by Norah Hess
Smitty hid a grin when Willow started packing the trail grub into his saddlebags as though Jules hadn't spoken. He wished he could stay on a little longer, just to watch the battle of wills between those two. It would be very interesting, and hard to predict which would be the winner. Both were strong-willed. It was easy to see that Asher wasn't used to being rebuffed by women, and he knew for a fact that Willow didn't have much use for men, so she wasn't going to be swayed by any sweet talk from the rancher.
When it was time for Smitty to leave, there was a wetness in Willow's eyes as she followed him outside. He already had his horse saddled and waiting. "Give Ma my love," she said when he had mounted, "and tell her I'll be thinking about her all the time and planning the day when we will be together again."
"I'll do that, girl, and you be careful of that randy boss of yours. He's hot to get you in his bed."
"Hah!" Willow snorted. "We both know that won't happen, don't we?"
"Keep that thought, Willow," Smitty said, and lifting the reins, he rode out just as the sun touched the eastern rim of the prairie.
Willow blinked back tears and watched the last link to her mother disappear on the horizon. Would she ever see her old friend again, or her sweet little mother?
She wiped her eyes and walked back into the kitchen. To her surprise, Jules had poured himself another cup of coffee and was still sitting at the table. He wants to bait me some more, she thought grimly, and the irritation she felt sounded in her voice when she asked, "Do you want your breakfast now?"
"No, I'm still not hungry, and I haven't shaved yet. I only wanted to tell you that last night's supper was the best I've had in a long time, and that my home hasn't looked so good since I can remember. Old Maria did the best she could, but the last few years she wasn't up to all the work the place demanded to make it look its best. I wanted to have some woman come in from town and give her a hand, but she felt insulted when I mentioned it."
Willow recognized that her boss was trying a new approach to soften her up. She gave an inward contemptuous laugh and said, "I can understand that an elderly woman's pride and lack of strength would keep her from giving the place the attention it deserves, but what excuse do you have for Nina not keeping your home clean? She's young, and looks very strong to me."
A mixture of embarrassment and anger stained Jules's face. Willow was right, but it wasn't up to her to chastize him. In his outrage, he spoke words that he immediately wished he could call back.
"Nina wasn't here to do housework."
Willow gave him a look that shriveled him to his toes. "I see," she said with a curl of her lips. "You hired her for the express purpose of heckling and tormenting your aged aunt. I can't see how she could possibly be of any interest to you otherwise."
Jules blundered on in his rage, "That's because you're not a man."
"Hah!" Willow shot back at him. "El were a man, I wouldn't want anything to do with the likes of that one. There's nothing special about her. In fact, she's very common. In all ways, I expect."
Jules knew he was losing the battle and was thankful when Aunt Jess tapped her way into the kitchen. "Drat it!" she exclaimed. "I wanted to see Smitty off."
"You just missed him, Aunt Jess." Willow pulled a chair away from the table. "Sit down and I'll pour you a cup of coffee."
"How are you this mornin'?" Jess looked at her nephew, who still showed traces of anger in his eyes. "I'm fine, Aunt Jess. How are you feeling?"
"I'm feelin' fine as a fiddle. Had my best night's sleep since I stopped eatin' Nina's food. I bet you slept better after that fine supper Willow served us."
Jules ignored the last part of Jess's remark. He hadn't slept well at all despite the fact that his stomach felt fine. The thought of the beauty sleeping across the hall from him had kept him awake for most of the night.
Jess transferred her attention to Willow when a cup of coffee was set before her. "Honey, did you ask Rosie to come help you with the wash today?" Willow darted a look at Jules's tight face before answering, "Yes, I did, if that's all right."
"Of course it is. There's a pile of dirty clothes in the washroom that almost touches the ceiling. That Nina only washed clothes twice all the time she was here." She looked at her nephew. "I never could figure out why you kept her on."
"Maybe you never thought about it too hard, Aunt Jess," Willow said sardonically. "Maybe Nina has hidden assets."
