Follow The Wind

by Janelle Taylor

  “My name’s Nettie. What’s yours, son?”

  Jessie tried to lower her voice as she replied, “Jess, ma’am.”

  Nettie chuckled at the show of good manners and anxiety in the person she assumed to be a young man seeking his first experience with a woman of her skills. “This your first time in a saloon, Jess?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Jessie shifted nervously in her chair and wanted to flee. This situation was crazy, but there were things she needed to learn and do here. She had to be brave and cunning and steadfast in her mission.

  Nettie stroked the protruding flesh revealed by her indecently low bodice, a trick to lure men’s eyes and heat their desires. “Calm down, son. Nettie can relax you real good upstairs. You ever had a real woman before?”

  Jessie flushed a bright red at the unexpected mistake and lewd implication, a reaction she couldn’t remember having to any situation. What to do? she wondered. If she didn’t stick to her plan, this trip and Ed’s death were for naught.

  Nettie laughed again, a throaty and sultry sound. “You’ve come to the right woman, Jess. I’ve broken in more young pups than a dog has fleas. You want a drink to settle you down? There’s no need to be shy or scared. I’m the best in town.”

  “I…I…” Jessie stuttered as she tried to decide how to extricate herself without being unkind or exposing her sex. If she revealed she was a female, this woman would be embarrassed and angered. Worse, her ruse would be exposed. That could lead to failure, and to trouble.

  “You don’t have to say or do anything, son. I know everything. You’ll leave here smiling as bright as the sun and feel as loose as a busted feather pillow. Why don’t we head upstairs and get acquainted in private?”

  “I got money, ma’am, but what I need to buy is information, not…”

  Curiosity filled the prostitute’s eyes.

  Jessie hurried on. “I’ll pay you five dollars if you can tell me who’s the best gunslinger in town. I don’t mean a bragger, but a man proven to be an expert.”

  Nettie leaned over to peer under the table. “You’re packing iron, son! You ain’t looking to earn a reputation here, are you? You’ll get yourself killed.”

  “No, ma’am. I want to hire him for a job. Rustlers are raiding my pa’s ranch. We need a man good with a gun to defeat them.”

  “That’s a job for the law, son. Why did your pa send you here?”

  “The law can’t stop ’em, ma’am. We know who it is, but we ain’t got proof. A gunslinger could kill ’em or scare ’em. I rode a long way to hire help.”

  “You ain’t from around these parts?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Do I know these bad men?”

  “No, ma’am. They live where we do, far away.”

  “Five dollars for a name?” Nettie glanced at the bartender to see if he was watching them.

  Obviously the woman was tempted by the idea of cash for no work, especially money she could hide and keep. “I need a man we can trust, one who’ll obey orders.”

  Nettie’s voice was low as she leaned closer to whisper, “I know the man you need, but he ain’t in town yet. He comes in with his three brothers every few days, but the other three ain’t worth their salt. Josh is as good as a gunslinger comes and he’s loyal to who hires him. His brothers are trash, but Josh would kill any man to protect them. Josh don’t let ’em work with him, but all other times they’re as tight as a noose at a necktie social. Their ma gave ’em all names starting with J: Josh, Jim, Jake, John. He’s the man you want, son, fast as lightning and no heart against killing.”

  “I can wait around to meet him. What’s his last name?”

  “The money first. But don’t let anybody see you give it to me. My boss won’t take kindly to giving out such help.”

  Jessie pulled five dollars from her pocket and crushed it in her palm. She extended her balled fist across the table. Nettie’s eager hands covered it, and the money was passed along without anyone’s notice. The sly woman secreted the cash into her cleavage, then grinned.

  Before Nettie could reveal the gunman’s name, the halfdrunk man came to their table and jostled it as he staggered. He seized Nettie’s wrist and yanked on it. “Come on, Nettie. I dun paid fur you. I need release bad.”

  “What you need is a long piss, Jake. I’m busy. Get one of the other girls.”

  “I want you, woman. They ain’t good like you is.”

  “I’m busy here, Jake. You’ll have to wait a while.”

  Jake looked Jessie over with red-streaked eyes and a surly expression, then howled with laughter. He grabbed at Nettie again, but she scrambled out of reach and glared at him. “You turnin’ down a real man for a snot-nose kid?”

