Follow The Wind

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Follow The Wind Page 37

by Janelle Taylor


  Monday morning, June nineteenth, Jessica Lane and Mathew Cordell climbed into the stagecoach at Fort Stockton. Their horses would be boarded there and retrieved upon their return next week. They had eaten breakfast together, then headed out for San Antonio.

  The stage traveled at a slow pace and halted every fifteen miles at swing stations to change teams. They headed eastward to the Pecos River, then southward to the crossing point, passing the ruins of Fort Lancaster on Live Oak Creek that had been evacuated in ’61. Early afternoon, they stopped for a light meal, and finally around eight o’clock they pulled into a home station on the right bank of Devils River to spend the night. They could see the nearby ruins of Camp Hudson, deserted in ’68. After a hearty meal cooked by the keeper’s wife, the passengers went to their assigned places and turned in to sleep.

  The bumpy journey continued southeastward after breakfast and followed the same schedule. They headed into the Hill Country where the stage often had to slow for rolling terrain. Hills and peaks were in all directions, and the coach seemed to roll as they did, but not as smoothly. The landscape was dotted with color from bluebonnets, Indian paintbrush, purplish verbena, daisies, firewheels, cactus; and greenery. Mesquites, junipers, live oaks, and occasional redbuds and willows covered the hills. Sometimes early in the morning or late in the evening, they saw bobcats, javelinas, coyotes, deer, skunks, and badgers. When the stage was slowed by terrain, they even glimpsed rattlers, mice, and spiders. On nearly every bush and rock, a variety of lizards sunned themselves, undisturbed by their passing. It seemed as if this area was alive with vegetation and life, even if it was hot and dusty inside the jarring coach.

  On the right side of the Las Moras Creek they passed Fort Clark, established in ’52 and still occupied. Heading eastward, they crossed the Nueces River. Nearing eight again, they halted for the night at Uvalde Station near the ruins of Fort Inge on the bank of the Leon River. It was close to the junction of the road to Eagle Pass at the Rio Grande border. Uvalde had been notoriously dangerous in the fifties and sixties, and the driver said it wasn’t much better these days. He didn’t need to advise the weary, bone-sore passengers to stay at the station and get a good night’s sleep. They did.

  It was nearing dusk when Matt said, “We’ll be there soon, Jessie. Looks like we’ll make it without any trouble.”

  “Good. I’m ready for a nice meal, a hot bath, and a soft bed.”

  They hadn’t traveled as-far that day; their progress had been slower because of the hilly countryside. Matt pointed to San Antonio in the distance.

  As Jessie watched the town come closer, she remarked, “It’s so large. I love it every time I come here. I hope Mr. Turly has some good bulls for sale.”

  “He always does, so don’t worry.”

  They hadn’t talked much during the journey because of the other passengers. They had watched the scenery, and dozed. Reading, as Jessie quickly learned, was impossible because of the bouncing ride. She ached all over, even more than she did after eighteen hours or more in the saddle.

  The stagecoach pulled into the station at the edge of town. Matt helped Jessie down. He hired a buggy driver to carry them and their luggage to a hotel. After they registered, they were guided to their rooms. They made plans to bathe, change, and meet for dinner downstairs.

  When Jessie came down to join Matt, he was waiting at the base of the steps. His hair was combed and waved from his face and his chocolate eyes were bright with pleasure and admiration. He smiled, revealing white teeth that stood out against his deeply tanned face. His garments—white shirt, black vest, coat, and pants—fit him like a glove, displaying his broad shoulders and trim waist. Mathew Cordell “cut a fine figure,” as her Papa used to say.

  Enchanted, Matt gazed at the female approaching him. Even though she was beautiful dirty and in work clothes and with a braid, she sure looked different all dressed up. Her auburn tresses were pinned up in lovely curls that bounced when she walked. Her gown was slightly off her shoulders. He found that golden expanse of flesh enticing. The neckline, lower than what she normally wore, made her neck seem longer and silkier. The puffy short sleeves revealed arms that were also golden and firm from hard work. The waist was snug and exposed her slenderness. The flowing skirt moved with her, and he realized how graceful and feminine she was. Never had she appeared more like a ravishing woman than she did tonight. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  Jessie walked around the foreman, eyeing him up and down. She smiled and jested, “We clean up good for ranch hands, Matt.”