Jess would have jumped up and down in her glee had she been able to. She had gotten the results she had aimed for. Willow wasn't afraid to stand up to her nephew, to let him know what she was thinking. Jules had finally met his match.
When Jules only glared at her, his face growing darker, Jess said, "We're real short on rations. I think Willow should ride into Coyote and lay in some supplies."
Jules pushed away from the table, his chair scraping on the tiles. "Put everything on my tab at the store," he answered as he stomped out of the room. Willow and Jess looked at each other and fought back the laughter that rose in their throats. "I don't think that rooster is too happy with us, Willow," the old woman whispered, her little black eyes glittering with mischief.
"I know. Isn't it a shame." Willow's pretended dismay sent them both into loud laughter.
Jules slammed his bedroom door against their merry mirth.
"I think we've pulled enough feathers out of his tail, don't you?" Jess wiped the tears from her eyes. "He looked ready to strangle us both."
"I guess we have for the time being." Willow wiped her own eyes. "There's always tomorrow."
Jess agreed, then added, "I shouldn't rag him like that, but he's so dratted arrogant. I can't help bringin' him down a peg or two ever once in a while. Show him he's not as special as he thinks he is sometimes."
She tamped tobacco into her pipe then and struck a match to it. When she had drawn on the long stem a couple of times, sending smoke curling around her face and white hair, she said, "In all honesty, though, I reckon Jules has a right to feel a cut above the average man. Since he was old enough and strong enough to round up cattle, he has worked like a slave, building this ranch into the biggest and the best in the territory."
Willow was saved from having to make an agreeable response to Jess's observation by the arrival of Rosie. She was thankful. She didn't think she could have uttered the words Jess might have expected her to say. In her opinion, just because Jules Asher had worked had to have the finest ranch around didn't justify his stepping on people's feelings, saying to them whatever entered his mind. "I am ready to start, seňorita." Rosie smiled at Willow. "Do you have a big pot to heat water in?"
"I expect so." Willow looked questioningly at Jess.
"There's a big iron kettle right outside the washhouse, and a fire pit to build a fire under it," Jess said, "and there's tubs and washboards waiting beside the dirty clothes. El was you, girls, I'd do the washing outside. It can get mighty hot in there, what with the hot water and the exertion of scrubbing out the dirt."
An hour later the clothes had been carried outside and sorted, and hot water was steaming in the washtubs. Both women were bent over washboards, and bed linens and towels hung from two clotheslines stretched between trees.
Willow had just hung up a shirt when Jess called from the kitchen patio that it was time for a coffee break.
"Aunt Jess, you shouldn't have done this," Willow scolded when she and Rosie sat down at the table and found ham and scrambled eggs waiting with the coffee. "You're going to start your hip to aching if you move around too much."
"It didn't take much walkin' to fry some meat and scramble some eggs," Jess scoffed as she poured coffee for the three of them. "Actually, three years ago when I broke my hip, the sawbones in El Paso told me not to sit around after the bone mended. He said that I should exercise it. At the time I didn't think he knew what he was talkin' about, but I'm beginnin' to change my mind. It seems the more I move about, the less I hurt."
"If you're feeling that good, Miss Jess, maybe you ca
n give us a hand with the wash," Rosie teased.
Jess grinned and gave the girl a rap on the knuckles with her spoon. "And maybe you would like to muck out the stables when you've finished the wash."
"Oh, no!" Rosie pretended dismay. "I couldn't do that. I'm too delicate."
The women's laughter rang out, and Jules, working at breaking a two-year-old mare, stopped and listened. He hadn't heard his aunt laugh like that in a long time. And Willow's throaty laughter started a stirring in his loins.
"You know, Willow," Jess said when the last of the late breakfast had been eaten and they were drinking their coffee, "I think you should get freshened up and ride into Coyote and pick up the supplies. I'll give Rosie a hand with the rest of the wash."
"I don't think you should do that, Aunt Jess."
