by Ward, Marsha
“Your pa’s a mighty commanding figure of a man.”
“He is that.”
“Hard to stand up to a man so strong.”
James snorted. “I’m shamed that I didn’t. Now I have a chance I never thought would come my way. I need to win Jessie back.”
“To ease your pride?”
“No. I love her so much I ache inside. I can’t twiddle my thumbs and let Heizer have her.”
Robert slapped James on the back. “Luck to you, my friend.”
James responded in kind. “Thanks.” He gestured toward a side street. “Down that way is the grocery shop.”
~~~
James drifted around the store, his heart turning into a leaden lump in his chest. He’d been in this place only weeks before, stocking up on food to make the trip back to his pa’s homestead—with Amparo. The small span of time since that occasion held such a range of shattered hopes, broken dreams. Now he was here again, harboring altered expectations, different desires. Hush! Life ain’t easy.
He mentally shook himself, noting how he’d been blessed during the past weeks. I never thought to see Jessie again. Nor to take upon me a new religion with power and promises. The sweetness of the two events drove the hard lump from his chest. I’m a lucky man. Besides Ma, there are no finer women on earth than Amparo and Jessie.
James trailed his fingers over a bolt of cloth and smiled at his fanciful notion. I don’t have no guarantee yet that Jessie will have me, he thought.
An idea hit him, and he felt inside his coat for the needle he’d pinned there a few days before. It was in place. The fall from the horse hadn’t dislodged it. What was it Jessie had said? This was her only needle. He grinned and started toward the back of the store.
~~~
Ned watched Robert Fletcher and James Owen walk back into the camp with parcels. He limped toward where Jessie stood near the fire, helping her mother with supper. He wanted to be nearby in case Owen had any thoughts of approaching her. “Whew,” he said to himself. All this watch-care over his intended bride took up a lot of time and energy. If only he could be certain Jessie wouldn’t have her head turned by Owen’s fancy words.
“Evening, Jessie,” he said when he reached her side.
“Evening yourself, Ned.” Jessie stirred the soup in a large cauldron hanging on a tripod
“Is there anything you need? Water?”
“No, Luke filled the barrels this afternoon.”
“That’s good. He’s a hard worker.”
“Aren’t we all,” Jessie answered.
Ned bit his lip as silence fell upon them. How come it was so hard to strike up a conversation with Jessie? After all these years, surely they had a lot to talk about. Mrs. Bingham was in earshot, though, as well as Heppie and Hannah, and strolling down memory lane didn’t seem the thing to do with a passel of listeners. Neither he nor Jessie had been out of camp to explore the town, so that didn’t offer a new topic of discussion.
He tried again. “Nice sky.”
“It does appear to have a clear light,” Jessie said.
Ned could only agree. He looked around. Owen stood over his pack, giving him a look of exasperation. Good! He would remain here whether he could find a task to do or not. Anything to thwart Owen’s desires.
He took a step away from Jessie and squatted near the edge of the fire, spreading his hands to it as though they were cold. They weren’t, but no one needed to know that. He rubbed them together, acting out his role for the women.
“You should wrap up in a quilt if you’re cold, Ned,” Jessie said.
“No need,” he said. “I’ll be comfy in a minute or two.”
Just then, James Owen approached the fire and began to whistle an old tune. Ned looked up in time to see shock registering on Jessie’s face, driving out the color. What’s going on? Ned wondered. What does “Annie Laurie” mean to her?
“Ned,” she said, her voice urgent. “I believe I need more firewood. Please, would you fetch me a big ol’ log?”
He looked at the woodpile a few yards away. “You have wood.”
“I need more. Please?”
He nodded and stood up, knowing he was being sent away. Damn James Owen! he thought. What’s he got up his sleeve? He glowered at his rival as he passed him. Owen smiled back and took a step closer to Jessie.
~~~
As soon as Ned walked off, Jessie turned to James and hissed, “Don’t be foolish, James Owen.”
In reply, he softly sang, “’Maxwelton’s braes are bonnie where early falls the dew. And ‘twas there that my fair Jessie gave me her promise true.’”