  “Behave yourself, Jake Adams.”

  Jake tottered to Jessie’s chair and shoved on her shoulder. “Git outta here, boy. Git home to your ma and pa where you belong.”

  “Leave him be, Jake. We’ve already struck a deal, so you’ll have to wait your turn.”

  “I ain’t beddin’ no whore after no boy just diddled her. Git, afore I’m riled.”

  Jessie saw trouble in the making. Several men had ceased their games to observe the action. The bartender was staring at them, but made no attempt to deal with the smoldering situation. The old man at the piano halted his fingers. Silence and tension filled the room. Everyone’s expressions warned the redhead this was not a man to fool with. “You go with Jake, Nettie,” Jessie said, “We’ll talk when you finish. I’ll wait here for you.”

  “Ain’t no need to wait, boy. I dun rented this whore all night.”

  Jessie tried to appease the belligerent man. “What if I come back tomorrow, Nettie?” she asked the woman.

  Nettie ruined Jessie’s attempt by saying, “Don’t be rude and stupid, Jake. This customer asked first, so he’s next with me. Let’s go upstairs, son.”

  “Ain’t no way, woman, even if he only takes five minutes—if he’s got that much strength. You git out of this saloon pronto, boy. Come back when you’re dry behind the ears. Fact, you git out of town and don’t come back. If you do, I’ll whip yore arse all over this saloon.”

  Jessie had to cool the man’s temper. She could see Nettie tomorrow. “No need to get upset, mister. I didn’t mean no harm.”

  Jake punched her shoulder roughly. “Nettie belongs to me and my brothers when we’re in town,” he said. “Ask anybody, boy. Now git! Move faster, boy!”

  Jessie stood, her right hand unthinkingly and unwisely settling on her gunbutt.

  Jake backed off a few steps. With a threatening scowl, he shouted, “You challenging me for this whore, boy? I’ll kill you where you stand!”

  Jessie jerked her hand away from the pistol and half raised both hands, her palms facing the man. “No, mister. I don’t want no trouble. I just wanted—”

  “I don’t care what you wanted!” Jake grabbed a handful of vest and shirt and yanked her toward the nearby doors. “Git movin’ afore I use you to wipe dust and spit from the floor. Hell’s fire, that’s what you need, a good lickin’.”

  Jake balled his fist to strike Jessie, but Nettie seized his arm. “No, Jake! He’s just a kid. Don’t beat him! Somebody stop this crazy fool!” she shrieked, but no one came to Jessie’s aid because the customers knew Jake Adams and his mean brothers too well to interfere.

  With force and roughness, Jake threw Jessie against the slatted doors. Something kept them from opening and her from falling outside on her rear.

  Jake mistook his thwarted effort as resistance from Jessie. “I warned you, boy. Now, yo’re gonna git it. I’m takin’ you outside to settle this. If yo’re too yellar to draw against me, I’ll whop you good. I’m gonna break yore fingers and yore laigs and make you crawl home. You won’t never wanta come here and cross Jake Adams agin.” He lifted his balled fist to begin his threatened task.

  Before Jessie could react in self-defense, a man parted the doors and captured Jake’s fleshy fist in midair. In the excitement, no one h
ad noticed the stranger who’d been watching from outside.

  “Leave the boy alone, mister. He’ll leave peaceably.”

  Jake was enraged by the daring interruption. He jerked his hand free and glared at the man who stepped inside. “Yore nose don’t belong in my business, stranger. Git movin’ or you’ll answer to me and my guns, too.”

  The challenger didn’t back down. “Let the boy go,” he ordered.

  Jake backed off a short distance and planted his boots two feet apart. He placed his hands on his hips, near his guns. “Says who?”

  “Me. No real man picks on a harmless kid. Don’t shame yourself in public. Get back to your whiskey, cards, and woman. I don’t like seeing boys pushed around or mistreated. He’ll go home and there’ll be no trouble.”

  Jessie couldn’t take her blue gaze from her rescuer. His hazel eyes revealed no fear, only slow-burning anger and determination, a warning Jake ignored. Black hair peeked from beneath his light hat and lay against a darkly tanned face, one more handsome than Jessie had ever seen. This, she decided, was a real man. He was tall, brave, powerful, intimidating, and confident. With him assisting her, she was no longer afraid, but her wits were reeling.

