Follow The Wind

by Janelle Taylor

  Many carcasses were hauled to the south pasture on Wilbur Fletcher’s spread and piled there to be found in a few hours. While Matt and the others burned blankets and took the extra horses back to the corral, Jessie and Navarro made their last haul northward. The plan was to join them afterward at the ranch, which was closer to their last destination.

  After covering their trail, Navarro joined Jessie at a group of trees near their boundary. He saw her leaning against the largest trunk, appearing so still as to be asleep on her feet. She didn’t move as he approached. He dismounted and went to Jessie, whose eyes remained closed. His gaze scanned the woman who was also smelly, filthy, and exhausted.

  Navarro tugged at her arm. “Let’s go, Jessie,” he said, “so you can get into bed. You worked hard; you need rest.”

  Jessie forced her eyes open, eyes that were red-streaked and puffy. She was barely able to move or stay awake. “Worked hard for a woman?” she teased.

  Navarro smiled and countered, “For anybody.”

  Jessie yawned and stretched. “I, should have told them we’d camp here. I dread that long ride home. Blazes, I’m sore and tired. I’m sure you are, too.”

  “If we don’t get back, they’ll worry and think we’ve been captured. I’ll help you. You can ride double with me.” Navarro held her arm with one hand and circled her waist with his other one. At his sorrel, he released his grasp. He gathered the reins of the packhorses and secured them to a rope, which he tied to his saddle. He rolled the stained blankets and their gloves into a bundle that was strapped to one horse, to be burned later. He mounted, then bent over to pull her up onto his lap. When she was settled in his arms, he led the horses away. Her Ben followed. “Take a siesta. I’ll wake you when we near the house.”

  Jessie looked up at Navarro’s handsome face. It felt wonderful to be in his arms. How she wished they were going home to bathe and sleep together. After this episode, surely her father thought more highly of Navarro. If not, soon Jedidiah Lane would be compelled to alter his low opinion.

  Despite her sorry condition and fatigue, she savored being so close to her lover. She wished they were camping somewhere secluded and private, with no one waiting for their return. “Thanks for all you did today, Navarro. You’ve proven I was right about choosing you. Papa was most impressed. I’m glad, because he’s too distracted to think clearly these days. He doesn’t mean to be cold or rude; he just has so many worries.”

  “I know, Jessie. It’s as bad as you told me, or worse. I’m worried, too. This Fletcher shows a crazy streak. Crazy plus mean is dangerous.”

  “Whatever he does, be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “The same goes with you, woman.”

  Their gazes locked—searching, speaking, revealing, caressing. Each moved toward the other, fusing their mouths in an urgent and needed kiss. Navarro stopped the horses and held Jessie as close as he could. The kiss drifted into others, each deepening and lengthening. This was a time in their lives when they needed each other for strength, help, and survival …and love.

  Finally, each seemed to realize that they could not repeat the sensual experience they had enjoyed in the cabin six days ago, not here and now. But their attraction had grown stronger since they’d arrived at the Box L, and each knew it would grow even more during the days ahead. They would find a place to be together. That seemed to help them through this difficult moment when a union was impossible. Jessie smiled when Navarro kissed the tip of her nose, and both passed understanding to the other. Their journey home continued. Jessie fell asleep in Navarro’s embrace. As the fugitive watched her slumbering peacefully, the feeling of tranquility left him.

  The desperado tried to keep his yearning gaze and thoughts off the woman in his arms. If not for his criminal past, this was the woman he could spend his life with. The people here could change him for the better. They could give him peace and happiness. He wished there was a way he could obtain a new face so he could stay with Jessie forever. He wished they could keep riding, travel far away to where his past couldn’t reach them. If he dared ask, would Jessie go with him? If she refused, was it worth it to seek a new beginning alone? If she agreed, what if his past did catch up with them? What would become of his love then, after she had sacrificed her home and family in Texas to be with him? He was taking too many risks to be with her now; he couldn’t take more with her life at stake. He wanted Jessica Lane more than he had ever wanted anything, but…No, he decided, it was too dangerous and selfish. Once she was safe, their relationship must end.

