by Keta Diablo
I'm here, Jezebel.
"Cain? Oh, Cain, you're here. Please help me. I don't want to die."
You must fight, darling. Think of Grange and what will become of him if you leave.
"So tired...so tired and in so much pain." She licked her dry lips. "I can't see the light now. It grows fainter...fainter."
Jezebel! I'm here! Look at me now. Over here my beloved, look into my eyes.
"Your mother beckons, her open arms and cheery smile beseeching me to join her."
Look away, Jezebel. Do not walk toward her. Focus on me; it's not your time.
She turned her head toward the voice and gazed upon her husband's shimmering form. For the first time since he'd died, she saw him again. Seated in a rocking chair, he was dressed in his burial clothes, the dark waistcoat and crisp white shirt she'd selected for him. She thought about the favorite Stetson Grange had placed on his stowed-in head before they closed the coffin, but there was no sign of injury now. He looked now like he always had, before the accident, before life played one of its cruel jokes and ripped him from their midst.
"You came back to us?"
Oh, darling, Jezebel, if only I could. He shook his head. I'm here to tell you to fight; you must not surrender to the blackness. Help is coming.
"Help is coming...help is coming, that's what you said before. And that help shot me!"
You're wrong. Coy tried to save you.
"It hurts, Cain. The fires of Hell surround me. So hot, so damn hot."
The light waits and so much more, Jezebel. Open your eyes and swim toward it. Do you hear me? Swim toward it...swim toward it....
* * *
The sun creeping over the Vulture Mountains couldn't have come earlier for Grange and Coy. Throughout the night, they'd checked on Jesse's condition and then looked at Kajame for the slightest inkling of hope or despair. The Indian's face remained stoic and at times, he wouldn't look at them. Coy took that to mean things couldn't have been more grave for the woman.
Grange had drifted off throughout the long wait, grabbing a few winks here and there by resting his arms and head on the table. Coy couldn't sleep and spent the entire night alternating between praying and cursing. He relived the snakebite incident a thousand times in his mind and came to the conclusion he couldn't have done anything in that infinitesimal amount of time to alter the conclusion. He had killed the viper, but not before it buried its venomous fangs into her upper arm. A freak accident, that's what it was, and given the same series of steps, could have just as well had a different outcome.
He'd never forget the look on her face before the gun exploded in his hand...sheer, dark terror. Reliving it all now, he knew she thought he meant to shoot her. That brought him immense sadness. And regret he hadn't been man enough to tell her his true feelings. He'd fallen in love with her in the short time he'd been at the ranch, but even he couldn't grasp the concept or come to terms with the depth of his love.
The red men he'd met throughout his life—scampering through the same mountains Grange now traversed—always said nothing is planned by man but by the gods, whatever god they believed in. Man doesn't decide his fate but the world does. The great cycle of life man journeys from birth to death isn't mapped or charted but left to the whim and fancy of whatever resides above the clouds.
Coy always believed man can and does make choices, steers his own destiny, but now, he doubted his simplistic view of right from wrong, light from dark. Making choices about life over death was never in his hands to begin with.
He thought about the events that had occurred that brought him to love Jesse. He had to be gone from the ranch for years and he had to end up in prison before he came to terms with the life he led after he left it. He had to come to the realization that family really did mean something to him, to all men, in the end. Thus, the reason he longed to see his ma and pa, and brother, before he could begin a new life.
That brought him to Jesse's doorstep. And to the events that made her a widow. Cain had to die before he could fall in love with Jesse. No...that wasn't true. Once he met her, experienced her raw grit, her steel determination and every nuance, every smile that made her a woman, made her Jesse, he would have fallen in love with her, married to his brother or not. But he wouldn't have allowed himself to think about that. Like he was now, every second throughout the night while she courted death.
It didn't seem possible she could die after all that. Even the gods wouldn't be that perverse. He repeated that scenario like a mantra in his mind, ever minute, every hour throughout the night.
