by Lyn Horner
“Be careful, Jessie!” he grated, squeezing her hand in warning. “You’re in no position to condemn others when you’ve been throwing yourself at every man in sight.”
“I’ve done no such thing!” she said in a furious whisper.
“Oh? And I suppose you weren’t rubbing yourself up against Virgil Haywood a while ago, either.”
So he had noticed. “Indeed I didn’t! It was –”
“Be quiet. I’m not interested in anything you have to say.” A muscle bunched along his jaw and he tightened his grip on her fingers again. He relaxed it instantly when she hissed in pain, but his expression remained as hard as granite.
They completed the dance in silence. Afterward, David danced with several other women, though not with Lil again, to Jessie’s surprise. Nevertheless, her anger continued to simmer, finally boiling over late in the evening. Most of the guests had departed by then. A few, the Crawfords among them, lingered in the courtyard, the men discussing the spring roundup, the women chatting among themselves. Lil was being ignored by both groups, Jessie noted smugly as she carried a platter of leftovers out to the cookhouse. She’d already sent Anna to bed, exhausted.
Stepping back outside moments later, she was just in time to see David usher Lil into the house. The nerve of him! How dare he drag her off with him in front of his father, not to mention Del and Jeb Crawford? Glancing at the men, she realized they were too busy talking to notice.
Temper raging, she followed the pair inside. She halted in the entrance to the parlor, where the two sat together on the sofa. David was turned toward Lil, holding her hand and speaking softly to her. Head bent, she nodded at something he said.
Sickened by the sight, Jessie balled her fists. “I suppose I should be thankful ye didn’t take her into our bed!” she snarled.
Lil uttered a startled cry and tore her hand from David’s as he turned to glare at Jessie. Face going red with fury, he shot to his feet and charged over to her. She met him with an answering blaze, locking her teeth when his hands clamped around her arms.
“Dammit, woman!” he snarled.
“Get your hands off me, ye lyin’ devil!”
Taking a whistling breath, he fought visibly for control. His voice shook. “Sometimes I wonder why I ever went near you that day in Omaha, Jessie.” At her gasp of pain, caused more by his words than his tight grip, he released her. Pivoting away, he went to snatch his carbine from above the fireplace, then paused to face Lil, who stood frozen by the sofa. “I’m sorry for this, for everything,” he told her. Then he strode from the room, not even looking at Jessie as he passed her.
“Don’t be walkin’ away from me!” she shrieked after him, but he ignored her as he slammed out of the house.
“You fool!” Lil cried hoarsely. “He must be loco to love you.”
Jessie whirled, longing to fly at the woman and tear out her hair. “How dare ye say that when ye know ’tis you he loves?”
“Idiot! He doesn’t love me! He wants us to be friends, he doesn’t want hard feelings between us. That’s all I’ve heard all night – when he wasn’t going on about you! God, I only wish he did love me. But he doesn’t. H-he never did.” Pressing a hand to her lips, Lil turned away. Her shoulders shook as she cried silently.
Jessie stared at her in shock, feeling the room sway around her. Oh God, what had she done? Choking on a sob, she ran from the room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Should have laid her across my knee and paddled her backside! Would have if not for . . . ” David muttered as he headed for the barn. Once there, he tore off his coat, vest and tie and dragged on his buckskin jacket. Jessie had ordered him to get it out of the house earlier, saying it stank of horse and sweat and she wouldn’t have it around with company coming. He didn’t think it smelled that bad, but she’d been in a dither over the party, so he’d let her have her way.
He wished for his gun belt. He felt half naked without his .44, but he’d left the rig in their bedroom, and he wasn’t about to go after it now. At least he’d had enough sense to grab his carbine. A man didn’t go riding around this country unarmed, especially at night.
Saddling the chestnut gelding he usually rode, he got the unpleasant feeling that he was running away. But he needed to put distance between himself and Jessie until he cooled off, and he hoped she’d settle down in the meantime. So he mounted up and sent the horse galloping into the night.
He turned back about an hour later. By then he had reached a couple of decisions. First, he’d had enough of Jessie’s fits of jealousy and meant to put a permanent end to them. Second, it was high time he stopped being afraid of his feelings for her, time for honesty between them. Even if his darling wife was sound asleep, he meant to wake her and have things out with her.