  “I’ll give you one chance to git, mister,” Jake said, bringing Jessie back to reality as she stood between them. “If n you don’t, we’ll have to tangle.”

  “There’s no need for us to fight. Let the boy go home, then I’ll buy you a drink to make peace. We’ll play cards and get acquainted.”

  Jake fumed. He shoved Jessie at the stranger to throw him off balance and get the upper hand, then grabbed for his gun. “No man—”

  The stranger pushed her aside and she stumbled, then straightened herself. The black-haired man was holstering his gun before it seemed possible for anyone to draw and fire. Two shots had rung out: the stranger’s accurate one and Jake’s wild one as he fell backward, dead on impact with the floor.

  Nettie smiled and said in a voice only Jessie and the stranger could hear, “Good riddance. You two best git fast. It was a fair fight, but his brothers won’t see it that way. They’re meaner than cornered rattlers. Nobody here will go against the Adams boys to help you. Hurry. They could be down at Luke’s saloon. Sorry, Jess, but Josh wouldn’t take your job after you got Jake killed.”

  “Thanks, Nettie, but I don’t think I’ll need him now,” the redhead remarked, then sent a side glance at her champion to make her point to the woman.

  Nettie smiled. “You’re right, Jess. Get moving before his brothers come.”

  Obviously the stranger didn’t want more trouble or attention, either, as he said, “I’m leaving, boy, and you should, too. No need to wait for trouble to strike if you know it’s ahead and you can ride another trail just as easy.”

  Jessie watched him head down the street toward the stable at an easy stride. Nobody tried to stop him or to avenge Jake. She wasn’t about to hang around and court danger, either! She ran to the hotel, stuffed her belongings into her saddlebags, and left by the back door. She rushed to overtake him before he left town. The stranger had paid for his horse’s care and had mounted to leave.

  “Wait!” Jessie yelled to him. Catching her breath, she added, “Let me ride out with you. I just have to fetch my horses.”

  The stranger glanced down the street and didn’t see anyone coming after them but knew the boy might need help and protection for a while. “Hurry.”

  Jessie claimed her horses, paid the man, saddled her paint, and mounted. She joined her rescuer and off they rode with Big Ed’s sorrel in tow. The redhead knew this was the man she wanted for her job. Somehow she must convince him to come to work for the Lanes. She never stopped to think of the peril in heading for the wilderness with a dangerous and mysterious man or imagine what he would and could do after discovering she was a woman. She was too excited and enchanted to think beyond, I’ve found him.

  Chapter Three

  They had galloped for twenty minutes before Jessie yelled to the man beside her, “Wait up! We’re going in the wrong direction. I live the other way.”

  The stranger reined in his mount and looked at her. “This is the way I’m heading. You best skirt town and get home fast.”

  The redhead knew she had to talk fast. She saw surprise fill his hazel eyes when she blurted out, “You need a job, mister? My papa is looking for a man good with his gun. That’s why I rode into town to search for the right one. Nettie was about to give me a name when that drunk interfered. We have big trouble with a man named Wilbur Fletcher who wants our land. With your skills, you can scare him off or teach us how to beat him. The law can’t help us. He’s tried to buy our ranch, but we won’t sell. Now he’s trying to scare us off or break us with losses. We need help before he kills us.”

  “I don’t get involved in other people’s troubles, boy. I saved you once, so git home while you’re in one piece. I won’t fight over you again.”

  “But you got involved back there even without my asking or paying.”

  “If Jake had tossed you out or only roughed you up a bit, I wouldn’t have intruded. He was going to hurt you badly or kill you. I don’t like to see young boys mistreated for no reason; it riles me into not thinking straight. Stopping Jake’s hand was like giving him a challenge. I got you outta there in one piece. No reason for me to take more risks for a stranger. Jake caught me tired, thirsty, and mean. All I got back there was a bath and food. I didn’t even get a glass of whiskey or rest. You got the wrong man. I take care of myself, nobody else.”

  Jessie had witnessed a slight reaction to her story, as if the gunslinger was moved by it and didn’t want to be or show he was. “We can pay you good,” she pressed. “You can pick any horse you want from our stock. We’ll buy you the best saddle made. If you can’t stay long, just teach us how to fight. A man like you has dealt with bad men before, so you know what to do. We don’t. Please come home with me.”

