by Norah Hess
Willow
By
Norah Hess
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Chapter One
The door slammed shut behind the young woman who burst through it. Her eyes wild with anger and fear, she clutched her torn bodice together.
"Willow, what's wrong?" her mother cried anxiously as she rose from her seat before the fireplace. When the only answer she received was footsteps running down the hall to the bedrooms, Ruth Ames followed them.
"Have you argued with your father again? Has he struck you?" She grabbed the arms of the slender figure and turned her around. Her gaze fastened immediately on the torn dress, the missing buttons, and then traveled up to the flushed, tear-stained face. "Please tell me that your father didn't do this."
"No, Ma, he didn't, but he knew that Buck was trying to force himself on me and he didn't say a word."
Willow pulled the ruined garment over her head and wadded it into a ball. "I don't know which one of them I hate worse," she said through gritted teeth. "Willow!" Ruth gave a shocked exclamation when she saw the long scratches on her daughter's throat and breasts. "Did that brute do that to you?"
"Yes, Ma." Willow walked across the floor and picked up a pitcher of water from the small washstand. As she filled a matching basin with water she said bitterly, "And Pa wants me to marry him." She pulled the white camisole over her head, and after giving a short, humorless laugh, she added, "Not only wants me to, demands that I marry Buck Axel."
Willow soaped a washcloth and moved it carefully over her scratched breasts. "I can't marry him, Ma," she cried despairingly. "My life would be a hell on earth living with that monster."
The misery in her daughter's voice made Ruth's thin hands clench into fists. Her lovely Willow had fought off the attentions of their neighbor for three years. It hadn't been easy, what with her father badgering her at every turn to marry the man whose ranch abutted theirs.
Ruth knew why her husband was so insistent that his twenty-two-year-old daughter marry the forty-year-old man. Buck Axel had a creek that ran with water the year round. She had overheard him threaten Otto with the loss of water for his cattle if he didn't make his strong-willed daughter marry him.
That was all her husband needed to daily prod his daughter to marry the man who had bought the neighboring ranch three years before. A sadness came into Ruth's eyes. She knew that Willow would have left home long ago if it wasn't for her. Her only child had stayed on, taking her father's abuse to make things easier on her mother.
Otto Ames had a quick, furious temper that found its outlet in physical violence, and Ruth was the recipient most times. But usually Willow was there, jumping to her defense and often suffering blows herself in the process.
But now that Willow was being forced into a marriage that made the girl's blood run cold, Ruth would stiffen her spine and do something about it. When Willow had changed into a nightgown, Ruth patted the space on the bed beside her. "Sit down, honey. I have something to tell you."
"What, Ma?" Willow looked anxiously at the small woman. "Nothing bad, is it?"
"I hope not. I pray that it will be all good." Ruth took a deep breath and, taking Willow's hand in hers, asked, "Do you remember my telling you once about the man I should have married instead of your father?"
"Yes, I do. His name was Bob Asher, wasn't it?"
Ruth nodded, sadness coming into her eyes. "Bob's been dead now near to ten years. He left the area and went to Texas shortly after I married Otto. Over the years I kept track of him through a friend who lived in the vicinity of the big ranch where Bob found employment. Before a year was out, he married the rancher's daughter, the man's only child. Before another year passed, his wife bore Bob a son.
"They had no other children. According to my friend, Bob's wife was on the frail side and she passed away when their boy was ten years old, just three years after her own parents died from pneumonia one winter."
"What has all this got to do with me, Ma?" Willow gave her mother a confused look.
Ruth took a deep breath and said slowly, "Two weeks ago I wrote a letter to Bob's son—his name is Jules—asking him if he would please give you a job on his ranch. I wrote that you're a fine cook and a very good housekeeper."
"Oh, Ma," Willow said, breaking in on her mother. "I wish you hadn't done that. You can't ask a stranger to take me in."
"I didn't ask him to take you in. I asked him to give you a job."
"But won't he wonder why I couldn't get a job in my own community here in New Mexico? He'll think there's something wrong with me. That I'm simpleminded or that I have a bad reputation and no one will hire me to work for them."
"He won't think that, honey. I wrote that your intended decided that he didn't want to get married and that in your embarrassment you wanted to start a new life somewhere else."
Willow shook her head. "Couldn't you have come up with something better than that?"
"I think it's a real good idea. Jules Asher is a bachelor, and if he thinks you're pining for another man, he won't bother you."
When Willow got over the shock of what her mother had done, she laughed and said, "I don't know why I'm fretting about it. He probably won't even answer your letter. When did you say you sent it?"
"Two weeks ago. I expect an answer any day."
"If it does come, aren't you afraid Pa might get it and read it?" Ruth shook her head. "I told Jules Asher to address it to Smitty."
Smitty Black cooked for the cowhands at the ranch and was a longtime friend of the Ames women. Over the years he had kept silent his love for Ruth. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her, including shooting her husband if she should ask him to do it. He, like Willow, had put up with the brutal Otto because of the man's fragile wife.
