Willow

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Willow Page 12

by Norah Hess


  "This lady is her mother and she's in a bad way. I'm afraid she has pneumonia."

  "Oh, my goodness, bring her in." Jess opened the door wide and moved back out of the way. When Logan stepped inside, trailing water, Jess ignored the puddles he was making and said, "Follow me. We'll put her in Willow's bed."

  When Logan laid the slight figure down, Jess began issuing orders. "While I get her out of these wet clothes and into some dry ones, you go down to the bunkhouse and tell Rooster Garr that I want to see him right away."

  When Logan hesitated a second, she added, "He's the oldest man there. Gray hair and mustache."

  Jess had barely stripped off Ruth's damp clothes and dressed her in one of her nightgowns when Logan returned with a stockily built man in his midfifties following behind him. Iron-gray hair curled loosely on his head.

  Rooster Garr nodded to Jess, and then he looked down at Ruth. His gaze moved slowly over her small face, its delicate bone structure and pale lips. "Poor little bird," he said softly as his big hand stroked the top of her thick brown hair. He looked up at Jess. "She needs a doctor, and fast. I'll ride into town and bring back Dr. Ordin."

  Jess nodded and then said, "Wait a minute while I write a message for Willow."

  Not more than a minute later, Jess returned from the kitchen and handed Rooster an envelope. "Give it to Martinez and tell him to ride to the telegraph office in El Paso. They can send the message to Wichita. Jules always stays at the Gold Crown Hotel when he finishes a drive. The telegram will be delivered to him there."

  When Rooster had gone, Jess looked at Logan and asked, "Why is another woman fleeing that ranch in New Mexico?"

  "They are running from its owner; Otto Ames, Willow's father and Ruth's husband. Don't ask why. It would take all night to give you the many reasons they had."

  "I expect Mrs. Ames realizes what a good friend she has in you."

  "I hope she does. There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do for her. I've been seriously thinking about riding back to New Mexico and putting a bullet between her husband's eyes." Turning toward the door then, Logan said, "I'm going to put the team away and get into some dry clothes. I'll be right back."

  "Stop in the cookhouse first and tell our cook, Amos, to give you a plate of the stew I made for the men's supper. That is, if the hogs left any."

  Logan returned to the house shortly after the doctor and Rooster arrived. The two men and Jess watched anxiously as Doctor Ordin felt Ruth's pulse, took her temperature and then listened to her chest.

  When he raised his head he said, "She has double pneumonia. It appears that she's been in ill health for some time and doesn't have enough strength to fight off the sickness that has taken hold of her. She will need round-the-clock care. Every three hours she's to have a spoonful of this medicine." He held up a flat bottle of clear liquid for everyone to see. "This is to break up the congestion in her lungs. And this one"—he held up a small bottle containing amber liquid—"is for her fever. Give it to her every two hours."

  Doctor Ordin closed the black bag he had carried into the house and stood up. "I'll stop by in the morning to see how she fared during the night." When he had gone, Logan said, "I'll take the first shift."

  "No." Rooster shook his head. "I'll take it while you get some sleep. You can relieve me at midnight and sit with her until morning. And you, Miss Jess, can look after her in the daytime." He gave the old lady a keen look. "That is, if you think you're up to it."

  "Of course I am, you knucklehead. Haven't I been cooking for you ever since Willow went on the drive?"

  "Sorry, Miss Jess. I spoke without thinking. Now off to bed with you." Rooster was left alone then with their unexpected guest—one who was very ill. He pulled up a chair beside the bed and, sitting down, gazed at the delicate face of the woman whose breathing barely lifted the sheet that covered her. From the first, he had been drawn to this fragile woman as he had never been to one much younger. Even as ill as she was, there was a beauty and dignity in her fine features.

  "Poor little bird," he whispered, "some bastard has treated you badly."

