Willow

by Norah Hess

  Jules gathered up the reins, and with a lift of his hand he sent the stallion cantering toward town.

  "I wonder what you'll look like when you get home, bucko." Logan grinned, and then, jumping to the ground, he walked toward the house to have a talk with Jess.

  He found the old lady sitting in the kitchen, a bowl of potatoes in her lap, two of them peeled, a paring knife lying on top of them. "Hello, Logan." She looked up, giving him a weak smile, her tone gloomy. "Have a seat. I was going to make supper for myself and that idiot nephew of mine, but he has gone off to town to raise hell."

  "Yes, I saw him. He thinks that drowning himself in whiskey will help him get over his hurt."

  Jess nodded and muttered, "The damn fool," as she pulled her pipe and tobacco from her apron pocket. "I could have told him where Willow went, but he has to learn how important she is to him, how much he loves her and how badly he is going to miss her. When he gets rid of all his crazy notions, that arrogant pride of his, then I will tell him."

  Logan waited until Jess had filled her pipe, struck a match to the tobacco and got it going. Then he asked softly, "Where did Willow go, Miss Jess?"

  Jess took the pipe from her mouth, and without any hesitation answered, "I sent her to a small ranch of mine about fifteen miles from here." She sucked on the pipe stem a couple of times, then removed it from between her thin lips and said, "I want you to go look in on Willow in a couple days. See how she's getting along. Find out if she needs anything, if the Salazars have left, if the cowhands are doing as she tells them."

  "I'll head out tomorrow." Logan stood up. He looked down at the basin of unpeeled potatoes. "Can I give you a hand making supper?"

  "No." Jess placed the potatoes on the table. "I'll have a bite with our cook after the cowhands have eaten."

  Logan paused at the door, a thoughtful look on his face. "Miss Jess," he began slowly, "three teenagers just rode in from the cattle drive. They're upset that Willow is gone."

  "That would be those rascals, Jimmy, Sammy and Brian."

  Logan nodded. "They would work their butts off for her. Don't you think it would be a good idea if I took them along with me when I ride out to your ranch?"

  Jess puffed on her pipe a minute, the smoke curling up around her white head. Then, cupping the clay in her gnarled fingers, she said, "You may have something there, Logan. They have practically been raised on ranches and know every aspect of what it takes to run a spread. They can do a man's job, probably better than some older hands.

  "When you go back to the bunkhouse, swear them to secrecy and then tell them where you're taking them." She gave a wry twist of her toothless mouth. "That will save me the aggravation of them coming up here later with the idea that they can trick me into telling them where Willow has gone." As Logan went through the door, she added, "And take that old hound with you. He goes around all the time looking for Willow."

  The closer Jules came to town, the more he realized that getting drunk and brawling wasn't the answer to the emotions roiling inside him. He would only end up with a godawful headache tomorrow morning and maybe a battered face.

  He turned the stallion around and headed home, a slight dejection in the droop of his shoulders. Women had come and gone in his life and he had never given any of them a thought later. Why couldn't it be that way with Willow?

  Because he'd become besotted with her.

  Jules's shoulders jerked erect. "Like hell I have," he grated. "There's not a woman on earth can do that to me." As he heeled the horse into a gallop, there grew inside him an anger and a determination to put Willow Ames with all the other women he had known.

  By the time he reached the ranch, he had convinced himself that she was no better than the saloon women, that in fact she was worse. She had pretended affection for him when all along she had wanted to trick him into marriage.

  Jess gave a startled jump when he stomped through the kitchen and on to his bedroom. When his bedroom door slammed, the old lady grinned. She was going to enjoy watching him try to get over Willow.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was dark when Willow returned to the house, sweaty and dusty. She sighed with thanksgiving when she discovered that Rooster had made supper in the cookhouse where Sofia had cooked for the two cowhands.

  During the last few days she had spent all her time acquainting herself with the surrounding land, locating Aunt Jess's cattle. Today, the Salazars had taken their leave of her. She was on her own now, running the ranch.