"Good old Smitty."
Willow said softly, remembering the times he had comforted her after her father had punished her for no apparent reason at all. As she grew older she figured out that usually he was mad at one of the ranch hands but didn't have the courage to confront the man.
Ruth stood up. "Go to bed now, dear, and tomorrow we'll ride into Bear Tooth to see if Smitty has a letter waiting for him at the general store."
When the door closed behind her mother, Willow opened her window to let the cool spring breeze flow into the room. She shivered slightly and hurried to turn down the covers and blow out the lamp. She slid beneath the blanket and stretched out on her back, staring into the darkness. Her thoughts were on the conversation she had just had with her mother. It would be wonderful if she could leave the ranch and the hard work she had been called upon to do ever since she could remember.
According to Smitty, her father had been disappointed that she wasn't the son he had wanted and had taken his anger out on the child and her mother.
All she knew for sure was that by the
time she was ten years old, she was spending eight to ten hours a day out on the range, herding cattle, doing everything a cowhand had to do. All the hands pitied her but didn't dare show it. A couple of men tried to help her once, and Otto had become furious. He didn't say anything to the men, but she was made to work hours after everyone else had ridden to the cookhouse for the evening meal.
Consequently, she had grown up tough in body and hard of mind. She had tender feelings for only two people. She adored her little frail mother and was very fond of Smitty. In the winter, when there was little to do, she spent a lot of time in the cookhouse, where Smitty shared many of his recipes with her. He was a fine cook, which had a lot to do with the cowboys' staying on at the ranch. The other reason was the above-average wage Otto paid them. Ames was wise enough to know that it was the money that kept them there and not any liking the men had for him.
Willow turned onto her left side and winced. Buck's dirty fingernails had brought blood in a few places. She rolled over on her right side, and curling an arm under her head, she dared to dream of fleeing the ranch, of making a new life for herself She would hate leaving her mother, but she knew the little woman would insist that she did.
Maybe with me gone, Willow thought, Pa won't have cause to treat Ma so harshly. Most times he gets angry because she's trying to defend me. If Ma stayed out of his way whenever she could, she would save herself a lot of abuse.
Her thoughts turned to the rancher in Texas. What kind of man was this Jules Asher? Her mother had said that she imagined he was around thirty-three or thirty-four. Why was he still single? she wondered. Most serious-minded men married in their late twenties and had started a family by thirty-three.
As her eyelids began to droop, Willow hoped that he wasn't like Buck Axel. Mean and cruel.
The next morning, early, Ruth shook Willow awake. Excitement sparkled in her eyes. "Come on, honey, get up. We want to get an early start to the village. I feel it in my bones that there will be a letter for me—for Smitty, that is."
"It might not be good news, Ma," Willow cautioned as she swung her feet to the floor and stood up. "Don't be too disappointed if your old friend's son has no place for me on his ranch."
Ruth shook her head. "I just know that he won't refuse to give you a job. If he's anything like his father, he'll find a place for you."
"That's what bothers me. I don't want him making a place for me out of pity."
"I'm sure he wouldn't do that. His ranch is huge, and he must need a lot of people to help him run it. I have no doubt that you'll earn whatever he pays you."
It was a beautiful spring day when Willow and Ruth rode out for the village of Bear Tooth. On the way, Ruth kept up a constant gay chatter. Willow wished that she wasn't so excited. The little woman could be setting herself up for a big letdown. There might not even be a letter waiting for them, and even if there was one, it might not contain the news her mother wanted to hear.
But Ruth's high spirits were still with her when they entered the general store. She kept up a running conversation with the genial shopkeeper as she made a few unnecessary purchases. When everything was totaled up and she handed the man what she owed, Ruth casually said, "I don't suppose there's any mail for the ranch?"
"As a matter of fact, there is." The man reached under the counter and brought up an envelope. "It's for Smitty." He handed Ruth the white missive with the old cook's name on it. "I wonder who that ole coot knows in Texas?"
"I believe he has a cousin living there," Ruth said in a calm voice that belied the excited tremor in her hands. "Come on, Willow," she said, gathering up her purchases, "let's get on home. There's a lot of work waiting for us to do."
I didn't know you could be so wily, Ma, Willow thought as they mounted and rode out of the village.
Ruth drew rein when they came to a stand of cottonwoods, out of sight of the village. "I can't wait to see what he's written," she said, swinging to the ground.
Willow remained mounted as her mother tore open the envelope, freed a sheet of paper from it, and began to read out loud:
Dear Mrs. Ames,
It took me a while to figure out who you were. When my father talked about you, he always used your maiden name.
As it happens, I can give your daughter a job. I'm in need of a housekeeper. When she reaches the smalltown of Coyote, anyone there can dire ether to the X-Bar ranch.
Regards, Jules Asher.
"There you are, honey." Thankful tears glimmered in Ruth's eyes. "I told you he wouldn't let us down."
"He didn't waste any words, did he?" Willow said sardonically.