Kajame stood under the doorway of the bedroom, his expression still guarded but not as fierce. Grange and Coy came to their feet at the same time and rushed into the room. Coy heard her son's sigh of relief at the same time Grange must have heard his.
They looked down on her. Her eyes were open, and although her skin tone bordered on gray, the stark white tinge had receded. Sweat no longer beaded her forehead and the restlessness that had caused her body to twitch and spasm had also surrendered.
Grange looked at Kajame. "She's going to make it now. You saved her, friend."
The old man shook his head. "Man does not decide such matters." He pointed to the ceiling. "The Great One does."
Coy chimed in. "The worst has passed?"
Kajame nodded. "Woman have big battle in her mind—stay or go, live or die." His eyes chased the dusky corners of the room. "Ghost leave when she decide to live."
Both Coy and Grange searched the room and then exchanged glances. The air had changed, so subtly it was hard to define. After he'd seen Kajame work his magic, bring Jesse back from the brink of death, who was he to question a ghost's presence in the room?
Grange took his mother's hand. "Welcome back, Ma."
"Hello son. How long have I been out?"
"All night." Grange looked to Coy and back to her. "Coy shot the snake but the slimy bastard—"
"Grange. . . ."
"Sorry, Ma. I mean the slithering sand devil must have dug his fangs in with his last breath."
Lifting her head was out of the question, but she managed to turn it to the other side of the bed. "Thank you."
Coy nodded. "My pleasure."
A smile creased the corner of her lips. "What happened to Coyote?"
"Coyote...oh, you mean the trickster?"
She offered a feeble nod. "I remember the story, all except the ending."
Coy laughed. "He ate the mesquite beans and his belly swelled up."
"He died?"
"Yep, not very often Coyote gets tricked by his elders." He sank onto the bed. "I didn't know if you could hear me or not. I did my best to keep you hanging on to something, anything. I wanted you to know we were still here and expected you to come back to us."
"It worked." She focused on Kajame. "At times, I could hear you. Other times, I heard...."
"Ghost not here now."
"I know. Thank you. Will he return, do you think?"
The red man shrugged. "When reason to stay gone, he gone."
"Look," Coy said. "You need rest. The best thing we can do for you now is let you get some."
Grange squeezed her hand. "If you need anything, call out. One of us will be close by until you're strong enough to get out of bed."
Her eyes drooped. "I am tired."
Kajame, Coy and Grange left the room to the sound of her shallow, rhythmic breaths.
Chapter Ten
Jesse rebounded with the same strength and resilience she possessed before her encounter with the diamondback. There was proof of that undeniable fact two weeks later when Coy tacked and saddled his horse near the barn and looked at her standing on the porch.
He'd always remember how fresh she looked, how much she reminded him of a field of wildflowers drenched in morning sunlight. A wide-brimmed, brown hat sat at a saucy angle on her head, the chin strap falling to the cleft between her breasts. Her white blouse with lace sleeves was open at the neck and tucked into a long, pale yellow sk
irt. A black belt with intricate Mexican motifs accentuated her small waist. Although she'd lost weight from her illness, she had retained her womanly curves. Even her face appeared thinner but didn't diminish her beauty, the delicate features, high cheekbones and porcelain skin. Jesse embodied every letter in the word beautiful.
He mounted, rode through the yard and stopped Deuce near the steps. "I should be back in a few hours. Sure you're going to be all right?" He caught the mangy mutt out of the corner of his eye. Lounging on the porch, the dog looked at him without lifting his head.
She gave him a dismissive wave. "Grange went to visit Kajame but should return soon. You won't forget to stop by the mercantile to pick up the flour and sugar while you're in town?"
He couldn't suppress the smile. "I tied a string around my finger." He'd already asked about the cattle this morning, but wanted a reason to linger, drink in her beauty and sear the memory into his brain. "You told Grange if any of the cattle went missing, he should wait until I return to deal with it, right? And by the way, why didn't Fetch go with him?"
