Follow The Wind

by Janelle Taylor

  “Rusty will be a good foreman. The boys like him and respect him. They won’t have trouble taking orders from him.”

  “He was a good choice. Now let’s get you settled before supper.”

  For the next few days, Jessica Lane Cordell continued to take things slowly. She remained at rest each morning until her misery passed, then helped her grandmother with housework or Tom with his book lessons. In a way, the redhead was enjoying her new womanly role. She could relax about her pregnancy with Matt to safeguard her and the child from scandal and heartache. Matt treated her with such tenderness and affection. She liked being made to feel special. She liked feeling feminine. The more she was with Matt, the more she adored him.

  As he continued to court her with loving kisses and embraces, she had to admit she found his romantic attentions pleasurable. It was soothing to be held in his strong, cherishing arms. She had prayed that losing Navarro wouldn’t embitter her to the point she couldn’t feel passion and love for another man. She wanted her husband to stir the desires that Navarro had first awakened. She recalled how it felt to share herself with her lost love. She confessed that she wanted to experience those same passions and emotions again. Perhaps sex would be the final link in the chain to bind her and Matt together as they should be. Lovemaking had bonded her and Navarro, had proven and strengthened their trust. Yet, while she carried another man’s child, she could not unite her body with Matt’s. But she could work on giving herself to him emotionally until the time was right.

  Late Friday, Jessie and Matt were standing on the porch watching a lovely sunset. He was behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, hers clasped over them. She was leaning against his hard body with her head resting against the broad width of his chest.

  “It’s mighty hot and dry. Makes the men and stock restless,” he said.

  “But it’s beautiful and peaceful,” she remarked, gazing at the colorful horizon to the west. “Everything’s settled down, Matt.”

  He bent his head downward to brush a kiss on her cheek. Jessie turned and nestled in his arms, her hands spread across his back. She listened to his heartbeat as her nearness increased its pace. His arms tightened, and he pressed his lips to her silky hair. She wondered which was better, to show her affection or to withhold it to keep from tantalizing him.

  “Matt, does it make it harder on you when I get close? Should I stop?”

  “I’m glad you can talk to me about anything, Jessie, and yep, it’s hard being near you and not…You know what I mean. But it makes me happy to hold you, to have any part of you. Lean my way as much as you can,” he coaxed.

  Jessie pushed back enough to look into his brown eyes. “You’re a very handsome man, Mathew Cordell. I’m lucky no girl lassoed you before I could. I do want you, but I have to wait until there isn’t anyone between us.”

  “Navarro’s ghost?” he asked.

  “No, the baby. After it’s born, I will become your wife in that way, too.”

  Matt’s hands cupped her face, and he stared into her sincere gaze. He craved her so much, but her admission gave him the strength to wait for her. He understood and honored her feelings, her dilemma, her sense of duty to all of them. “I love you, Jessie. Much as I need you, our future is all that’s important to me.” His mouth covered hers with a soul-searing tenderness and power that stole her breath.

  At the corral, Miguel nudged Carlos and remarked, “We were wrong, amigo. She could not love Navarro and surrender so sweetly to Matt. It is good. They have been close for many years. Si, it is a good match.”

  “Where is the law that says a beautiful señorita cannot love more than one hombre? I think she turned to him from loneliness and fear. But, chica is an honorable woman; she would never hurt or betray our boss. I wonder if Navarro will ever return. What will he do when he sees he has lost her?”

  “What can he do, Carlos? It is done.”

  Jessie awoke before midnight. She was restless and edgy. She didn’t know what was wrong, but something more oppressive than the heat weighed upon her.

  “What’s wrong, love?” Matt asked from the darkness.

  “I don’t know. I can’t sleep. I think I’ll sit and read a while.”

  “It’s just the weather and your condition. How about warm milk and a rub?”

  “That isn’t it, Matt. I have that dark mood again.”

  “Why don’t I sit up with you? We can—”

  A rumble in the distance caught their attention through the open windows. Both pairs of eyes darted in that direction. The noise came again, closer, louder.

  “A storm’s brewing. Maybe that’s it,” he suggested.