Jessie felt a touch faint. “That’s all past and gone.”
He shook his head and continued in a voice so hushed he almost whispered the words: “’Gave me her promise true that ne’er forgot shall be. And for love of my fair Jessie I’d lay me doon and dee.’”
“Stop it. Ma will hear you.”
“Does that matter?”
“You left me behind.” Jessie tried to turn away, to give him her back, but she made the mistake of looking at his eyes, and a quiver ran through her body, rooting her in place.
“I own to being foolish several times in my life, but never so much as then. When I heard you tell me to go, I lost heart.”
James stood so near that Jessie could have reached out and touched his cheek. She struggled with that impulse as he continued. “I was a fool to listen to you and to Pa. I should have stayed with you or fought Pa to bring you along.”
“James.” She shook her head in confusion as her insides churned. Ned loves me, Ned loves me, she repeated several times in her mind. James is simply jealous.
“I have something for you,” he said.
She shivered at the intensity of his voice.
He pointed to the center of the plaza. “Meet me at the town well after supper, and I’ll give it to you.”
Before she could refuse, James was gone, striding away with a confident air as he whistled the refrain to “Annie Laurie” again.
“Six little beans!” she muttered, using one of James’s favorite exclamations. Curiosity zipped around the corridors of her mind as she tried to imagine what James would bring her. It suggested first one thing, then another. If James is really jealous … She gave the soup a vigorous stir and knew that, despite her misgivings, she would be at the well.
~~~
After supper, Jessie’s reservations nearly got the better of her curiosity.
James only wants to turn your head, she told herself as she dried her hands on her apron. If he cared a fig, he would— Her thoughts in disarray, she wondered what he would do if he truly loved her. Well, one thing was clear. If she didn’t go meet him, she never would know what he had in mind. For sure, she wouldn’t receive whatever he had bought for her in town.
At last, curiosity won out. Jessie took off her apron, unbraided and brushed out her hair, and slipped away from the camp.
Although the plaza was large, it took her only a few moments to find the town well, with its washing troughs for accommodating laundry day. She spotted James sitting on the edge of one of the troughs, a lighted lamp at his side. She stopped for a minute, a flood of memories making her heart leap into her throat and constrict her breathing. She almost smelled lilacs. No! she thought. I don’t want to remember that! She nearly turned to run, but she must have made a sound. James looked up and saw her, and he smiled, lamplight caressing the creases on the lit side of his face. If he says my name, I’ll be lost, she thought.
“Jessie,” he called. His voice matched his smile.
“Hello,” she managed to say, wanting to run and hide at the same time that she desired above all things to be swept away by her memories to a past that should have been her present.
James got up and approached, took her hand, and brought her to the circle of light. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said. “I’m mighty pleased you did.”
His smile had not faded. In fact, it seemed to
Jessie to be wider than before, brightening his eyes. Even so, he seemed oddly vulnerable.
She hesitated before answering. She didn’t want to seem petty, but finally the only thing she thought of to say was, “You said you had something for me.”
James laughed. “I did say that.” He let go of her hand, indicated that she should sit down and, when she had done so, sat beside her.
He reached inside his coat and wiggled something loose from the facing of the lapel. “I found your needle,” he said, and held it out so she could see it. A short tail of thread trailed from the eye.
“You did?” Jessie smiled. “You found it! Thank you, James.”
Instead of giving it to her, he leaned back and thrust his free hand into his pocket, bringing out two small objects. One was a packet of pins that he transferred to his other hand. “I didn’t want you to lose the needle again, so I bought you this.” He unfolded a scrap of cloth to reveal that it was pierced with three bright new needles. “It’s sort of a sewing kit, without the scissors and thread.” He paused. “Maybe I should have gotten you those too?” His voice trailed off, uncertain. He asked, “Did I do wrong?”
Jessie held herself very still, afraid to answer, but her immobility was in vain. His thoughtfulness made tears spring to her eyes. She wiped at them, but they trailed down her cheeks. She looked up. The anxious, little-boy expression on his face was too much to bear. She began to sniffle, caught in a whirlpool of gratitude, tenderness and affection.