She sighed and looked toward the mountains. "I wondered the same thing. Maybe Fetch isn't feeling well. And I did tell Grange not to check on the cattle this morning but you know him. Sometimes he pretends not to hear me when I speak. Strange, isn't it, especially when English was my best subject in school?"
"I'll keep an eye out on my way to town," Coy replied with a chuckle. "If I see him, I'll give him a gentle reminder."
"His hearing miraculously improves when you speak to him."
"Typical for a kid his age. Can't say I was any different." He removed his hat and slapped it against his thigh. Dust motes floated through the air between them. "Think I'll pay Niall a visit too. Tell him the Torres brothers were hosting some of your cattle in their corral last month."
"Your cattle too," she said with a broad smile.
"Yeah, guess they are at that."
"Think you'll ever think of them as yours?" She surveyed the land and spread her arms out. "Or realize the ranch is as much yours as mine?"
"That's not why I'm staying, you know."
"Really? I forgot the reason you changed you mind. Maybe you'd like to refresh my memory."
He felt a smirk split his lips. "I think I'd rather tell you again when you're in my arms, not standing ten feet away and acting all sassy and aloof."
"Nothing says you have to go to town today."
"Is that an invitation to stay home?"
She gave him a throaty laugh. "Guess it is. You taking me up on it?"
He plopped the hat back onto his head, tipped it in her direction, turned Deuce toward the long drive, and looked back over his shoulder. "That new rifle is waiting for me at Porter's, but I'll take you up on that invitation tonight."
She stood with hands on her hips, her face lit up by a wide smile as he rode off.
Fetch followed him when he left the yard...and kept on following him for a mile. Three times he tried to shoo him home, only to have him disappear for a spell and reappear behind Deuce again.
Coy turned in the saddle. "I told you to go home, and I'm not telling you again. Now, shoo!"
Thirty minutes later, he rode down Main Street and dismounted in front of the mercantile. After paying for his new rifle, a sack of flour and a sack of sugar, he stuffed the rifle into the scabbard near his saddlebag and flung the sacks over Deuce's back. The ribbons he purchased for Jesse went into the pocket of his vest. Every woman deserved to be surprised now and then, especially one as loving and kind as the woman he couldn't stop thinking about.
He walked Deuce down the street to the Sheriff's Office and on his way caught Benito, Domingo and their sidekicks out of the corner of his eye. Coming out of the Blue Mesa saloon on wobbly legs, they stopped in their tracks and shot him a collection of lethal glares. At least he knew they weren't out stealing Santos cattle this morning, and by their disheveled appearances and stumbling walks wouldn't be any time soon. He felt four sets of eyes on his back as he walked into Niall's office but when he came out thirty minutes later, they were nowhere in sight.
The sheriff filed a report and assured Coy he'd pay a visit to the Torres ranch the following day, along with a stern warning that if anymore Santos cattle were found on their property, he'd personally arrest them for cattle rustling.
Coy didn't doubt Niall's word, but didn't think a tongue-lashing from the town sheriff would sway them from their thieving ways. He didn't want a confrontation, swore he'd never do anything to put himself back in Yuma, and yet he couldn't stand by like a coward while they stole his property. Jesse's words floated through his mind, 'Your cattle too.' He smiled about that while he rode from town and headed down the road leading to the ranch, the road that led to Jesse and Grange.
Deuce reared up in his hind legs when the first shot rang out. Struggling to keep the horse under control and pull his rifle from the saddle holster, Coy didn't hear the second shot. But he felt the agony of the bullet entering his back below his right shoulder blade. The force knocked him from the saddle and sent him tumbling into the dirt face first. The ground spun beneath him, the muffled voices getting closer and closer coming to him through a tunnel. Through the blinding pain, he watched Deuce gallop off as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.
Horses stomped the ground near him and then Benito's words rang in his ears. "Is he dead, Digger?"
Someone kicked him in the ribs and it took all his resolve not to react. "If not, damn close to it."
Domingo's voice. "Finish him off, give him another one."
"No! No one can take a shot like that and live to tell about it." Benito's high-pitched words echoed across the windswept terrain. "That snot-nosed kid might be close by, hear it and come running."
