The sudden appearance of a pair of jean-clad legs brought her head up with a snap. Her startled glance locked on to the rough blue material pulled taut across muscular thighs. It was the first time she’d seen Wolf up close in anything other than buckskin. She swallowed, not sure which she preferred him in. Shocked by the direction of her thoughts, she ruthlessly thrust all thought of him from her mind, but his nearness unsettled her, and his continued silence made her hands tremble, causing her to spill precious flour.
Why did his presence affect her so? Whenever he came near, a curious anticipation gripped her. It was as though she came alive, both mind and body alert, waiting. But for what, she was afraid to explore. Tipping her head back to glare at him, she couldn’t help but appreciate how the faint afternoon light softened his prominent cheekbones and lent a golden glow to his sun-bleached hair. It made him seem so much more human. Locking gazes with him, she found herself wishing she could lose herself in the wild sapphire blue of his eyes.
What was she thinking? Thrusting out her jaw, she mentally ticked off all the mean things he’d done to her, reminded herself that this man made it a point to push her to the point of anger at least once per day. With one last punch, she shaped the last loaf, putting one half into a Dutch oven, and the other into one of the covered frying pans that Rook affectionately called spiders.
Standing, Jessie felt more in control as she passed Wolf and set the pans beside the others. When she turned, he was still there, watching her. Now she wished he’d say something. His silence was unnerving, as was the glint in his eyes as he stared at her. But she continued to ignore him while she cleaned up her mess. She turned her attention to Rook, who was stirring a big pot of beans for the night’s supper. “I’ll check the coals in the other firepit to see if they’re hot enough to bake the corn bread I mixed up earlier—and it looks like we even have enough milk left for sweetened bread and milk for dessert.”
Without looking at Wolf, she went about her chores, but his presence unnerved her so that she continued to babble. “We’ll be finished in time to join the others. Did you know Lars plays the fiddle? Rickard told me his pa is going to play tonight. Should be a lot of fun.” Her voice took on a belligerent tone as she sent Wolf a look that dared him to ruin it for her.
As if that was precisely what he’d waited for, Wolf grinned, a knowing, pleased-as-hell grin that boded ill. “I’m afraid you won’t have much time for socializing tonight, young Jess.” Wolf folded his arms across his chest and met her glare with an impassive stare of his own.
Jessie swiped at a strand of hair that fell over her eyes, unaware of the pale streak of flour she left across her forehead. “Of course I will. There’s still lots of day left. My chores will be done in plenty of time,” she challenged. She threw her shoulders back and stuck her chin out, her emerald greens clashing with the ice blue of his gaze.
She refused to back down, even when Wolf took a step closer. They stood toe-to-toe. Jessie had to tip her head back. “Give me one good reason why not,” she ordered. “No matter how many extra chores you assign me, I’ll get them done.”
Rook groaned and motioned from behind Wolf for her to keep silent. She ignored him.
Wolf lifted an eyebrow, and a sly grin lifted the corners of his lips. “I’ve no doubt about that, but don’t fret. There won’t be any extra chores tonight, but it seems I’ve neglected to inform you that I’ve added your name to the guard-duty roster.”
Jessie’s jaw dropped. “Guard duty?”
Wolf nodded toward the oxen grazing nearby. His eyes gleamed with humor. “As you know, someone has to watch over the oxen whenever they aren’t corralled. Tonight’s the first night we’ve not formed a corral with the wagons, and with so many other wagons near, I have to assign guard duty. I can’t risk having ours wander off or be stolen. Rickard is watching them now. You’ll relieve him at dark, and Bjorn will relieve you at midnight.”
Jessie stuck her hands on her hips. He couldn’t do this to her. Not after all the plans she’d made. But before she could argue with him, he reached into his pocket, drew out a piece of leather and handed it to her.
“I believe these belong to you.” Wolf walked away, whistling.
Opening the leather square, Jessie stared at three wicked-looking thorns.
Rook coughed to keep from laughing. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what Jessie had done, but when he saw the fury in her green eyes, he stepped forward and grabbed her arm to keep her from running after Wolf. “Now, lass, don’t do it. That’s what he’s awaitin’ fer.”