  “Your ma and pa will whip you good for bringing home a man like me. You don’t even know me, boy. I could be dangerous. I could rob you and leave you here dead. Everyone would think that drunk’s brothers did it. Or I could ride home with you, do in you and your family, and blame it on that landgrabber.”

  Jessie shook her head and refuted, “You’re a threat only to men like that bully and men like Wilbur Fletcher. If you wanted to harm me, we wouldn’t have gotten this far from town, and you wouldn’t have saved me back there if you’re as bad as you think. If the law’s after you, mister, we don’t care. You’ll be safe at our ranch. We need help real bad. You’re the best gunslinger I’ve seen. You’re fast and you’re clever. A wicked man wouldn’t stop to reason with an enemy before drawing his guns. He wouldn’t waste time and trouble talking before he settled the matter with his pistols or fists. You left town easily and quickly so you must want to avoid trouble and attention. I’m sorry if saving me spoiled your plans for rest and a good time.”

  “You’re wasting your breath, boy. The answer’s no. My only concerns are my neck and freedom. I don’t endanger them for anybody or anything. I keep to myself and stay on the move. All I got in the world is right here with me. It’s time you learn nobody does anything for anybody without a selfish reason.”

  Jessie recalled her description of a gunslinger to her father, but her gut instinct said little of those harsh words were true about this man. Except, she thought, he did have keen wits, iron guts, and expert skills. She remembered what her grandmother had said about fighting evil—that it make a person hard, cold, and ruthless. A man like this must have done it plenty of times. He must be so alone, and couldn’t be happy. That moved her deeply. She wondered what pain and hunger drove him onward in such a miserable existence. What was he searching and starving for? Himself? Importance? Some lost truth? Peace? Yet he didn’t seem as hard, cold, and uncaring as he acted and believed. Maybe his fatigue had lowered his guard around her. Maybe he was trying to hide or control all good emotions so he couldn’t be hurt. Whatever he had to prove,
he could do it against Wilbur Fletcher!

  “You do have a selfish reason to help us,” Jessie persisted. “I can offer you a comfortable bed, hot food, rest, and money. All you have to do is protect our ranch and hands from that greedy bastard. Your horse looks ready to drop dead and that cheap saddle can’t sit good. Stay long enough to earn new ones. When Fletcher sees we have help and won’t be scared off, he’ll have to give up.”

  As the man shook his head, she extended her hand and said, “I’m Jessie Lane. My father owns the Box L Ranch thirty miles east of Fort Davis, four days southwest of here. What’s your name? If you have a famous reputa—”

  “I don’t, and I want to keep it that way,” he interrupted, his eyes chilling. “Men with names don’t get any peace or privacy. I’m not from around these parts, and I don’t ride anywhere picking trouble. Name’s Navarro, boy.”

  “That your first or last name?”

  “Just Navarro.” It didn’t matter if he told the boy that much, as the law was seeking Carl Breed, Junior, and that wasn’t his name. Even as he refused his offer, he realized a secluded ranch might be the ideal hideout for a while. He needed to replace the stolen horse and saddle, and to rest. He had escaped four months ago and put distance between him and that cruel northern Arizona prison he’d been in for two and a half years. He told himself to take what he needed and to ride on, but there was something about the boy’s innocent face and pleading blue eyes that reached deep inside him and yanked at his feelings, emotions he thought he had destroyed or repressed long ago. This boy loved his family and was desperate to save them and his home, something Navarro didn’t have. Why not use them to help myself? he asked. It’s his fault I didn’t go unnoticed back there, so the little firehead owes me.

  “I won’t mislead you; Fletcher has hired guns working for him. He’s mean, evil, and dangerous. This job won’t be quick or easy. But we’ll stand a chance of winning with you on our side. Without you, we’ll lose everything.”

  Navarro removed his tan hat with his left hand, mopped his brow with his other sleeve, and replaced it. Indecision filled him. This Fletcher sounded like a Carl Breed who needed and deserved punishment. What good had it been to rescue this boy if he allowed that bastard to terrorize and murder him? He knew what it was like to be used and mistreated by a cruel man, and bitter hostility surged through him. “What if Fletcher doesn’t give up or I get killed by his men?”