napping in her bed and Gabe was still outside. No one would miss her for now.

  Chapter Eleven

  The house was too quiet. Years of living on the trail taught Chase to trust his gut instincts, and the silence in the other room didn’t feel right.

  Pulling back the blanket, he rose unsteadily and took his gun from the dresser drawer. He paused until the spinning in his head stopped and then checked the chambers. Empty. He took two bullets from the drawer and slipped them silently into his pistol.

  Dressed in his long johns, he made his way to the door. He peered around the doorframe. A pot on the stove was bubbling. The fire in the hearth was burning. Everything seemed in order, but there was no sign of the others.

  Continuing into the room, he spotted Jessie lying on Gabe’s bedroll, sleeping peacefully.

  She lay on her side with her hands tucked under her cheek. She’d taken her hair out of the braid, and it twisted and flowed around her shoulders, more beautiful than any silken shawl.

  He was spellbound. Never had he seen a creature more alluring, all loveliness and innocence rolled into one. Her lashes fluttered on her cheek as she dreamed, and when she sighed, her mouth formed into a pout. Chase had the sudden urge to gather her into his arms and never let her go.

  The door’s opening startled him out of his daydream.

  He quickly held a finger to his lips.

  Gabe looked wide-eyed at him, then grinned mischievously. “You going to a parade?”

  Chase gave him a look that said he wasn’t in the mood for teasing.

  “You look kinda peaked, actually,” Gabe said, serious now. “You better get back to bed.”

  Chase knew he must look a sight, dressed in long johns, his gun drawn, his head trussed up. “Don’t you be giving me orders just because you went and saved my life. You’re still wet behind the ears, and don’t you forget it.” He was feeling poorly again and didn’t need any bossing.

  “Yes, sir.” Gabe chuckled softly as he went to the sink to wash.

  Jessie slept through it all, not even stirring when Gabe snorted.

  “I want Jessie to rest,” Chase said, again looking at her in wonder. “I’ll grab my clothes, and you get supper on the table. Sarah is about ready to wake up, and she’ll be howling to fill her belly. We’ll eat as quietly as possible.”

  The
three ate silently at the table while Jessie slept on by the fire. The only sound was the tinkling of the tin utensils and a slurp of coffee every now and then.

  Every time Sarah started to make any noise, Chase would hold his finger to his lips, and Sarah would giggle as if they were playing a game. She’d then put her own finger to her lips and shake her head at Gabe.

  After supper Chase summoned the strength to carry Jessie to her room. He removed her shoes and woolen stockings. He stopped at the dress. She’d probably be mad as a scalded cat to wake up and find herself in her shift. On the other hand, she needed her rest, and she’d no doubt sleep better and longer without the constricting dress she had on now.

  Cursing under his breath, he fumbled with the tiny buttons that ran down the front of her bodice, feeling like the worst sort of Peeping Tom. Whoever had designed such a fandangled piece of clothing should be tarred, feathered, and left for the coyotes.

  Getting the yards of fabric over her head was no easy task. Jessie began to awaken.

  “What is it?” she asked sleepily.

  “I’m just tucking you in.” He held his breath to see if she’d make a fuss, then pulled the blanket up under her chin softly. “You’ve been tendin’ to me nonstop, and now you’re dog tired. Don’t make a scene, Jessie.”

  Her sleepy gaze caught his, and he felt it clear to his boots. In the next moment her eyelids closed, and she snuggled into her pillow.

  He couldn’t help but wonder at her threadbare petticoat. She must have had this same one since she was a young girl. Its edges were frayed, and it was much too small. Any lace it might have had was long since gone.

  After seeing this raggedy one, wouldn’t a husband buy her a new one, for Pete’s sake? The sight of her long legs, combined with the exertion, had him more lightheaded than he’d already been. He needed to lay his aching head down soon, too. He covered her with the blanket and left her to sleep.

  Gabe was finishing up the supper dishes when Chase entered the room. Sarah was fiddling with something by the fire and seemed content.

  “Jessie still asleep?” Gabe asked, keeping his voice low.

  “Yep, and I think she’ll sleep right through the night. She’s plumb wore out.”

  “I left her some supper on the stove, in case she wakes up hungry.”

  “That was thinking ahead.” Chase lowered himself into a chair and rested his head in his hands. It was throbbing again. He could hear the blood pulsing in his ears.

  “You don’t look like you feel too good. If you want to turn in early, I’ll watch Sarah and put her to bed in an hour or so when she gets sleepy.” Gabe dried his hands and sat down at the table.

  “Think I will. But first I’m going to check on Cody and take a look around outside. Whoever shot me could still be hanging around.”

  Chase struggled into his heavy coat, with Gabe’s help. He took his hat from the wall and put it on gingerly, feeling it squeeze his sore temple like a vise. Taking his rifle from the corner, he checked its chambers. “After I leave, drop the bar on the door and keep your Colt within easy reach. I’ll give a birdcall when I’m on my way back. Don’t open the door for anything else, understand?”

  “Yes.”

  Chase turned and gave the cabin one more look. “And don’t shoot me either, boy. I won’t be gone long.”

  It took longer for Chase to check the area than he expected. He had to stop several times and rest, closing his eyes to ease the pounding in his head. Lady Luck had been with him. Another quarter inch and he would’ve been dead, without a doubt.

  He was no stranger to close calls. Four times he’d taken a bullet. Been stabbed twice. And once accused of stealing a horse. He would have hanged for that, if Molly hadn’t spoken up. She gave him a truthful alibi, unmindful of what it did to her own reputation.