"That's right, Miss Jess," Rosie said. "There's not that much to do. I can have it finished in less than an hour."
"Well, if you're sure, Rosie." Willow stood up, "I'll wash my face and change my clothes."
"You do know how to handle a team and drive a buckboard, don't you, Willow?" Jess asked.
Willow gave a short laugh as she remembered that she had been barely nine years old when her father ordered her onto a wagon seat, handed her the reins and ordered her to drive into town to pick up some blocks of salt. She had felt as if her thin arms were being pulled out of their sockets as she strained to control the big, strong work horses.
"Yes, Aunt Jess, I'm an expert at handling a team."
"I had a feelin' you would be." Jess nodded admiringly as she filled her pipe and lit it. When she had it going to her satisfaction, she said, "I wrote out a partial list of the things we need. Before you leave, check it and add whatever I've forgotten. It's been a long time since I've gone marketing."
Fifteen minutes later, her face washed and her hair brushed, Willow scanned Jess's supply list, added a few more things, and then left the house.
Jules saw her coming toward the barn and stopped what he was doing. He leaned against the snubbing post and watched her long legs stride along in a kneelength, split riding skirt.
He noticed after a while that the stable hands were ogling Willow in the same way he was, and it angered him. He pushed away from the post and strode up to the men.
"Don't you have something better to do than standing around?" His words were like pistol shots and the ranch hands jumped to attention and hurried away to their designated jobs.
When Willow came up to him, Jules smiled and remarked, "You have a nice day to ride into town."
"Yes, I do," she answered, thinking to herself that it was the first time he had ever spoken to her in a genial voice with no mockery or innuendo in his tone.
Jules looked at her delicate, tanned arms and asked, "Are you sure you can handle a team?"
"Oh, yes." Willow forgot that she didn't like the man and smiled at him. "I've done it hundreds of times."
"You don't look old enough to have done that," Jules teased lightly. "How old are you?"
"Why, Mr. Asher, you should never ask a woman her age." Willow's amber-colored eyes sparkled at him. "I thought a man was supposed to stop doing that when the woman was over forty." Jules's eyes smiled back at her. "Well, in that case, I'm twenty-two."
"And still single." Jules shook his head. "Now that's a surprise. Were all the men blind in your area?"
This was the first time Willow had ever flirted with a man, and she liked it. Her father had never allowed any young men to come courting her. Her mother had claimed bitterly that he was afraid of losing a ranch hand he didn't have to pay. That had all changed, though, when Buck Axel bought the ranch next to theirs.
Jules heard the bitterness in her voice when she answered, "Something like that, I guess." For the first time in his life Jules felt the sting of jealously. She was thinking about the man who had jilted her. If only she would let him, he could make her forget that man ever existed.
He had learned one thing in the last few minutes. If he wanted to make any headway with the beauty, he must stop heckling her and start showing her some respect.
"I've been thinking," he began and then swore under his breath. Nina had come up beside him and possessively linked her arm in his. Before he could pull away from her, Willow was walking oft?, her chin in the air and her back held ramrod straight.
"What do you want?" Jules asked abruptly, untangling his arm from Nina's.
"I only wanted to say good morning to you," she said, looking woefully at the irritated rancher. "I didn't know that I wasn't allowed to speak to you."
"You can stop that poor-me act right now, Nina. If you ever pull a trick like that again, I'll give you ten minutes to pack your duds, whether you have another place to go or not."
Nina stared after Jules as he strode away, going toward the barn. "You're hot for the long-legged blonde right now," she muttered, "but you'll come back to me when you discover that proud beauty won't take care of your needs the way I can." She returned to the small cabin when she saw Jules disappear into the barn.
Jules stepped inside the big building and saw two of his men hitching up the wagon for Willow. In their excitement at being so close to her, they were bumping into each other, laughing as they tripped over each other's feet.
He cleared his throat and the men froze. "I'll take care of that for Miss Ames," he said, his voice gruff.