  Chapter Eleven

  Willow stirred and smiled in her sleep. Soft lips were dropping hot kisses on her stomach. When they moved down to one inner thigh, she held her breath expectantly. She released it with a soft sigh and whispered Jules's name when she felt teeth nibbling at the little nub of her femininity. Passion flooded through her and she came awake. She murmured Jules's name and he came to her, silent and bare of clothing. Still not speaking, he parted her thighs and crawled between them. When she lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist, he began to thrust inside her slowly. In lazy somnolence they rose and fell against each other. There was no need to hurry. No one was going to come upon them. A whole night of uninterrupted lovemaking lay ahead of them.

  Much later, as Jules sat on the edge of the bed with Willow stroking his back as he rolled a cigarette, he remembered the letter he had been handed when he signed in at the hotel. "There's a telegram for you from Aunt Jess on the table," he said.

  "How nice," Willow exclaimed, sitting up and reaching for the envelope, which was somewhat smudged with fingerprints. "I wonder what she has to say." She extracted the sheet of paper and read,

  Willow,

  come home as quickly as you can. Stop.

  Your mother is here and I'm afraid that she has pneumonia. Stop.

  Love,

  Aunt Jess.

  "Oh, no!" Willow cried, her face drained of color.

  "What is it?" Jules took the telegram from her nerveless fingers and read it. "Ah, honey, I'm sorry," he said, putting his arms around her. "Something awful must have happened to make her come looking for me." Willow leaned into the strength of Jules's arms. Jules held her away, saying, "Let's get dressed and start home. You get our clothes together while I go get our mounts."

  It took Willow less than five minutes to dress and get their clothes together. She hurried downstairs and out the door, there to pace back and forth, waiting for Jules to return.

  Jules had already purchased their trail supplies, but he took time to fill their canteens. Altogether, in twenty minutes they were riding out of Wichita under a full moon.

  "We'll ride a few hours, then stop and get some sleep," Jules said as they reached the end of town and prodded the horses into an easy gallop. "Must we, Jules? We can cover a lot of ground if we ride all night."

  "Honey, I know you're distraught, but if nothing else, the horses have to get some rest every twenty miles or so; otherwise we'll run them into the ground before we reach the ranch."

  Willow knew he was right, so she said no more. With the night wind blowing against her face, she silently prayed to God to help her get to her mother as soon as possible.

  It was well past midnight when they came to a lone cottonwood standing starkly on the prairie. Jules helped Willow to dismount, then spread their blankets beneath the tree and staked out the horses nearby.

  When they stretched out on the bedroll they lay spoon fashion. Willow's head rested on Jules's shoulder and his arm lay across her waist. Jules smiled wryly. This was the first time in his life he had ever held a woman in his arms with no thought of making love to her. All he wanted to do was be a comfort to Willow.

  And so it went as they drew closer to El Paso and the Asher ranch. Each day they rode until it got dark, then stopped wherever they might be. Jules made supper from game he had shot as they rode along; then they would get a few hours' sleep before continuing.

  A week later they spotted the Asher ranch in the distance. Willow gave a cry that was a mixture of excitement and dread as she kicked her mount into a hard gallop.

  "You have the most beautiful hair I've ever seen on a woman, Ruth," Rooster said as he drew a brush through her rich brown tresses.

  "Thank you, Rooster." Ruth's cheeks pinkened at the compliment. She couldn't remember the last time a man had praised anything about her. Probably when Otto was courting her, trying to impress her wi
th empty words. She had learned soon after marrying him that he had none of the finer feelings. He could pretend when he wanted something, but once he obtained what it was he'd gone after, his true character was soon apparant.

  But Rooster Garr wasn't like that. The big, burly man had tended to her with the gentleness of a caring mother. It was he who had mostly sat with her through the nights when her fever was high and fits of coughing racked her body. It was his strong arms that had held her, stroked her head, whispered encouraging words to her. It was he who daily made her some kind of broth to strengthen her.

  And all those things had worked. Her fever broke and her lungs cleared, and daily she grew stronger. This morning Jess had helped her into one of her faded dresses, for Rooster had promised that today she could go out onto the veranda and sit in the sun for a short time.

  She waited impatiently now for him to finish dressing her hair.