"Well, what more could he write, not knowing us," Ruth said in defense of the unknown man. "The important thing is that you have a place to go, and you'll never have to worry again about having to marry that awful Buck Axel. Let's get on home and start making plans."
Chapter Two
A moth flitted around the lamp, drawn to the flame that lit the cookshack. Three people sat at the end of a long table, leaning toward each other, talking earnestly.
"It's out of the question for you to make this trip alone, Willow," Smitty said Emily. "I know the Big Bend Country. There are four or five different tribes of Indians in the area, not to mention the outlaws that hole up there. If any of them should come upon you, we'd never see Willow Ames again."
As the reality of Willow's departure sank in, Ruth had become uneasy about her daughter striking out alone. Willow knew nothing about the terrain she must travel through, the rivers she might have to cross or the people she might encounter.
But it was imperative that her daughter go. This might be her only chance to escape Otto Ames and Buck Axel. In desperation Ruth had turned to her old friend, Smitty. She knew that in his younger years, before being gored in his right leg by a longhorn, he had worked on ranches in Texas. He could draw a map for Willow.
His arthritic finger tapping the letter Ruth had given him to read, Smitty said, "Coyote was just a dusty spot on the plains when I rode through it once several years ago. I don't expect it has changed much since then. It's not too far from El Paso, a good-sized town. That's where the cowboys go when they want to whoop it up a bit."
"How far is Coyote from here?" Willow asked.
"I'd say a couple days' ride. Plenty of time for a person to get his scalp lifted if he don't know how to move through Indian country."
Ruth choked back a lump in her throat and tried to blink away her tears. But Smitty saw the one that escaped and ran down her cheek. "Don't cry, Ruth." His gnarled hand reached out to hers. "I know it's important that Willow get away from here, and I'm gonna help her do it."
"You are, Smitty?" Ruth looked at him hopefully. "How are you going to do that?"
"I'm gonna take her to this Jules Asher's ranch." He smiled at the wide-eyed Willow.
"Bless you, Smitty Black." Ruth turned her hand over and squeezed his callused palm. "Willow and I will always be in your debt."
The aging cook's face showed how moved he was by Ruth's affectionate gesture. He would walk bare-foot to Coyote for the woman he had adored for so long.
"But Smitty," Willow said anxiously, "if Pa should learn that you helped me to run away, he will fire you."
"Yes, he would. That's why we must give a lot of thought to how we're gonna pull this off."
Both women kept their eyes on Smitty's face as he thoughtfully tapped the tabletop. Finally into the tense silence he said, "I've got to leave the ranch a couple days before you do, Willow. I'll tell the old bastard that I want to go to Abilene to attend a cousin's funeral. That's in the opposite direction from the way we'll be travelin', Willow. I'll say that I'll be gone for a week so as to give us plenty of time to get to this ranch and for me to get back here.
"He won't like it, but he'll let me go. He knows that half his men only stay here because of the grub I serve them."
"Where will you stay until it's time for you and Willow to head out for Coyote?"
"There's that old run
-down line shack that's never used anymore. It's just a few miles this side of the Rio Grande. The river runs past Coyote and we'll be following its course."
"Smitty, we can never repay you for this kindness." Ruth's eyes were tearing again as she brought the cook's hand up to her cheek. "You will be saving Willow from a life of pure hell."
The cook's adam's apple bobbed up and down and the hand Ruth held trembled. He couldn't believe he was touching her face.
"What should I bring?" Willow asked, breaking in on his ecstasy.
After he had swallowed a couple of times and Ruth had released his hand, Smitty cleared his throat and got out the words. "Just your clothes and a gun. I'll see to the grub and bedrolls."
"When will you leave?" Ruth asked.
"I'll tell Otto I'm leaving when he comes home from Buck Axel's place tonight. I'll take off then around midnight."
"And I'm to meet you at the line shack in a couple of days?"
"Yes. Make it at early dawn before the ranch is awake. I think you two should leave now. Otto will be comin' home any time now."
Smitty had supposed right. Ruth and Willow hadn't been in the house more than five minutes when they heard Otto riding in. They peered through the window of the dark kitchen and watched Smitty leave the cookshack and talk to him. They heaved a sigh of relief when the burly rancher continued on to the barn and Smitty, as though he knew they were watching, gave them a quick wave.
The following two days didn't lag as Willow had thought they would. Her father had ordered that she and her mother take on Smitty's duties while the cook was away. Preparing three meals a day for fifteen cowpunchers, and washing dirty dishes and pots and skillets later, sent them to bed at night completely exhausted. They wondered aloud to each other how Smitty could do it with his lame leg.
Willow was thankful she had packed her few articles of clothes in her saddlebag before Smitty left.
She doubted that she would have had the energy to do it now.
Finally, the last supper she would help her mother to make had been eaten and the cowboys left. She faced the future with mixed emotions. Tomorrow morning she would be leaving a life that hadn't been easy. But at the same time she would be leaving behind a mother whom she loved dearly. She worried also that her father would make the little woman carry on with the cooking until Smitty returned.