  When they neared the corral, it was almost sunup. Hands were stirring. Matt and Jed hurried to meet them. Her father had slept fitfully, worried about his daughter. Pete and Smokey had eaten and gone to bed. Mathew Cordell had awaited Jessie and Navarro’s return.

  Navarro walked the horses at a slow pace to avoid rousing Jessie. He motioned to the two men to talk softly. In a near whisper, Navarro asked, “Can I take her to her room, sir? She’s exhausted. The job’s finished, and our tracks are covered.” The fugitive noticed the look of jealousy that gleamed in Matt’s eyes.

  Reluctant but helpless, Jed nodded permission.

  Navarro left the other horses with the two watchful men and rode to the house. He dismounted with Jessie in his arms, and carried her into the house. Gran smiled and led him to Jessie’s room. The older woman tossed a blanket over the clean covers so her granddaughter’s dirty clothes would not soil them. Navarro laid Jessie down and removed her boots without awakening her. He glanced at Gran as she handed him a second blanket to place over her.

  Jessie sighed and curled to her side, but remained asleep. She did not see Navarro nod to Martha Lane and depart to report to Jed. Navarro then ate and turned in until noon. As for the redhead, she slept until one o’clock.

  Upon awakening, Jessie was told by her grandmother that Jed and Matt were riding the east boundary to check for trouble from their enemy. The older woman added that she had seen Navarro working in the branding pen with the hands. Before the women could say more, Tom came to the house on a break.

  “Jessie, you’re up! Navarro said you’d tell me about the coyotes. He’s too busy to talk. Me, too. I’m keeping tally again. Pa said I was good at it.”

  Jessie related the grim tale of yesterday’s and last night’s labors. “I can’t imagine what that wicked man will try next. Tell me about your adventure with Navarro. We haven’t had a chance to hear about it, have we, Gran?”

  The older woman coaxed, “Yes, Tom, what happened?”

  The boy’s eyes brightened. He told how he guided Navarro to the area and how they spied on Fletcher’s settlement and men. “It was fun, Jessie. He don’t treat me like others do. I hate when people pity me and stare at me. You know what he said? He said everybody can do something special. He said I just have to learn where my path is and ride it. I like him, Jessie. I hope he stays with us after the trouble is over.”

  Jessie thought it was best not to display her matching feelings before the watchful Gran. “It would be nice, Tom, but I doubt it,” she said lightly. “Drifters don’t like to settle down in one place long. He’s not a cowhand. Once this trouble is over, there’ll be nothing to keep him here.”

  Tom frowned, then asked, “You think the trouble will last a long time?”

  “I hope not,” Gran answered. “We have work to do.”

  “Speaking of work, you and I better get busy, Tom. I’ll help with the branding until Papa and Matt return. I’ll quit in time to help with supper, Gran.”

  Jessie and her brother walked to the noisy and dusty area. Navarro turned the tally task back over to Tom. The redhead eyed the weary flankers. “Navarro, think you can do Walt’s job while I take Jimmy Joe’s?” she asked.

  Jimmy Joe glanced at the redhead and grinned. “You been lazin’ around long enough, huh?”

  “I deserved a nap, Jimmy Joe, after working day and night straight through. Maybe you’re as tough as me and don’t need relievin
g,” she teased in return.

  “You know I can’t show up the boss’s daughter. Take my seat fast.”

  Jimmy Joe let the bawling calf loose and jumped to his feet. “I need a good stretchin’. My arms and legs are tighter’n strung barbwire. Thanks.”

  “Want to try it, Navarro?” she asked again.

  “I’ve been watching a lot. I think I can do it. I’ll willing to try.”

  Carlos Reeves dragged a calf over to them with a rope around its hindleg. He grinned as the dark-haired man grabbed it by the neck hide and struggled until it was flipped to its side on the ground. “Pin his head with a knee across his neck. Grab his foreleg and bend it back. He won’t be able to move if you hold tight.”

  Navarro followed the instructions. He watched Jessie seize the right hindleg and stretch it backward, then grip it firmly. Her right boot propped against the knee joint of the calf’s lower leg and held it motionless. Rusty stamped the creature with the Box L brand, while Jefferson Clark notched its ear.