"Benito is right. He'll bleed out soon enough. Let's get outta here."
"We goin' to pay a visit to that good-looking woman and her boy now?"
"No, Mutton Chop. We got us some Santos cattle to 'round up first."
"If not today, when, Domingo?"
"My brother, you are as impatient as them. We wait until dusk. Harder for them to see us against the setting sun when we ride in. Besides, after expecting the amigo to finally return, they will not be expecting us." Pain rippled through Coy's body when someone kicked him in the lower back. "Soon the Santos ranch will be up for sale and I will be the new owner."
"Tonight can't come soon enough. I been thinking 'bout stealing a kiss from that woman for months. With him out of the way, I can steal all the kisses I want."
Domingo shouted, "You're not touching her, ya hear!? We're going to take care of the boy and the widow the same way we took care of him. And then we'll bury them where no one can find 'em. Do I make myself clear, Mutton Head?"
"I told you not to call me that, asshole."
"Yeah...well, when you're man enough to stop me, I might listen."
Mutton Chop mumbled a curse and then the sound of horses' hooves hitting the hard-packed dirt reached him, fading with every passing second.
Coy knew if he didn't bleed out, he'd die on this godforsaken ground from dehydration. The sun rode at its zenith, baking every bone in his body, and if that didn't kill him, crawling through the desert would.
Drifting in and out, he didn't know how long he lay there, but based on the position of the sun several hours had passed. The bullet seemed to pass clear through, and although he'd lost a lot of blood, he sensed it had stopped covering the earth some time ago.
Deuce hadn't returned, which told him the horse was so spooked he either kept on running for miles or returned to the ranch without him. He prayed for the latter. If he could just hang on, Grange and Jesse would retrace his steps to town and find him soon.
Terror seized his throat. Jesse and Grange...what if the Torres brothers had high-tailed it to the ranch after committing their cowardly act? What if right now they were terrorizing them...or worse had shot them too?
He fought against the darkness closing in on him b
ut the pain and loss of blood won in the end. Jesse's face flashed behind his eyelids before he entered the black void again.
He awoke to a rough tongue licking his face. Forcing one eye open, he stared into Fetch's face. The reins dangled in the dirt near his hand and when he lifted his head, Deuce tossed his head to the side and pawed at the earth. "Good boy, Fetch, you found my horse." He prayed Grange was close by but struggled to lift his head. He'd need every ounce of strength he possessed to climb into that saddle. His gaze flickered back to the dog. "You knew, didn't you? That's why you didn't go with Grange, why you followed me this morning. Stupid dog."
Fetch cocked his head to the side and studied Coy while he clutched the reins in one hand and crab-crawled through the dirt to his horse. "Down, boy," he said to Deuce and had to repeat the words several times before the stallion kneeled.
Fetch emitted a raucous bark when he inched his way up the saddle. After dropping the reins to the dog, he wrapped his hands around the saddle horn and leaned into the horse's mane. "Home, Fetch, take us home."
The dog took the reins in his mouth and took a last glance at Coy as Deuce clambered to his feet. Then the hound sprinted toward the ranch, pulling horse and man behind him like a wagon. Agony pedaled through every vein in his body, and by the time he saw the roof of the ranch, his shirt was soaked in bright crimson, torso to waist.
Fetch let loose a string of angry barks. Grange sprinted toward him from the barn, Jesse from the porch. Her eyes wide, she clamped a hand over her mouth with one hand, and held her skirt off the ground with the other as she ran.
"Dear God, what happened!?"
Those were the last words he heard before he fell from Deuce for the second time that day.
Chapter Eleven
"There's an old door in the bunkhouse, Grange. Get it, and fast."
"A door? What are we gonna do with that?"
Jesse bit her bottom lip. "Roll him onto it, tie it to the saddle horn and have Deuce pull him into the house."
Her son looked at her as if she'd lost her mind or perhaps went into shock after seeing so much blood. "Ma, you're not thinking right. Deuce won't fit in the house."