  When Willow had cleaned up and joined everyone at the long table, she made a mental note that she had to hire a cook. She and Rooster wouldn't have time to make meals, and her mother wasn't up to it yet. She realized as she cut into a tender, juicy steak that she had to pay the cowhands' wages also. She sighed inwardly. She was going to have a number of unexpected expenses, no doubt. Things that she had little money for.

  But looking across the table at the glowing face of her mother, the sparkle in the brown eyes, the smiling lips, she knew that somehow she would manage. To keep Ruth Ames happy would be her goal in life.

  Maybe she could strike a deal with the men, and the cook she hired, she thought. She would ask them if they would be willing to wait for their pay until the fall roundup, when the cattle had been driven to market. They might do it if she offered them a bonus for waiting.

  When the meal was eaten and the men were having a smoke, Willow discussed with them their duties for tomorrow.

  "I want one of you to ride fence. You can decide between you which one will do it. The other one will help me and Rooster drive the cattle into one herd and bring them closer to the ranch. While I was riding around, I found the longhorns scattered all over the range. Many were alone, easy prey for a bear or coyote. It is too important that I don't lose a single head."

  She smiled at Rooster and said, to his startled surprise, "Rooster will be my ramrod."

  And while Rooster was gasping and liking the fact that he was going to be ramroding an outfit, Ruth asked, her expression eager, though a little worried, "Will I be the cook?"

  "Not just now, Ma." Willow patted her hand. "Maybe when you're a little stronger. You have worked hard all your life."

  "But I want to pull my weight too."

  "Well, if you feel up to it, you can make up our beds and dust the furniture."

  "Oh, I can do that." Ruth smiled at Rooster as though inviting his praise. He nodded at her and winked an eye as if to say, "Good girl."

  When the two cowhands, Denny Prater and Hoot Welby, rose from the table and said good night, Willow followed them outside. "Men," she said, coming straight to the point, "do you think you could wait for your wages until after the roundup when I have sold some cattle?" She hurriedly added, "I'll pay you a bonus."

  In the light shining from the cookhouse, she saw the two men look at each other a moment. Then Denny said, "I guess between us we've got enough pocket money to last until then." He didn't mention that he and Hoot would be unable to visit the bawdy house in town until they were paid.

  "Thank you, men. That means a lot to me." She hesitated a second and then asked, "I don't suppose you know a cook I could hire under the same conditions?"

  The men shook their heads, but then Hoot said, "Hold on a minute. I know someone you might be able to hire. It's a woman, but she's a good cook."

  "You talkin' about good ole Corrie Mae?" Denny asked, wearing a wide grin.

  "Yeah. Miz Jacobs fired her yesterday when she caught Corrie Mae and Mr. Jacobs in the barn foolin' round, if you get my meanin'."

  "I think I do," Willow said dryly. "There's no husbands around here for her to fool around with, so everything should work out fine. Do you think she would wait for her wages?"

  "Yeah, I think so. She's got a soft heart for anybody in trouble."

  "Where can I find her?"

  Denny's gaze lifted briefly to Willow, and then he said, "Me and Hoot are goin' into town tonight. We'll hunt her up and ask her to come out to the ranch
and talk to you. If that's all right."

  "That's fine with me." Willow smiled. Saying good night, she walked toward the house.

  Hoot and Denny looked at each other, wide grins on their faces. "Can you believe our good luck?" Denny's eyes sparkled. "I can hardly believe that we may have Corrie Mae workin' here, takin' care of our needs every night."

  "And it won't cost us," Hoot added to Denny's excitement. "I'm sure gonna make a hog of myself."

  "Let's get goin'." Denny took off for the stables. "Maybe she'll come back with us tonight."

  Ten minutes later they were galloping their horses toward town. Both men knew where they could find Corrie Mae. Between cooking jobs she worked at the bawdy house, satisfying two of her needs—money and a good supply of men to keep her content.

  Willow was too tired and sleepy to drag in the wooden tub she had seen hanging on the patio wall outside, to fill it and take a bath. Instead, in her room she filled a washbasin with water from the pitcher sitting beside it and took a sponge bath. She slipped a gown over her head and crawled into bed. She fell asleep as she pulled the sheet up to her waist.