  “Girl!” Jessie shouted to the black marker and to the tally keeper.

  The next time Navarro took a calf from Miguel, he had clearly mastered the task. Jessie shouted over the noise, “Boy!” When the “ironman” moved, Jessie leapt up, placed her left heel against the calf’s bottom leg, straddled its body with her right leg, and lifted the animal’s top limb. Jefferson deftly castrated the male. Jessie released her grip and stepped aside, then Navarro did the same. The calf trotted to its bellowing mother, who nuzzled his bloody ear.

  “I can’t believe how strong and skilled you are, Jessie.”

  “For a female, Navarro?” she jested.

  “This time, yep, for a woman.” He looked at the brander and asked, “Is there anything she can’t do as good as the best man, Rusty?”

  “Nope. She can even use hot irons as good as me.”

  Jefferson chuckled and added, “She kin do my job, but she ain’t as fast.”

  “Your job is my least liked chore, Jefferson. I’m glad you’re good at it and never sick. I don’t like paining any critter. But you boys are wrong. I can’t do everything. I can’t take over for Carlos. The last time I tried to tame a half-broken horse, he almost busted my arm and leg. Did get my nose. I’ll leave that dangerous chore to the best broncbuster in Texas. Right, Carlos?”

  The half-Mexican grinned. “Acaso, chica.”

  “Perhaps, nothing,” she retorted with a merry laugh.

  Miguel dragged a calf to them as the other roper returned to the herd.

  “Miguel there is the best roper in Texas. He can lasso any part of a critter, even a lowered tail. I can rope heads, but I’m not very good at legs.”

  “That is because you do not practice, amiga. No need when you have me.”

  “You see, Navarro, I have talented help. I only learn enough to take over in a bind. I have to know a little about everything. How else can I give the right orders? If a woman’s gonna be owner and boss, she best know what she’s saying.”

  “Jessie does,” Rusty remarked. “She couldn’t know or do better if she was Jed’s son. You never catch her sleeping on her elbow when she rides herd.”

  “I don’t dare, Rusty. You’d ride by, knock it loose, and send me falling. He always sneaks up on unseasoned wranglers and teaches them a lesson the first week. One’s head snapped so hard that I thought his neck was broken.”

  “That’s ’cause he was six feet under in sleep. A man that deep won’t hear or see nothing. He never napped on my shift again.”

  When Jimmy Joe and Walt returned, Jessie said, “I have to get washed up and help Gran with supper. You boys need anything else before I go?”

  Everyone shook their heads “no” so Jessie added, “Navarro, you didn’t hire on for this kind of work so you can knock off whenever you’re ready.”

  “You’re shorthanded so I’ll help them finish today. Tomorrow I want to ride out and see how Fletcher is taking our challenge.”

  “I’ll go with you. I’m sure he’s furious and plotting something new.”

  Jessie took care of her other chores, then bathed and changed into a skirt and blouse. She went to the kitchen and assisted her grandmother with the meal.

  When Jed and Matt returned, she was told they hadn’t seen or heard anything from Fletcher or his hirelings. That made Jessie suspicious and worried, but all she could do was wait.

  On Saturday, the bad news arrived before Jessie and Navarro went riding: Fletcher’s men had destroyed a windmill in the area most lacking in water supply.

  Jed’s face flushed with new anger. “Just like us, he hit at a windmill. I can’t keep stock from drifting into that area without posting men there, and I hate to pull any hands off branding. With no water around, the stock will be too far from the river and other windmills before they’re thirsty. They’ll start stampeding in a search for it, or get too weak to make it to another source. We’ll have to repair that windmill today and move the stock to water.”

  “Wait, Papa. We have to get those calves branded so we can turn them and their mothers loose to graze. Big John can work on the repairs while Navarro and I stand guard for him. You and four of the boys can round up the scattered stock and get them to water. You should check other windmills and for cut fences. Matt can team up with Roy as flankers with Jimmy Joe and Walt. Hank can tend the branding coals, and Gran can cook extra for the boys. It shouldn’t take but a day or two, if the damage isn’t bad. Big John already has part of the job done; that’s the windmill we were going to replace soon,” she reminded him. Jessie had seen how upset her father was, and had taken control of the situation to give him time to clear his head.