Jessie rounded on him, a she-bear all het up and steaming mad. He took a step back, careful to hide his grin.
“Listen to me, Rook,” Jessie’s furious voice demanded, bringing him back to the present. He winced when her voice grew in pitch.
He took another step back for good measure when she advanced on him. He glanced sideways, keeping an eye out for objects that she might have a mind to start tossing. He’d never seen her so angry, so out of control, and he figured he’d better calm her down right quick. “Now, lass. Ya needs to calm down. Gittin’ angry ain’t gonna help ya none.”
Jessie paced back and forth, kicking the dirt and grass in front of her until she’d worn a small, muddy path before him. “Why, Rook? Why’s he doing this? He hasn’t left me alone for one minute since we left Westport. I’ve done nothing to deserve this! I swear, he was born with a burr up his butt.”
At that, Rook lifted one bushy white brow, crossed his arms in front of him and stared at the thorns in her hand. “Mebbe yer just a thorn in his side?”
Jessie winced. Then her gaze went wide with feigned innocence. “The prairie is covered with thorns. He can’t prove I had anything to do with these.”
But Rook wasn’t fooled. He’d seen the gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. But before he could tell her so, her anger deflated. She tossed the thorns down and smashed them into the soft ground with her boots. Standing there, rubbing her cotton-covered arms, she looked young and vulnerable.
Her voice dropped to a husky whisper and quavered with emotion. “That still doesn’t explain why he hates me.” She turned away, but not before he caught a glimpse of watery green eyes. “And he does, Rook,” she whispered. Stooping, she grabbed an empty kettle and stalked toward the river.
Rook frowned and reached for his pipe. She was right. Wolf was being hard on her. He drew a deep breath and shook his head, utterly confused over his friend’s unusual behavior. Under most circumstances, Wolf was a fair and just man. Why was he singling the girl out for what he had to admit was unwarranted harshness over a bit of high-spirited behavior?
Tapping fresh tobacco into the bowl of his pipe, he stared out over the river. Low growls sounded from somewhere behind him, interrupting his musing. Rook whipped around, much faster than his stocky, old-man’s body should’ve allowed. His hand went to the knife sheathed at his belt, and his faded blue eyes scanned the area, looking for the trouble. When he spotted it, he relaxed and lit his pipe, drawing deeply. “Ah, I should’ve known it’d be the two of ya at it again,” he grumbled, spotting Sadie under the wagon. She growled low in her throat as the wolf approached.
He sighed. The two animals were at odds with one another, as were their masters. Sadie refused to have anything to do with the white wolf, and the wolf wasn’t taking no for an answer. A sudden thought came to mind as he watched the two animals eye one another. Each time Wahoska moved closer, Sadie growled and snapped. Rook knew it was just a matter of time before Wahoska won her over.
His bushy white brows rose with sudden insight. Was it possible that Wolf sensed there was more to Jessie than he could see? He chuckled and shook his head, a gleam of anticipation replacing the worry in his eyes. He grabbed his walking stick and poked the white wolf. “Git outta here, you mangy ol’ mutt,” he said in a growl, shooing the animal away.
Sadie came out and licked his proffered hand. Rook scratched the dog behind her ear and took a big pull of his p
ipe, blowing out a stream of smoke. “Well, Sadie, ol’ girl. Things look to be gittin’ mighty interestin’.”
Jessie mounted Shilo and headed out across the prairie in search of some small game. For her sixteenth birthday, when most girls received fancy dresses, gleaming jewels or golden chains, her brothers had presented her with a new scattergun. The shotgun now lay across her lap. Hunched over the mare’s neck, Jessie felt the wind cool her face as she put distance between her and the person who had hurt her deeply. Well, she’d show him.
As her eyes scanned the grass and small bushes for prairie chickens or rabbits, her mind searched for a suitable method of extracting revenge. No one treated her like he did and got away with it. Jessie rode until she calmed.
An hour later she returned to camp and tossed four prairie chickens to the ground near Rook. After taking care of her horse, she helped Rook pluck the birds. By the time dinner was ready to be served, Jessie not only had her plan of revenge, but she’d put it into action.