  “You’re beautiful, Jessie. I’ve never seen that dress before, or your hair like that. I’ll have to fight the men off you tonight.”

  Jessie mellowed under his gaze and compliment. She smoothed her skirt as she replied, “Gran made it for me from a Butterick catalogue pattern. This is the first time I’ve worn it. I love it, but it feels so…sinful,” she teased as she fingered her bare neck, then laughed. “The woman had her hair this way in the same picture. Does it look all right? I feel strange all trussed up.”

  “Like I said, beautiful. I’ve never seen a prettier woman.”

  She knew he was being sincere. “Thanks, Matt. I had to do something to get me out of the dark hole I’ve been in lately. I must say, you look handsome yourself. Don’t grow a mustache again. You look so good without it.”

  “Then it’s gone forever, Boss Lady. You ready to eat?”

  “Starving. It’s been a long time since that skimpy meal at two. I want the whole barrel: steak, potatoes, bread, pie, and wine. We deserve to treat ourselves tonight. It’s been a long battle, Matt.”

  He stroked her cheek and urged, “Don’t go sad, Jessie.”

  “You know me so well, Mathew Cordell. I’m trying, really I am. I just need a little more time to get used to all the changes this war with Fletcher brought.”

  “You will, Jessie, and I’ll be there every step to help you.”

  “That’s the only reason I haven’t lost courage, Matt. Help me keep from making mistakes. Speak up anytime. You know I trust you and depend on you more than anyone.”

  “I feel the same way, Jessie. I’ll always be right beside you.”

  Matt guided her into the eating area. Heads turned and eyes widened as they touched on the auburn-haired beauty in her flowing blue gown. Whispers started as people asked who she was. As they skirted one table, Jessie heard a man repeat what the clerk had told him: “She’s Miss Jessica Lane from the Box L Ranch. She’s the owner, She’s knows as much as men, more than some. She’s in the Cattlemen’s Association. Here to buy bulls. Smart woman. Real tough.”

  “All that and beautiful, too.” Jessie grinned at his friend’s response.

  The redhead had never thought of herself as beautiful, but from the way the men in the room were staring at her, it seemed to be true. It both surprised and pleased her. As they were seated, men continued to stare at her or glance at her. When she caught their flirtatious gazes, they nodded and smiled. Jessie felt a surge of joy and pride, and a splash of power, wash over her at their reactions. She quickly warned herself not to become vain like her sister, who used her looks as a weapon. She laughed softly. When Matt questioned her, she smiled and whispered, “If they could see me like I usually look, they wouldn’t take a second glance.”

  “You’re wrong, Jessie. You look beautiful all the time.”

  “Sure I do, Matt, even when I’m covered in dirt and sweat in men’s clothes.”

  “Have I ever lied to you?”

  “No, but you’re prejudiced.”

  “Am I?” he countered, then grinned.

  Jessie looked at his handsome face and gleaming eyes. “Yes, you are, but thanks. If you’ll notice, Mr. Cordell, I’m not the only one getting bold looks. I might have to fight off some eager women for your attention tonight.”

  “No, Jessie, you’d never lose me to another woman.”

  He seemed so serious. She tried to pass it off lightly. “Good. Let’s see if we c
an get some service. I’m ravenous.”

  Matt smiled again, then looked over the menu he had been handed.

  Jessie fretted over her foreman’s reaction to her tonight. She recalled what Mary Louise and Navarro had said about Matt’s feelings for her, and that reflection frightened and dismayed her. The man had never made a romantic overture toward her, and she didn’t know what she would do if he did. She told herself she was mistaken, that Matt only loved her as a friend, as a girl he had been around since he was eighteen and she was seven. He had worked for her father for four years before going off to the War Between the States for two years, then he’d returned. He had been twenty-four, and she an impressionable thirteen. For the last ten years, he had been the foreman of,their ranch. Jessie remembered all the years they had spent together, all the days and nights they had shared. They had been and were still close. She always felt safe around Matt. Although she had had a girlish passion for him years ago, she hadn’t thought of him in a romantic way since then. Still, Matt was a handsome and virile man. There were eleven years between them, but it seemed less of a difference as the years passed. He had been a quiet, soft-spoken, serious, and reserved man—until Navarro’s arrival on the scene. Now, it was as if he had been jarred awake, as if he had felt threatened by…Yes, a rival for her! No matter, her heart belonged to Navarro Breed, wherever he was.