  “I forgot. It’s that old one in the southwest area. We’ll get supplies loaded in a wagon, then you three can head out. Be real careful-like, Jess. I don’t trust Fletcher. He might have men waiting around to prevent repairs.”

  “Navarro and I can handle them, Papa. Don’t worry.”

  Nails, hammers, saws, sharpeners, wood, hole diggers, food and water supplies, bedrolls, weapons, and new windmill parts were loaded on a wagon. Big John Williams, who usually tended the windmills by checking and oiling and repairing them, climbed aboard and flicked the reins. Jessie and Navarro mounted their horses and rode one on each side of the wagon. They headed southwestward.

  Several hours later, they arrived at the scene of Fletcher’s latest attack. Big John examined the damage while Navarro scouted the nearby area. Jessie waited for the large black man to give his opinion.

  “Deys chopped ’er laigs an’ head good, Miss Jessie. ’Er gears ain’t bad. Shaft an’ pump looks to be all right. I kin replace dem broken blades an’ tail. I’ll be needin’ yore he’p wif dem busted laigs.”

  “Let’s get unloaded and get to it, Big John. Just tell me what to do.”

  When Navarro returned and reported sighting no threat nearby, he helped Jessie and Big John get prepared for the task ahead.”

  As they labored, Jessie told him, “These are made specially for areas like this one. Would you believe a New Englander invented them? I’ll bet he’d never even seen this kind of rugged countryside. Thank goodness we have plenty of wind. Ever since they came about in ’54, they’ve helped open up dry areas out here.” She explained how the windmills worked: the gears at the top were run by windpower on the eighteen blades, causing the mechanism in a box to force the shaft up and down to pump water. The liquid poured into a pond or large trough. The tail controlled the direction of the wheel, keeping its face into the wind. During rainy spells or to avoid pumping too much water on brisk days, the tail was folded to halt its work, as a wise man never risked wasting his precious water supply.

  While Navarro assisted Big John, Jessie stood guard with her Winchester in her hands. She glanced at the two men as they cleared the four holes of old posts and debris, then placed the lower section that John had constructed in them. A second section was added, then a third. The loud sound of hammers against nails rang out across the quiet la
ndscape, accompanied by the noise of sawing wood. John positioned the small platform and secured it to the tower. A temporary post was hauled up the ladder to aid with lifting the multivaned wheel. Navarro joined John on the platform to help with that task.

  Jessie observed with apprehension as the two labored on the small surface so high above the hard ground. Windmills were twenty to thirty feet tall and she sighed in relief when Navarro climbed down in safety. She saw her love use a rope to pull the remaining parts and tools up to John. Soon the new tail was attached. Gears were oiled. The shaft and pump were checked again. As the last rays of daylight vanished, John turned the crank at the base to put the tail to work. The broad piece moved with the breeze. The wheel faced windward, and turned. After a few creaking sounds, the speed increased. The shaft moved up and down, and water poured into the trough. Jessie, John, and Navarro cheered.

  It was too late to return home. While the men loaded the wagon to leave at dawn and placed bedrolls on the ground, Jessie prepared them a meal of fried meat, scrambled eggs, red-eye gravy, and warmed biscuits from Gran. The campfire glowed and crackled. Smoke drifted skyward. The smell of aromatic coffee teased their nostrils as a full moon shone overhead.

  As they ate, Jessie said, “It’s so quiet tonight, too quiet. I doubt there’s a coyote left in the area. Those he didn’t have killed have fled in fear. The pronghorns took off, too. Haven’t seen one all day. Papa should have the stock back in this area by midmorning. What next, I wonder?”

  “He’s a bad ’un, Miss Jessie. I dun seed his kind afore.”

  Jessie knew he was referring to his days of slavery. “I know, Big John.”

  When they finished and all chores were completed, Jessie asked, “Navarro, would you like to take a walk? I need to relax before I turn in or I won’t sleep any.”