Hunching over a Dutch oven chock-full of fresh meat, beans and rice, she stirred the steaming mixture. Glancing around, she made sure no one was looking before dropping a small sliver of hot chili pepper into the pot, carefully concealing it near the side of the kettle where she could scoop it up quickly. Jessie grinned in anticipation when Rook rang the large gong to announce the evening meal.
The sound traveled to the hired hands camped a good half mile away. It still didn’t make sense to her that she and Rook were so far from the cattle. But according to Rook, Wolf wanted the supply wagons away from the cattle in case they stampeded. She grimaced. He just wanted her away from the cattle.
When the men came riding in, Rook took his place next to her. He handed out thick chunks of steaming corn bread while Jessie, her face impassive, dipped her ladle into the thick, spicy meat, beans and rice mixture and served it up onto tin plates each weary man held out to her. With each dip into the pot, she was careful not to disturb the hot pepper.
“Thanks, Jess,” Jeremy said.
Jessie glanced up, surprised. She’d been so deep in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed her brother in line. Staring up at him, she saw how tired he looked. But before she could ask him how it was going, he’d moved on and held his plate out to Rook. After serving nearly everyone, Jessie felt disappointed when there was no sign of Wolf. Had he remained with the cattle? At sound of a rider, she glanced up and saw him riding in with Shorty. Surreptitiously, she scooped up the hidden hot pepper. Ladle ready, she waited impatiently.
Rook, seated next to her on a wooden box, turned to her. “Go fetch the rest of the corn bread for me. I’m jest too tired to git up.”
Jessie’s eyes widened with horror, but she didn’t make a big fuss over his request. Carefully, she rested the full ladle on top of the mixture in the kettle, making sure the pepper was covered. Standing, she watched Rook move over and pick up the ladle full of beans and rice.
“Git yer arse over here, Wolf. Some of us would like ta eat afore the food’s cold.”
Jessie sighed with satisfaction and quickly fled the scene of her crime. Her plan of revenge was going better than she’d dared hope. With Rook serving, Wolf wouldn’t be able to point the finger of blame at her. For good measure, she took a moment to stir another pot of beans that would be sent out to the hands still on duty. Then she leaned down and picked up two pans of corn bread.
Carrying them back to the line of men, she sat down and handed Wolf a hunk of steaming bread, keeping her eyes downcast.
Wolf sniffed his plate. “Where’d the fresh meat come from, Rook? You go hunting today?”
Rook grinned and shook his head. “Young Jess here scared ’em up.”
Jessie mumbled something in response to Wolf’s grudging praise. She kept her head down until he left the line. Her lips curved with glee when he sat down with the others and lifted his fork to his lips.
Chapter Eight
Wolf held the tin plate of food to his nose and sniffed appreciatively. The tantalizing aroma caused his mouth to water in anticipation. Picking up his fork, he scooped a large forkful of beans and rice into his mouth. He chewed, savoring the hot, spicy food. Conversation turned lively as the men seated around him joked and laughed as they ate, complimenting Duarte on the added spice to their meal and going back for more. Normally, trail food leaned toward bland and boring. After one bite, Wolf ate in earnest, enjoying the distinctive fruity flavor that Duarte said made this pepper unique.
But halfway through his meal, he quickly revised his opinion when the inside of his mouth exploded with a burning heat unlike anything he’d ever experienced. The liquid flame spread down his throat and up into his nose and brought tears to his eyes. He dropped his fork, lifted his plate to his mouth and spat out the offensive bite of food. Coughing and gasping for breath, he dropped his plate and ran toward Rook. “Water,” he said in a croak, beads of sweat popping out along his forehead and across the bridge of his nose.
Rook quickly dipped a tin cup into the water barrel and handed it to Wolf. “Here, boss,” he said, a look of concern in his eyes.
Wolf took the cup and drank with the air of a desperate man. After gulping down three more cups of water, he faced Rook. “What the hell did you put in the beans?” he rasped. He held his mouth wide-open, willing the cool air to take away the heat that continued to linger and burn.