  "There," the big man said, finally laying the brush aside. "You're ready for your big adventure." As Ruth laughed at his remark, she was swooped up into Rooster's arms. "You don't weigh nothing," he complained as he carried her out onto the veranda and settled her in a chair he had padded with a bright Mexican blanket. "I've got to put some meat on them little bones."

  A flush stole over Ruth's face again. What did Rooster mean when he said that he had to put some meat on her bones? It sounded as though he was making himself responsible for her.

  The thought excited her even as she knew it could never happen. She was a married woman, and Otto would sooner or later show up to drag her and Willow back to New Mexico.

  But, oh, how she would love to have this big man take care of her. With him she could voice an opinion without fear of being struck for it. Rooster had just came out on the veranda carrying a tray with a mug of broth on it when he and Ruth saw two horses galloping toward them. "I think that's Jules and your daughter," Rooster said, placing the tray on a table beside Ruth. "I recognise his stallion."

  Willow was off her horse before it came to a complete stop and was running to her mother's out-stretched arms. Happy tears washed down their cheeks as they clasped each other.

  Willow finally pulled away and gazed into Ruth's eyes. "How are you feeling, Ma? You are so thin."

  "I was quite ill for a while," Ruth said as they held each other's hands. "But I had wonderful people taking care of me. Especially this fellow." She smiled up at the big man looking down at them. "He made me drink gallons of meat broth."

  "Hello, rooster." Willow smiled at the cowhand. "I can't thank you enough for taking such good care of my mother."

  "No thanks needed, Willow. I enjoyed every minute of it." Rooster dropped a hand on Ruth's shoulder. "But don't forget Logan, who brought her here, and Miss Jess, who also took care of Ruth's personal needs and entertained her with stories of her youth." He grinned. "Blood-curdling tales they were, too, of Indian raids, outlaws and rattlesnakes."

  While everyone was laughing, Jess came out onto the veranda with Logan behind her. "It's about time you two got home," she pretended to complain.

  With a wide smile, Jules grasped his aunt's waist and spun her around until she began to beat him on the chest with her knobby fists. "Put me down, you big buffalo, before you break my ribs," she ordered, "and meet Logan."

  After the two tall men shook hands, Jules turned expectantly to Ruth.

  "Jules," Willow said, drawing him down beside her, "I want you to meet my mother, Ruth Ames."

  Jules took the thin hand offered him. "I'm real happy to meet you, ma'am, and to see that you are recovering. Your daughter can now relax and stop worrying about you. I was afraid she was going to get sick, too, before I could get her home."

  Ruth reached for Willow's hand. "Poor Willow has worried about me since she was a little girl." She looked at Willow with a sad smile. "I'm afraid we'll have to go on worrying about each other. Your father knows where you're living, and when he returns from the cattle drive and finds me gone also, he'll be in a rage when he comes looking for us."

  "You don't have to go back with him," Jules said. "There're three strong men here who can see to that."

  "I don't want to bring you into our troubles. Otto is a mean, vengeful man. He'll go to any extreme to get his way."

  "Don't worry about that. He won't be browbeating defenseless women when he gets here. He'll be hooking horns with three determined men. He'll back off, I promise you."

  "I hope you're right, but he'll be bringing his friend Buck Axel with him. That one is meaner than my husband."

  "Who is this Buck Axel? One of your cowhands?"

  "No. He owns a ranch next to ours. He wants to marry Willow."

  Jules looked at Willow. "Is he the one you were engaged to?"

  "Heavens no! He's old and fat and meaner than a rattlesnake."

  "Jules"—Ruth looked shamefaced—"I lied to you in my letter. Willow wasn't engaged to marry anyone. No one jilted her. I just thought that would be a good excuse for her wanting to get away."

  "Well, that clears up a lot of things." Jules smiled at Willow. "I've been trying to figure out what man in his right man would run from you." Rooster looked down at Ruth's flushed face and said firmly, "Miss Ruth, you're beginning to tire. It's time you were getting back to bed."

  "Oh, but…" Ruth reached for Willow's hand again. "She can go with you. The two of you can chat to your heart's content while you're resting."