  As the pleasant and relaxing evening continued, Jessie found herself watching and listening to Mathew Cordell with great interest. It was strange how she had never seen or thought of him in this light before. Matt had always been there, always dependable, loyal, and hardworking, and always in the background. Lordy, she did not want to hurt him. She prayed that he didn’t love her or want her, even though that would pinch her heart a mite. But it had only been ten days since Navarro had left, and she still couldn’t believe she had lost him forever.

  No, her heart cried, not forever. Yet Jessie realized the hopelessness of their situation. She remembered: “Don’t wait, Jess. I won’t be back, ever. I can’t.” She feared she had seen Navarro for the last time.

  “Jessie? Is something wrong?” Matt asked for the second time.

  The redhead looked at him and shook her head, causing her pinned curls to shimmer. “Just thinking about the past. I have to stop doing that. Sorry, Matt.”

  At Mr. Turly’s breeding ranch, Jessie and Matt looked over the bulls he showed them. The bloodlines were excellent. They examined the animals’ noses, ears, mouths, eyes, hooves, and bodies; they found all parts healthy. The man related his prices, then left the couple to speak privately and to take a final look at his superior stock.

  When Turly rejoined them at the pens, Jessie said, “I’ll take two of the Durhams and two of the Herefords.” She pointed out which ones she wanted. “We’ve worked with Durhams, Booths, and Galloways before, but I hear others are having great luck with the Herefords. They’re a finelooking critter.”

  “Wise choices, Miss Lane. Some of the best breeding is being done between Herefords and longhorns. The meat is top grade and brings in a higher dollar.”

  Jessie eyed the white-faces, short horns, and red hide of the breed. “I believe you said the Durhams were two thousand each and the Herefords one each. That’s six thousand dollars. Is it all right to send it with my men when they come for the bulls? I didn’t want to travel on the stage with so much cash.”

  “The Herefords are younger; they’ll need another year to fully mature for breeding. We have a deal. We’ll sign the papers today. I trust you, Miss Lane. I’ve dealt with Jed many times. I’m sure sorry to hear he’s gone. From the way he always bragged on his Jess, I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Turly. Papa taught me a lot, and I have Matt to help me remember it all and do things right. I’ll send the boys over as soon as I return home. They should arrive during the first week of the month.”

  Jessie and Matt spent two nights at the Uvalde and Devils River stations again. On the last day of their journey toward Fort Stockton, tired and sleepy, she dozed, her head falling against the foreman’s shoulder.

  Careful not to awaken her, Matt shifted toward the slumbering woman, slipped his right arm around her shoulder, and eased her head against his chest and neck. It felt good when Jessie snuggled closer to him and her temple nestled near his collarbone. Her left arm was between them and her hand lay on his right thigh. As she slept deeper, the redhead’s right hand and arm moved across his lap and remained on his thigh. Her unbound tresses teased over Matt’s hand and arm and against his chin. Jessie’s familiar cologne wafted into his nose, and her body was warm next to his. As the stage jostled them, her left breast rubbed against his rib cage and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

  Although the coach held six people and he was in the back left corner, Matt soon felt as if he and Jessie were alone somewhere, especially with his head leaning against the wood and with his eyes closed. His dreamy mind shut out all the surrounding sounds except her soft breathing. He felt the heat of her breath against his chest. He let his thirsting senses absorb the many sensations of Jessie. It was wonderful having her in his arms. He had longed for this moment for years, always loving her from a distance. But he had been afraid to approach her, unable to risk another tormenting rejection like the one that had driven him west at eighteen. He also hadn’t wanted to back Jessie into a corner with an unwanted overture. Maybe it was time to take that risk. He yearned to kiss her. He could think of nothing more fulfilling than making love to her. He was in paradise, and he hoped the journey and her slumber would continue a long time.