  Jessie got out of bed, walked to the window, and looked outside. She saw lightning not far away and heard the rolling sound once more—deep, heavy, continuous until muffled by its retreat. Matt’s arms encircled her body. She remained tense and stiff, staring at the ominous horizon.

  Matt’s gaze followed hers. From the look of it, they were in for a bad one. “I best go alert the boys. Don’t want the stock spooked into a run.”

  The sky was dark and threatening. Thundercracks rent the hot air and roared off in all directions like angry beasts on the prowl. Lightning flashed, and branched into several limbs as it reached down from above to finger the land with its power. The house vibrated as the booming noises increased in volume and proximity. Shadows were dispelled for a time by flickers of brightness. Lightning attacked the terrain as rapidly as the peals of thunder shouted into the night. An eerie wind picked up and blew over the dry landscape, shaking anything in its aimless path.

  “Don’t go tonight, Matt. I want you with me. I’m…scared.”

  “You’ve never been afraid of storms, Jessie, but I’m here. Just let me get the boys to work, then I’ll return.” He hugged her, snatched on his clothes, and left.

  Jessie kept her gaze on the sky. This was not a normal thunderstorm. Its strength was awesome; its warning was lethal. She trembled as lightning danced wildly in the sky, then sent forked tongues to lick at the earth. No Indian war drum could sound as intimidating as the claps of thunder over the house. She knew it was dangerous for any man or animal out tonight.

  Jessie jumped and shrieked as she heard what sounded like an explosion nearby, bamming and echoing. The next siege began as soon as it was silent. The house seemed to sense danger and to shudder in panic. The windows rattled, their panes tinkling and their frames creaking in an odd way. Two loud bangs were discharged by a luminous thunderbolt that separated into several offshoots and struck the earth. Jessie jerked and screamed. She wished Matt would return. She was terrified, and she didn’t know why.

  The thunder and lightning were at full fury, foreshadowing a torrential rain. She wished moisture would pour down to cool the heat of the weather’s rage. An ear-splitting blast charged through the house, causing it to tremble with alarm. Jessie knew it had been struck by lightning. She smelled smoke: fire!

  Jessie rushed into the parlor, glanced about, and hurried toward the kitchen. Before she reached it, she saw the brilliance of flames from the back porch out the windows. Crackles said the hungry fire was spreading fast as it chewed at dry wood. In horror, she watched red devils jump from spot to spot to set them ablaze. The thirsting condition of the wood caused it to ignite and burn rapidly.

  “Tom! Gran! Get out fast! The house is afire!”

  Tom responded he was coming. Gran yelled she was yanking on clothes.

  Jessie knew Matt was in the bunkhouse giving orders and didn’t realize their peril, as the continuous claps and rolls were too noisy. She seized a bucket and pumped water as fast as she could, but it filled slowly from the lowered supply. She tossed the liquid at the blazing windows, then repeated her action. She realized it was futile, with the fire swift and the water sluggish. She saw ravenous flames licking or gnawing at the porch, bathing closet, and the roof. She knew it was already in the attic. “Tom! Can you hear me?” When he responded he was coming soon, she ordered,
“Leave those things! Get down here! Now!”

  Jessie reached the short hallway to her grandmother’s bedroom. A surge of flames and blast of hot air swept from her old room and cut the redhead off from her target, forcing her backward a few steps. She held up her hands before her smarting face. Weakening beams overhead creaked and threatened to come crashing down before much longer. Tom moved slowly on his disabled leg. The kitchen was under attack, and his escape would be cut off soon. Frantic, she shouted above the noise of the fire and storm, “Gran! Keep your door closed! Fire in the hall! Get out the front window! Fast, Gran! I have to get to Tom before he’s trapped!” Jessie did not get a response. She glanced toward the burning kitchen where Tom soon wouldn’t be able to pass, then at the obstructed hall to her grandmother’s silent room. In a split second, horrible thoughts raced through her mind. If she rushed outside to break the glass to rescue Gran, she could never reach her brother in time. If she went after Tom, they might be trapped upstairs and Gran in her room. Her baby. …All of the Lanes could perish tonight inside this raging oven…Where was Matt? God, help us! She had to act, now.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Matt rushed into the house calling for Jessie. He hurried to her side and ordered, “Get to the barn where it’s safe. I’ll go for Tom. The boys are getting Gran out the front window. They’re hauling water, but it looks bad. Too high to fight. Move, woman!” he shouted to spur her into motion.