  Willow and Jules looked perplexed as they moved back out of the way while Rooster gathered Ruth up in his arms. Jess and Logan paid no attention to the big man carrying Ruth away. They were used to the attention he gave the little woman.

  When Willow had followed Rooster and her mother into the house, Jules looked at Logan and said, "Come with me and take a look at the wild horses I've caught."

  On the way to the corral, Amos stepped through the cookhouse door. "How's the ankle?" Jules asked the cook.

  "I've been hobblin' round on it. Doc says that I can start cookin' next week."

  "I'm glad to hear that. The men will be coming home in a few days."

  "Everything go all right on the trail?"

  "Everything went along fine. Lost six head at a river crossing."

  "I expect the girl had a rough time of it, handlin' the team, cookin' on an open fire. The men probably went around hungry half the time."

  Jules looked down at the ground to hide his amusement. There was a hopeful note in the cook's voice that betrayed his wish that Willow had failed as a trail cook.

  He crushed Amos's hopes by saying, "She did just fine. Every night she had a hot, hearty meal waiting for the men when they came in."

  Amos was silent for a moment; then he grunted, "That's good," and turning around, limped back into his domain.

  "I think he's afraid Willow will take his job from him," Jules chuckled as he and Logan walked on in the direction of the penned mustangs. "You've got a fine bunch there," Logan said, leaning on the top rail of the corral. "What are you going to do with them?"

  "I'll break them to the saddle, then drive them into Wyoming to sell them to ranchers."

  "I've heard that they are in need of mounts there."

  "Do you know anything about breaking the wild ones?"

  Logan's lips twisted in a wry grin. "That's all I've done since I was twelve years old."

  "The hell you say. How would you like to help me with these?"

  "I might as well. I sure can't go back to the Ames ranch."

  "What happened there that made you bring Ruth here?"

  "Ames flew into a rage when he learned that Smitty, their cook, had helped Willow to run away. Otto taunted the old man to draw on him, and Smitty, too proud to back down, drew his gun. Of course he was slow, as Ames knew he would be. The bastard shot the old fellow through the heart.

  "Although the cowhands hate Ames, they had to admit to the sheriff that Smitty drew first."

  Logan paused, looking out over the range, a glitter in his dark eyes. "When the bastard knocke
d Ruth down and threatened that he would take care of her when he returned from the cattle drive, I decided to bring her here to be with her daughter." He looked at Jules. "He and that Buck Axel will come looking for them."

  "And I'll be ready for the polecats."

  In the early evening when the lamps were lit and everyone sat at the supper table, Jules looked across at Willow and saw that she had been crying. He felt that he knew why. Ruth had told her about Smitty, her old friend. He would console her about it later. When they were in bed together.

  "Are you sure you'll be comfortable on that?" Ruth asked as she watched Willow make up a narrow cot with bed linens.

  "I'll be just fine, Ma. Remember, I've been sleeping on the ground for weeks. This will feel like a cloud to me." Willow smiled at her mother, who had yawned several times. "You go to sleep now, and I'll see you in the morning."

  Willow waited until Ruth was in a deep sleep, then quietly let herself out of the room and slipped next door to Jules.

  He was waiting for her, without any clothing, his arms folded behind his head. "I thought you would never get here," he half complained, rolling over onto his side and propping his jaw on his hand.

  "I came as soon as Ma fell asleep." Willow stepped out of her last garment.

  Jules's eyes kindled as he gazed at the loveliness of the woman standing before him. How good her nakedness was going to feel against his.

  When Willow blew out the lamp and lay down be-

  side him, Jules said as he gathered her in his arms, "I don't like the idea of you having to sneak into my room. I want you sleeping beside me all night."

  "I know," Willow said softly, "but Ma is straight-laced. She'd object to my sleeping with you. We'll just have to be content with stolen hours for the time being," she added as she put her arms around Jules's shoulders and pressed her body against his.

  In the ensuing hours they made up for the nights when Jules had only held Willow in his arms. It was nearing dawn before they were exhausted and sated with each other. Each had love bites where they had explored the other's body. When Willow leaned over to kiss Jules good night before going to her cot, he was sound asleep.

 

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