  The longer it lasted, the more Mathew Cordell was tantalized and enflamed. Sweat beaded on his face and dampened his entire body. He was as hot as a poker left in a roaring fire. His hands itched to stroke her silky hair and body, and it was a struggle to control those impulses. He wanted her so much, but feared how she would respond to his pursuit. Jessie was a unique woman: smart, honest, dependable, giving, and plenty of fun. When she smiled or laughed, tingles ran over him. It felt good just to be around her. He loved watching her do anything; she always enjoyed herself and did her best. He had seen her happy and sad, losing and winning, a playful tomboy and a ravishing woman, courageous and scared, gentle and tough.

  As the yells from the jehu—driver—jingling harnesses, creaking coach, and pounding hooves stirred her foggy mind, Jessie found herself cuddled in Matt’s arms. She was so drowsy and relaxed that she didn’t care what the passengers thought of her behavior. It felt good to be held in strong, loving arms. That thought jarred her sluggish mind to reality. She straightened herself and squirmed to loosen her stiff body. She glanced at Matt, grinned, and said in close to a whisper, as others were sleeping, “You make a good pillow. Sorry if I squashed you. I didn’t realize I was so exhausted. I’ll be glad to get home. How much farther?”

  Matt removed his arm from her shoulder and flexed as much as the coach space allowed. “About two hours. Our last stop is coming up soon. When we get home, you should take it easy for a while. You’re been working too hard.” “There’s so much to do, Matt.”

  “You have plenty of hands for chores and plenty of time until roundup.”

  “I hope everything is all right at home.”

  He smiled and coaxed, “Don’t worry; I’m sure it is.”

  Jessie was eager to get there. She hoped Navarro had changed his mind and returned. If not, perhaps there was a letter from him. Of course, she wouldn’t get it until the end of the month when the man brought their mail during his semimonthly delivery. She doubted if one would come this soon from her sister. Yet, she wondered how both were and where they were.

  Jessie and Matt reached the Box L spread before dark on Monday. The ride by horseback across terrain that was partly desert had been long and tiring. When they dismounted, jovial hands came to greet them and question their mission. Gran and Tom hurried to join the merry group.

  Jessie told them about the deal with Turly. “I want Jimmy Joe, Jefferso
n, and Walt to go after them. You two are skilled with stubborn beasts, and Jimmy Joe will make a good guard for the bulls and money. I’ll send it with you boys. It’s six thousand dollars, so be careful with it.”

  “Guard it with our hides and souls, Jessie,” the grinning towhead replied.

  “That’s why I chose you,” she teased in return. “Everything all right?”

  “Couldn’t much be better, Jessie. No problems. Those boys on the Bar F are doin’ fine. We’ll haveta get used to peace ag’in.”

  “I just wish Papa were here to enjoy it with us.”

  “We does, too, Miss Jessie. We gots dem mills oiled an’ spinnin’ good.”

  “Thanks, Big John. If you boys will excuse me, I’m falling in my tracks. Thanks, all of you. As soon as the fall sale is over, you’ll all get a five-dollar raise.”

  In the house, Jessie hugged her Grandmother and scolded her brother in a soft tone, “You shouldn’t be up and about yet, Tom. I want that shoulder healed perfect before you go to pulling at it.”

  “I ain’t no baby, Jessie. It’s about well. I can help out now.”

  “Not yet, young man. It’s only been three weeks, and it was a bad wound.”

  “Aw, Jessie, let me outta the house. I ain’t no chicken to be cooped up.”

  “No, you’re a brave young man. I won’t scold you for being rash, because what you did that day took courage and wits. You and Gran probably scared those men off before they could ruin the entire garden. I’m proud of you, Tom.”.

  “You are, Jessie?”

  “You know I am. You’re going to be a big help to me. We’ll have to work hard to make this spread one of the best. You’re old enough to start doing other things, but you have some learning to do first. Matt’s going to help you. Is that all right, Thomas Lane?”

  “More than all right, Jessie. I can be like a regular hand, can’t I?”

 

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