  Jessie didn’t obey. She saw her husband run toward the kitchen, but returned to her room to save some of their possessions. She threw clothes on the spread, tied the corners, and tossed the bundle out the window. She threw more belongings and the ranch books onto the sheet and did the same with it. She jerked open drawers, scooped up items, and crammed them into emptied pillowcases. Out the window they went. She heard shouts as men passed orders and buckets. She smelled smoke and saw it wafting into her room like thick mist stirred by a brisk wind. Crackles and pops entered her ears. A crash told her the back porch was collapsing.

  Matt hurried into their bedroom with an axe he had fetched. “Can’t get through the kitchen! I’ll have to chop through the wall to get to the attic steps. Get out, Jessie, before the ceilings fall.” Matt slammed the tool with all his strength against the wall into the dining area. Wood splintered and flew in several directions. He worked quickly and desperately, knowing time was against him.

  Jessie was panicked. The only way to her brother’s room was by the steps in the far corner of the eating area. The sole window overlooked the back of the house where the blaze was raging at its worst, making a rescue ladder impossible. She couldn’t leave until she saw Tom’s face and knew he was safe. She prayed as Matt swung the axe and broke into the partition. When the hole was large enough for him to slip through, he vanished into the smoky room of flames, holding a soaked blanket over his head.

  Jessie heard his boots clattering on the wooden steps. She heard the dog barking in fear. She heard her brother’s voice. Her heart pounded and she clenched her hands. Soon two coughing males appeared, and she cried in relief.

  “Let’s go!” Matt carried Tom to the front window and outside.

  Clem’s frantic barks caught her attention. Jessie rushed to the hole calling to him, and the dog ran to her. She helped him through the opening which was too high for him to leap over to safety, then carried him to the window and leaned over to place him on the porch. Clem took off toward the yard. As Jessie bent to crawl out, the window gave way and struck her head. Everything went black.

  Gusts of wind whipped the flames into a wild frenzy. It swirled dry dirt and smoke into everyone’s eyes. “No use, boys!” Matt shouted. “Pull back!” The men stopped fighting the determined fire and rushed to collect the family’s possessions that had been tossed out the windows. Bundles were carried to safety in the barn.

  “Where is Jessie?” Gran shouted.

  Flames leapt into the dark sky over their home and brightened the wanton area. Smoke billowed. Walls and sections of roof gave way. Over the thunderclaps, voices, wind, barks, and pops of burning wood, Matt heard Gran and looked around for his wife. He saw Jessie’s head in the bedroom window. He ran to the porch, jumped onto it, and shoved the sash upward. He held it in place with his knee while he pulled Jessie into his arms, then carried her down the steps. A loud crash followed them and sent fiery coals and ashes into the air. One burned through Matt’s shirt and seared his flesh. He halted for Miguel to toss water on the area.

  Matt entered the barn and placed Jessie on a blanket on the hay. By lanternlight, he checked her head. The wound wasn’t bad, but it had rendered her unconscious. “She’ll be fine in a while, Gran,” he told the worried woman. “Watch her for me.”

  Matt left the barn. He watched helplessly as flames engulfed and destroyed it. He wished the rain would hurry. It was too late to save their home, but a downpour would protect other structures on the ranch from flying sparks. “Watch the other buildings. That wind is gusting embers all over.”

  “Sorry, Boss, but she’s riding high and bucking stubborn,” Rusty said.

  The men stared at the consuming blaze. Lightning flashed in all directions. Peals of thunder followed each display of powerful light. More walls and sections of roof rumbled to the floor. Heat reached them even at their distance. Rain started, slow at first; soon, it was drenching them fast.

  Jessie roused and sat up to find everyone observing the fire that was fighting for its life against ever-increasing rain. She saw bundles nearby. She stood, battled her dizziness, and walked to the doorway.