Scratching his head, Rook furrowed his brow in confusion. “It ain’t that hot, boss, ’specially since I was real careful not too use too many of them dried peppers, like Duarte warned. Ain’t no one else seems to have trouble.”
Feeling a small measure of relief as the burning began to abate, Wolf couldn’t believe he was the only one to have felt the heat of those damn peppers. Shorty strode past him, shouting, “Hey, kid, dish me up some more of that there grub. Jest make sure there ain’t no peppers in mine. I don’t like my food that hot, only my women,” he joked.
Rook shook a finger at him. “There ain’t no peppers in there, lad. Counted them afore I put ’em in and removed them myself afore I served up.”
Wolf held his plate out to Rook and pointed to what was left of a tiny sliver of red-orange chili. “Yeah? Guess you forgot one,” he said, his throat and lips still burning. “Damn. You trying to do me in?” He straightened as a suspicious thought came to mind. He studied Jessie Jones. Every instinct within him screamed that he’d been one-upped again. He narrowed his eyes and compressed his burning and swollen lips. “Show me the peppers you removed,” he ordered Rook, never taking his eyes off Jessie.
“Now, Wolf—”
“Show me!”
Wolf followed Rook to another wagon, where the back hung down, suspended by two chains to keep it level with the wagon bed. From the waist-high work surface, Rook picked up a tin cup and dumped out the large pepper pieces. With the tip of his knife, he spread them.
He turned in puzzlement. “All there, boss. That piece you got must’ve broken off durin’ the stirrin’.”
Once again, Wolf’s gaze fell on Jessie. “I’m not too sure about that,” he said. Damn. He’d never experienced anything so hot in his life. He took a step toward the boy. If Jessie Jones thought he could make a fool of him, he’d better think again! He planned to give him lots of time to rethink the wisdom of his actions and make him sorry for indulging in his spot of mischief.
Rook’s gnarled fingers bit into his arm. “Now, Wolf, the boy didn’t have anythin’ to do with this. I’m the one who served ya up, not him. Was jest an accident. Why don’t ya have a piece of this here peach pie we has for dessert.”
Wolf glared at Rook but realized his friend was right. He’d look even more the fool if he openly accused the boy. Ignoring Rook’s peace offering, he stalked off. He didn’t believe in accidents. There was no doubt in his mind—not one little bit—that Jessie Jones had somehow managed to sabotage his meal. His jaw tightened. Young Jess would soon find himself with so much work on his hands that he’d be too tired to cause any more trouble.
The sounds of fiddle, song and laughter floated across the night air. Small glowing fires danced in the darkness along both sides of the Kansas River, sending smoky fingers upward to obscure the brightness of the heavens and settle over the water, cloaking the land, giving it a soft, muted look.
Several westward-bound parties had joined together for an evening of merrymaking. The young folk danced to the merry tunes of fiddles, work-weary women gathered together with their mending to enjoy a good gossip, while the young children ran gleefully across the green grass. Sitting apart, small groups of men gathered around campfires to smoke, pass around a flask of whiskey and compare notes and stories about the Oregon and California trails.
Guarding the oxen a short distance away, Jessie stared out toward the haze-shrouded river, longing to be a part of that joyous gathering of people who had only one common interest: reaching the new lands that promised richer lives. Turning away from the sight, she walked past the herd of oxen until she came to a lone tree. She leaned against the thick trunk and slid down it, her back resting against the rough bark as she kept watch over the livestock. Except for Sadie, who lay asleep a few feet away, she was by herself. Once again, she was on the outside looking in. Unbidden, tears of self-pity spilled down her cheeks.
Resting her head on her knees, she knew tiredness played a part in her weepiness. On top of the endless list of chores Wolf found for her to do, her clandestine late-night walks were taking their toll. How she longed for a solid night’s sleep. Lifting her head, she let the music flow through her. After a while, the sounds of the fiddles faded to the haunting harmony of several mouth organs. Jessie reached into her pocket to withdraw her own musical instrument. She lifted it to her lips and added a fourth part.
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