The men dropped the trace chains and faded into the dark recess of the barn. Willow climbed up on the tall wagon seat and sat there in cool dignity, ignoring Jules as he finished the hitching of the horses.
"All set." He smiled up at her a minute later.
"Thank you." Willow's tone was as cool as her attitude. She unwound the long reins from the wood-stock and slapped them on the horses' wide rumps. As they moved out, Jules stood watching the buckboard bounce and rattle over the rutted dirt road as Willow skillfully handled the team. In his mind he cursed the day he'd ever laid eyes on Nina. She had purposely interrupted when she saw that he and Willow were on friendly terms.
The prairie stretched before Willow, flat and treeless, extending out of sight. She let the team choose their own pace as she held the reins loosely in her hands.
The air was warm and brisk, and her tired body welcomed the gentle motion of the well-sprung wagon seat. Several times she heard the lowing of cattle but never came in sight of them.
The drawn-out bawling of the longhorns triggered thoughts of her father's ranch, and of her mother. Smitty would be almost home by now and soon he would assure the little woman that her daughter was settled in at the Asher ranch.
That would please Ma, she thought, but what price had her mother paid for her release? Had her husband struck her when he learned that their only child had left home? He would have been angry enough to have done that. It wouldn't be the first time he'd lifted a hand against her.
And what about Buck Axel? Now that she was out of the man's reach, what would his attitude be toward her father? She doubted that they would even be friendly anymore. She felt that neither man really liked the other. Each wanted something the other one had. Buck wanted her, and Pa wanted the assurance that he could always water his cattle in the river that ran through the Axel ranch.
The single-street town of Coyote appeared in the distance, and Willow broke off her unpleasant thoughts. As she drew nearer and the buildings stood out, she counted seven sleeping under the warm sun.
Riding down the street in ankle-deep dust, she learned which building held what.
On one side was a saloon, one horse tied up in front of it. Next to it was a barber shop with a sign on its side that read, "Doctor's Office Upstairs." At the end of the street was a stable.
Across the street from those places of business was a cafe, the general store which had brought her here, then an empty lot and a small schoolhouse. Next to it was a church.
All the buildings were weatherbeaten, and Willow imagined that none of them had ever known paint.
As she pulled the team in a
longside the porch of the mercantile and set the brakes, she glanced at another wagon hitched to the side of the store. When she climbed to the ground, she glanced inside the vehicle. It held bushel baskets of farm produce. The sight of big red tomatoes made her mouth water.
Willow stepped up on the board sidewalk and started to walk inside the store. She was nearly knocked down by a man who came hurrying out onto the porch. If he had not shot out his hands and grabbed her, she would have gone over backward into the street.
Steadied by strong, yet gentle hands, Willow gazed up at a very handsome male who looked a few years older than she. His hair was black, in need of a trim, and he had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. He was of medium height and muscular build.
"Are you all right, miss?" she was asked anxiously. "I'm afraid I wasn't watching where I was going."
"I'm fine," Willow assured him with a smile. "I'm afraid I wasn't paying much attention to where I was going either. I had my eyes on those big red tomatoes in that wagon."
"Those are mine," the young man said. "I supply the grocer with vegetables, milk, butter and eggs; then in the fall I bring him apples, pears, squash and pumpkins. Also I bring beef and pork when he needs them."
Willow had a sudden thought. "Do you sell to the Asher ranch?"
"I sure do. You're not the new housekeeper there, are you?"
"Yes, I am. I took over my duties yesterday."
"If you don't mind my saying so, you don't look like a housekeeper."
"Well, I am," Willow said coolly, her chin coming up in the air. Was he assuming that she was more than a housekeeper? Did he think she would play a role like the one Nina had played in the rancher's life? Probably was still playing, according to what she had seen last night.
"I only meant that you're too young and pretty to be doing a menial job," the farmer hurried to explain.
"This menial job, as you call it, is honest work and I don't feel ashamed doing it. Would you think better of me if I was serving drinks to a bunch of drunks in a saloon?"