  She smiled softly during the night, whispering love words to Jules, who entered her dreams and made love to her.

  Fifteen miles away Jules was having the same kind of dream. Willow lay beneath him, her arms around his shoulders, her legs wrapped around his waist. Both grew angry at themselves when they awakened the next morning.

  The first rays of the rising sun flashed across the prairie as Rooster shot his gun into the air and yelled, "Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes."

  There came from inside the bunkhouse the noise of giggling and muted male laughter. Corrie Mae, naked, rested her back on the bed's headboard, watching Denny and Hoot scramble for their clothes, which lay in piles where they had hurriedly been discarded. She looked as fresh as the morning dew, while the men looked drained, with red-rimmed eyes from lack of sleep. They were a sorry-looking pair who gave the new cook a last, lingering look before leaving her.

  "We'd better take a dip in the creek," Denny said. "Get the smell off us before we go into the cookhouse."

  Willow was sitting at the table waiting for them when, with slicked-back hair, Denny and Hoot sat down at the table.

  "Did you find the woman, Corrie Mae?" Willow asked after good mornings had been exchanged.

  When Denny finished forking several flapjacks onto his plate, he answered, "Yes, we did. You'll be able to meet her when you ride in this afternoon. Most likely she'll have supper waiting for us."

  "Did you explain how I'll have to pay her wages?"

  "She's agreeable," Danny answered as he helped himself to the syrup. "That's a relief," Willow said, and there was no more conversation as breakfast was eaten.

  Fifteen minutes later, everyone was filing out of the cookhouse and walking toward the stables to saddle up. As Willow strode along, she was suddenly almost knocked over by a large dog throwing himself at her. As he danced around her, his whipping tail whacking her in the legs, she dropped to one knee. Putting her arms around the hound's thick neck, she exclaimed, "George, where did you come from?"

  As she laughed and jerked her head away from the tongue that eagerly lapped at her face, a male voice spoke behind her. "He came with us."

  Willow jumped to her feet and spun around. Had Jules found her already? Her face showed her relief when she saw Logan and the three teenagers smiling down at her.

  When the three young men slid out of their saddles, she hugged each one of them and they all hung around her, talking at once. "Miss Jess says we should work for you." Jimmy had a smile that threatened to split his mouth.

  "We'll work real hard for you," Sammy was saying at the same time, and Brian was relating how upset they had been when they didn't find her at the Asher ranch on their return.

  "I'll be real happy to have you fellows." Willow wiped at her wet eyes. "There's a lot of work to be done around here."

  She looked at Logan and asked hopefully, "Are you going to stay, too?"

  "I'm afraid not, Willow. Jules was cussing mad that Rooster left him. When he finds out he's lost these three yahoos, too, all hell is going to break loose." He grinned. "Not to mention his old hound deserting him."

  Willow wanted to ask how Jules felt about her leaving, but was afraid what the answer might be. Jules would miss Rooster and the boys, and even his dog, but she could be replaced all too easily.

  "Come to the cookhouse," she said instead, "and I'll make you some breakfast. After that, Rooster will set you fellows to some job. And Logan, Ma will want to visit with you."

  Willow had forgotten how much teenagers could eat as she flipped flapjacks one after the other. At least it kept them from talking for a while, she thought wryly. They had been firing so many questions at her, she felt dizzy.

  When finally their stomachs were full, she told them to go find Rooster.

  "Why will Rooster tell us what to do?" Jimmy asked grumpily. "Miss Jess said that you're the boss here."

  "I am, but Rooster is my foreman. I tell him what needs to be done and he decides who's to do it."

  "That ole Rooster is tough," Sammy complained. "He won't let us work together like we're used to doin'."

  "I imagine he won't." Willow grinned. "He probably knows that he'll get more work out of the three of you if you're not together horsing around. You can get together at the end of the day."

  "I reckon," Jimmy grunted, and led the way outside to look for their new boss. Ruth entered the cookhouse shortly after the boys had left, and as she and Logan greeted each other, Willow walked outside also.