  The memory burned. They’d been so young. So alone. He’d learned many things from Molly. What it felt like to belong somewhere, to someone. How it felt to build dreams. He’d learned the joy of loving a woman with Molly, too.

  He’d gladly give his own life to bring hers back. “That was a lifetime ago,” he muttered. “But it’s something worth re- membering when I get to thinking I could ever settle in somewhere. Build a life with someone new.” Jessie’s blue eyes shone vividly in his mind.

  Upon his return, Chase found Sarah asleep and Gabe cleaning Jessie’s shotgun. The firearm was apart on the table, and Gabe was oiling each part meticulously.

  “Find anything?”

  “Nada. But that’s not to say someone’s not watching us from up the ridge. I’ll do a thorough search tomorrow.” Chase stripped off his coat, hanging it with his hat on a peg. “Did Jessie wake up?”

  “Nope. It’s been quieter’n a mouse in a cotton patch. Sarah got sleepy and fell asleep early herself.” Gabe snapped the shotgun back together and ran a soft cotton cloth over the barrel. The metal glistened in the lamplight, and Chase could remember the thrill of cleaning his very own gun for the first time when he was twelve years old.

  “Made some coffee.” Gabe rose and walked to the stove, refilling his cup. “Like some?”

  “Sure. Anything to thaw out my insides.”

  Gabe placed both cups on the table and sat.

  Chase looked toward Jessie’s bedroom door. He was feeling particularly edgy tonight. He sipped his coffee slowly, watching Gabe taking his pistol apart for cleaning. A half hour passed in silence.

  “I’m turning in. Leave this lamp on the table burning low tonight. If there’s trouble, I don’t want to be fumbling around in the dark. Wake me if you hear anything unusual.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  At the hearth, Chase gazed at Sarah, asleep in her bed. An overwhelming urge to bend down and reciprocate the kiss she’d given him earlier caught him off guard. She certainly was a little magnet, but he knew better than to let himself be pulled in. Instead, he leaned over and blew out the lamp flickering dimly on the mantel.

  “Good night…honey,” he whispered, remembering tenderly again the kiss she’d placed on his beat-up ole head. She’d wanted to make him feel better, and all he did now was feel worse.

  Unexpectedly, her eyes opened. Shyly raising her arms to him, she waited. Emotions warred within Chase. He wanted to hold her. But it would only make it harder when he left. Wasn’t it better to confuse her now than to break her heart later?

  Grimly, he nodded to her as if she were just an acquaintance on the street.

  Sarah studied him for a moment. Then without a trace of emotion, she snuggled back into her blanket.

  “Good night, Gabe.”

  “Good night.”

  Chapter Twelve

  He was stalling. Lying down next to Jessie was now seriously problematic. He desired her. He wouldn’t be a man if he’d felt otherwise. But, on the other hand, he wasn’t an animal, either. He recognized goodness in this young woman. He’d never do anything to hurt her.

  As he stripped off his shirt and tossed it into the chair, Chase remembered a bit of wisdom he’d heard from a man he’d once ridden with. Mack, older and trailwise, had taught him what it took to stay alive on a cattle drive. “Remember, son,” Mack had said, “if you ain’t got a choice, be brave. Many a man has come through the worst of situations on heart alone.”

  Quietly, Chase sat in Jessie’s rocker and removed his boots. Easing down on the tiny bed, he grimaced as it creaked under his weight. He hesitated, watching to see if the movement would wake her.

  Being gentle, he pushed her arm over to her body and tucked the blanket like a cocoon around her. She still didn’t stir, so he lay back on top of the cover, stretching his legs out the best he could. With his fingers locked behind his head, he listened to the noises of the night.

  The hoot of an owl somewhere far off.

  The ticking of the clock over the fireplace mantel.

  The breathing of Nathan’s widow lying inches away…

  Nathan! Chase almost sat up when he remembered Nathan’s bankro
ll. That’s what had been dogging his thoughts. He needed to give it to Jessie tomorrow, first thing. If she thought him a hound, so be it.

  As the hour grew late, the temperature in the cabin dropped. Jessie’s scent, soft and feminine, kept Chase in a constant state of awareness. Taking a deep breath, he released it slowly, trying to concentrate on anything but what was keeping him awake.

  He thought of his past and some of the mistakes he’d made along the way. “Killing don’t make a soft pillow at night,” he whispered in the darkness. “Regardless of who draws first.”

  That was a mistake. Jessie mumbled something and snuggled in close to Chase’s side. He rolled over to avoid her, but her arm slid up over his side.

  She’s testing my willpower and doesn’t even know it.

  He was leaving, his good sense reminded him. This was Nathan’s widow. Even though she’d granted him some husbandly rights, physical closeness certainly wasn’t one of them. Against his good sense, he rolled back. Jessie’s face, close to his, was intoxicating.

  “Jessie. Wake up,” he breathed.

  Jessie made a little sound.

  That was enough invitation for Chase. Leaning forward, he brushed her lips lightly with his. “You taste as sweet as a sugarplum pie.”

  Jessie’s eyes flew open. As comprehension dawned, she gasped, her hand covering her mouth.

  Chase reached out to quiet her, to tell her nothing had happened, but she struggled against his embrace and pushed against the restraining blanket. Chase drew back.

  “It’s all right, Jess. I’m sorry. It was all my doing. Please don’t cry.”

  And he was sorry. She was the new widow of a trusting friend. He felt wretched.

  At that moment, Sarah cried out from the other room.

  Jessie and Chase both hurried out to Sarah. Gathering the child up, Jessie rocked her in her arms. Gabe, waking from the commotion, looked as if he was having a hard time coming out of his sleep.