“Hush! Now I made you cry,” James blurted out, his face crumpling.
“No! You done … . That was so sweet. You didn’t have to. But you did.”
“Don’t cry, Jessie. This is all backward. I wanted you to be happy.”
“I am,” she bawled, unable to stop the tears and the emotions that fed them.
“But you’re cryin’.”
“Yes,” she agreed. She wished James would put his arms around her, but sensed that his confusion had him spellbound. She had no claim on asking him to comfort her, so she kept on crying, and he kept making soothing sounds. He didn’t touch her, which she realized was because he had his hands full of prickly objects. That thought struck Jessie as funny, and she began to laugh.
A moment later, James joined her in merriment. He stuck the found needle into the cloth with the others, and put the cloth and the pins into her hand. “Ah, Jessie,” he said, after one long spell of hoots and chortles, “It’s mighty nice to laugh with you. I wish you’d marry me.”
Jessie shot to her feet. That would not happen, much as she wished it could. She’d promised— Oh Lordy, why did I promise Ned I’d marry him? Did he hear us laughing? He’ll come over and find us making merry together!
“I must go,” she said, and gathering up her skirt in one hand, ran back toward the camp.
Chapter 40
The party left Santa Fe the next morning amid flurries of snow that continued intermittently throughout the day. They made ten miles before coming to a water hole edged with white. Ned went to fill his canteen, but James warned him off and led the wagons past the water. When James had left, Ned turned his horse and approached the hole. He was kneeling to get water when James rode up.
“Don’t drink that!” he called.
Ned got to his feet, feeling the rise of irritation in his stomach. What gave James Owen the right to tell him where to whet his thirst? “What’s your problem, Owen?” He balled his hands into fists.
“That’s bad water. You don’t want to drink it.”
“Who says I don’t?” Ned blustered.
“See that white rime?” James was off his horse, kicking the coating that rimmed the water tank.
“A little ice. Maybe snow.”
“No. It’s alkali. I saw the like in Texas.”
“I’ve never heard of it.” Ned bent over, scooped up a handful of water, and drank it. The taste was noxious, but he couldn’t spit it out in front of his rival. He did allow some to dribble out the side of his mouth.
“No!” James exclaimed, and pulled Ned away from the water tank. “It poisons the water.”
Ned swallowed, then shook himself away from James’s hold. “It’s not so bad.”
“Don’t be a fool, Heizer.” James got the canteen from his saddle and held it out to Ned. “You’d best get some good water into you and dilute that mouthful you took. You’re going to be sick, but you probably won’t die if you’ll do that.”
“I’m never sick,” Ned shouted, angered at being called a fool. Then he fell to his knees and retched, his mouth burning. He heard James’s sharp inhalation of air. Ned cursed himself for letting his ill humor lead him to reckless behavior. When he’d finished throwing up, he wiped his mouth with a shaking hand and whispered, “You have the right of it. Will you help me get on my horse?”
“Gladly,” James replied, offering the canteen again. “First, drink deep.”
Ned took the canteen, washed out his mouth, and spit. He took another mouthful and swallowed it, regretting his hard-headedness as he realized the alkali water had burned his throat as well as his mouth. He chugged down the liquid in the canteen, mentally blessing James Owen. The man could have shrugged his shoulders and left him to do what he wanted, but he stepped in and tried to prevent the injury.
Ned handed back the canteen and said, “I am a fool. I’m beholden to you.”
James nodded once, but didn’t say anything as he helped Ned get on his horse.
~~~
By the time Ned dismounted in camp that evening, he knew he was in trouble. He’d been dealing with retching and the trots ever since the incident at the water hole. James Owen had always seemed to be nearby to help him get on and off his horse, never saying much, but assisting when he was needed.