  An unbroken blue sky stretched overhead, and meadowlarks flitted about, their song an uplifting sound as Willow, Rooster and Jimmy rode along. The sun felt hot against their backs as they hunted cattle that had escaped from roundups and were now as wild as deer.

  Two hours later, squinting against the sun, they spotted a small herd of longhorns. Willow counted fourteen. As soon as the cattle saw them, they were off running. The three touched spurs to their horses and took off after them.

  "Chase them into the ground!" Rooster yelled. "They'll be easier to handle after that."

  They chased the wild ones until the animals slowed to a walk. Then they had no trouble driving them the ten miles to the ranch, where a holding pen awaited them. Tomorrow morning they would be branded.

  Denny and Sammy and Brian had arrived half an hour earlier, driving before them nineteen head.

  When the three teenagers had gone off, arguing over who had ridden harder that day, and Denny disappeared into the bunkhouse, Willow and Rooster climbed to the top of the corral and viewed the bawling cattle.

  Most were yearlings, Willow was pleased to see, weighing between six and seven hundred pounds, slick and vigorous. Buyers would pay good money for them in Wichita.

  "I think we'll have a good-sized herd to drive to Kansas this fall if we continue to have the same good luck we had today," Willow said. "Yeah. If we and the horses don't wear out from chasing the devils." Rooster laughed. "I don't know if I can sit down to eat my supper tonight." Willow laughed too. "I think we all may eat standing up."

  "You understand, don't you, Willow, that you must keep back your best cattle for breeding," Rooster said, turning serious.

  Willow nodded. "I know that's very important. My father never thought that far ahead. He always sold our best animals and kept the scrubs for breeding. We had the worst-looking cattle in all of New Mexico."

  Willow gave a sigh of weariness and climbed down from her perch. "I'm going to take a long bath and visit with Ma until it's time to eat supper. I'm going to ask the boys to put some kind of meal together for us. Jimmy learned a little about cooking from helping me on the cattle drive.

  "I can eat anything put before me tonight, as long as it's hot and there's plenty of it," Rooster said. "I'm just not up to cooking it myself I'm dead beat."

  As Willow neared the cookhouse, a delicious aroma wafted through i
ts door, accompanied by a rollicking, bawdy tune sung by a female voice. She turned toward the open door and got a face full of dirt and grit.

  When she choked and coughed, the singing stopped and the dust settled down. "I'm sorry, miss," a husky voice exclaimed. "I've got supper all ready. The last thing I had to do was sweep the floor."

  Willow gazed at the big woman. She wasn't fat, just big-boned. She stood at least five-feet-nine and had a mop of red hair she had tied back with the help of a neckerchief She was barefooted.

  "Come in." The woman's teeth shone white against her deep tan as she smiled, pushing aside the pile of dirt. "I take it you're Willow Ames."

  "That's right, and you must be Corrie Mae." Willow returned the smile and offered her hand. "Something smells awfully good in here," Willow said when they had shaken hands.

  "It's a beef roast. I just now added some potatoes and carrots to it. I figured everybody would be hungry after chasing wild cattle all day."

  "You thought right, and I can't tell you how thankful I am that you're here making us supper."

  "It's my policy to start a new job off right. That means make a hearty supper for the cowhands." Corrie Mae pulled a chair away from the table. "Sit down. I bet a cup of coffee would hit the spot right about now."

  "It certainly would. I've been thinking about it all day."

  While Corrie Mae filled two mugs with coffee, Willow looked around the kitchen. It had been clean enough before, but now it looked homey, too. The long table had been scoured until the grain of the pine wood showed through, and she imagined the black range hadn't looked so shiny in a long time.

  But where had the woman found the bright, flowered curtains that hung at the two clean windows? When Corrie Mae brought the coffee to the table and sat down, Willow said, "You've certainly been busy, Corrie Mae. Where did you unearth those pretty curtains?"

  "They belong to me. I bring them with me every-time I move to a new job. They, and rugs and bedcovers and pictures and other geegaws, make me feel at home right off."