  Matt steadied her with an arm around her waist. Jessie leaned her head against his shoulder. She watched the storm rage into full force. Her home was gone, like her father and Navarro. “Damn,” she swore in distress. “I hate fires! This isn’t fair. It’s the third one we’ve had. That’s more than our share. Why didn’t He send the rain sooner to help us?”

  “Don’t get bitter, love. We still have more than most people do. We’ll bed down here in the barn tonight, then figure what to do come morning.”

  The hands rushed to the bunkhouse to get out of the storm and to change into dry garments. Matt coaxed his wife and Tom and Gran from the grim scene and closed the barn doors. “Let’s get dry and get some rest,” he suggested.

  Jessie looked at the four of them: filthy with soot, smelling of smoke, exhausted, and depressed. The soaked animal in Tom’s arms gave off its own doggy smell. “Why, Matt? Haven’t we been tested enough?”

  “Don’t, Jessie. Accidents happen. There was nothing we could do.”

  “He could have,” she remarked with anger, glancing upward.

  “We don’t question the good Lord’s ways, child,” Martha told her. “Not everything, good or bad, is His doing and bad things aren’t always His tests or punishments. Be thankful we’re all alive and safe.”

  Jessie lowered her aching head and replied, “You’re right, Gran. You, too, Matt. You saved my life and Tom’s. It’s just been such a long and hard fight to end this way.”

  “It isn’t over, love. You have Fletcher’s home. We can move there. Either we can stay there or we can rebuild here.”

  “That’s a crazy twist of fate: Fletcher came after our home and land, but we wound up with his. We’ll use his place until we decide what to do.”

  “Our place,” Gran corrected, then sent her an encouraging smile.

  Matt turned his back while the two women changed nightgowns. Then they did the same while he and Tom changed. He pulled bedrolls from the tackroom and spread them on piles of hay. “Let’s turn in,” he said.

  Jessie took the roll beside her husband and pulled protective cover over her shaking body. She saw Clem snuggle next to Tom’s warm body. Fatigued, she realized her grandmother and brother were soon asleep. Jessie curled closer to her husband’s side, needing his strength and comfort. He turned toward her and wrapped his arms around her. His hair and skin still smelled of smoke and his face was smudged. She wriggled closer to wh
isper, “I’m glad you’re here, Matt.”

  He looked over at her misty gaze and weary expression. “Me, too, Jessie.” His mouth closed over hers and kissed her deeply, soothingly.

  Jessie’s hand caressed his dirty cheek, and she returned the more-than-pleasant kiss. As one drifted into another, she rolled to her back and her husband lay half atop her. His mouth worked a stimulating path across her face before returning to her lips. Jessie warmed to his touch. She did not once think of Navarro Breed. She closed her eyes and dreamily realized how skilled Matt was with kisses and caresses, and she enjoyed them for a time.

  “I love you, Jessie,” Matt murmured in her ear. “I’ll always protect you.”

  She hugged him tightly and replied, “I love you, too, Matt.”

  As if knowing it was perilous to continue his amorous behavior, Matt halted it and cuddled her in his embrace. “Sleep, love.”

  Jessie was grateful for his caution. She knew now that she could respond to him when the right time came, but that was months away. Relaxed, despite the raging storm and devastating fire, she closed her eyes.

  Jessica Cordell stared at the wet, blackened ruins of her home. The storm had ceased at dawn, but the ground was muddy from it. She walked around the fallen house twice, and saw nothing more could be saved than the few bundles they had tossed outside last night. The rock foundation and chimneys stood firm in place amidst dark debris. Broken glass lay here and there from heat-shattered windows. The stench of destruction hung heavy in the cooled air. She took a deep breath to settle her edgy nerves. Maybe a move would be a new and challenging beginning for her marriage to Matt, away from the room where her father had been washed and wrapped for burial and where she had slept with Navarro during the last violent storm. All that was gone; it was time to look to the future.

  They had eaten earlier in the chuckhouse, and Gran was helping Biscuit Hank with the chores there. The other hands were out checking herds and fences to see how they had weathered the storm. Matt was hitching up a wagon to drive them to their new home a few hours away. When it was loaded, he joined her.