Ned slid to the ground, unsteady on his feet, wanting to collapse into a heap, but knowing he couldn’t do that before he found privacy for another bout of affliction. He limped toward a stand of trees at the edge of the clearing, one hand clutching his cramping belly. Beads of sweat trickled down his cheeks. Where’s George when I need him? he thought.
“Heizer?” came James Owen’s voice from behind. “Do you need aid?”
“No,” Ned groaned. “Send my brother.”
“I’ll do that,” James said. Ned heard the crunch of his boots on dry twigs as he retreated toward the camp.
Ned went about his business as best he could while clinging to a tree to keep from falling. When he’d finished an attack of dry heaves, he fell on his hands and knees and gave himself up to the weakness that caused his entire body to quiver. A moment later, George came running through the grove.
“Ned? Where are you?”
“Here,” he said, his voice rasping in his ears. “I’m here.”
George hauled him up and got himself under Ned’s arm. “Holy Nellie, what ails you?”
“Bad water,” Ned managed to whisper.
“Water? You didn’t drink that alkali poison Owen pointed out, did you?” George half walked and half carried Ned toward the camp.
“Uh-huh.”
“No wonder you look like a calf with the scours. Let’s get you bedded down. I’ll ask Mother Bingham if she has a remedy.”
“It burned my throat,” Ned muttered.
“Don’t talk. Heppie! Miss Jessie!” George called. “Make up a bed for Ned. He’s bad off.”
Ned winched as George pulled him over rough ground at the edge of the clearing. “Hold up. Belly hurts,” he said, panting.
George held him while he fought against the gripping pain in his gut. Thankfully, his body had run out of perfidious fluids, and after great effort, he found enough strength to assist in getting himself into camp.
After a time, he found himself lying in his blankets with Jessie pressing a cool, wet cloth to his cracked lips. “Oh, Ned,” she exclaimed. “Didn’t you know that water was bad?”
He shook his head a fraction of an inch, without strength to speak.
Jessie said, “Thank you, M
a,” and twisted to accept something from Mrs. Bingham. She put a spoonful of liquid against his mouth. “Sip this. Ma said slippery elm and chamomile will ease your burns. She knows her remedies.”
Ned accepted the liquid and felt it slide down his throat as he swallowed. Jessie spooned it into his mouth until the cup was empty, murmuring all the while, “Is that better? Does it soothe?” without waiting for an answer. She set the cup aside and began to wipe the sweat from his forehead with her cloth.
After a while, she patted him on the shoulder and said, “You need to sleep. Rest will restore you.” Then she began to croon a lullaby in a soft voice.
A lullaby? Something about having Jessie sing him to sleep disturbed Ned, but he drifted off before he could work it through.
~~~
Robert decided they would remain camped until Ned had recovered. They spent the next two days tightening harnesses and mending clothes.
Ned drifted in and out of sleep, hearing scraps of conversation, feeling the soothing slippery elm tea roll down his throat, knowing Jessie came to tend him when she noticed he was awake. Where was she when he was asleep? Letting James Owen court her?
Jessie hadn’t accompanied him to the trees. George, or occasionally, James, had done that duty. She’d know what he had to do and when he had to do it, though, and that unsettled Ned. A body should have some privacy, even from the girl who loved him.
When he awoke from a nap on the afternoon of the second day, Ned’s mood matched the dark gray clouds overhead. The only light in the sky diffused through the clouds on the western horizon. Late afternoon, he thought. He assessed his health. His mouth and throat no longer burned. His bodily functions had regularized. Tomorrow we can push on. He looked around. No one had noticed he was awake. Good. Time I proved I’m up to traveling.
Ned threw the quilt aside, got to his feet and, wavering just a tad, limped away from the camp. Nature was calling, and he sure wasn’t going to let Jessie know how unsteady he felt. He couldn’t put himself through any further discomfiture.
How much frustration can a man stand? he asked himself. Does Jessie care for me or not? You’d think James Owen hung the moon, the way she talked to him when he was laid up. “James, don’t you rise up and hurt yourself,” and “I blew the heat out of this gruel for you.” Sounded like a cat purring, her voice all soft and sweet as cream, like that Maggie talked to me.