* * *
Jessie had cried until she made herself sick. After spewing up the meager contents of her stomach and rinsing out her mouth, she walked listlessly to her dressing table and pulled the silk rose with its froth of gay ribbons from her hair. It took several minutes to remove the dozens of pins that held her intricate coiffure in place. Finished at last, she brushed out her fallen curls, gazing at her tear-ravaged face in the mirror. For at least the hundredth time, she damned herself for not trusting David.
She set aside her brush and reached to unclasp the pearl necklace at her throat but stopped when she recalled David’s lusty desire to see her wearing nothing but the pearls. Her lips trembled. Would he ever care to see her that way now? After her unforgivable behavior tonight, after what Lil Crawford had told her, she wouldn’t blame him if he hated her.
Nevertheless, she left the necklace in place.
Not up to struggling with the many hooks that ran down the back of her gown just yet, she crossed to the wash stand and poured water into the basin. Bending over, she splashed the cool water over her face several times, wondering where David was – and if he would return. Then she just stood there, staring dejectedly into the water.
She hadn’t meant to seek a vision, but now a desperate thought occurred to her. If she were to reach out for David with her second sight, might he sense her touch and come home to her? She had no idea if such a thing was possible, but she made up her mind to try. Bracing herself on the washstand, she gazed intently into the glittering water, blocking out her surroundings. Her breathing slowed and she gradually lost touch with her body as the power buried deep within her awoke.
The water turned hazy, then brightened suddenly as flames leapt within its depths. Out of the fire appeared, not David’s eyes, but those evil red-orange orbs Jessie had tried for months to forget. Set in a shadowed face, they glared at her with insane hatred.
She gasped, wanting to turn and run, but she couldn’t break free from the demon. His maniacal laugh echoed in her head; she felt his presence like a hot breath on her neck. The clawed black hand she remembered from that foggy night in Chicago reached out for her again.
Terror finally broke the spell he’d cast upon her. She shrieked and stumbled backward. Whirling to flee, she nearly collided with David as he rushed toward her. She shrieked again in the split second it took her to recognize him. Then, with a cry of profound relief, she collapsed against him.
“Easy!” he said sharply, enclosing her in his arms.
“David! Buíochas le Dia!” She pressed her face to his chest and clutched him tight. “Thank God!” she repeated in shaky English.
One big hand cupped her head while the other stroked her back. “Jessie, what happened? Why were you staring into the wash basin like that, and what frightened you?”
She wondered how long he’d stood watching her but was too unnerved to ask. Shaking in reaction to her horrible vision, she could barely speak. “Th-the eyes! I s-s-saw them . . . again.”
Alarmed, David set aside his intention to have matters out with her. “Eyes? You mean at the window?” He tried to pull away, to look out onto the darkened courtyard.
“No!” She clutched his jacket, refusing
to let him go. “Not that. A vision. Of the d-d-demon. Like b-before.”
His skin prickled. He’d tried to forget about her gift, not wanting to believe it real. “You’ve had this . . . vision before?”
She nodded against his chest. “Last April. The s-s-same night I had one of y-you.”
“Me!” Shock waves rippled down his spine. “You saw me before we met?”
“Aye. ’Tis wh-why I came west. That and . . . and the dreams.”
His mouth went dry and his heart hammered against his ribs. He needed to sit down. Without a word, he led Jessie over to the bed and pulled her down beside him. She blinked up at him. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he caught hold of her hands. They were ice-cold. “You’re telling me you came west looking for me?” he asked gruffly.
Her trembling had begun to subside. Gnawing her bottom lip, she hesitated briefly, then said, “Aye, the voice told me to.”
Irritation replaced his shock. “Jessie, no more riddles. Start from the beginning and tell me all of it. Please.”
She smiled unevenly. “Well, first there were the nightmares after the fire. You know about them.”
He nodded.
“I’d see my skirts ablaze and me screaming like that poor woman I saw on the night of the Great Fire.” Licking her lips, she studied their joined hands. “But there’s more I didn’t tell ye. Before long a man began to appear in my dreams. He’d smother the flames and save me, but try as I might, I never could see his face clearly – except for his eyes.” She lifted her head and gazed at him. “Your eyes, David.”
The prickly feeling returned. “How can you be sure of that?” he asked, shaking his head skeptically.
“I’m sure. They were the exact same shade of gray-green as yours, with the same dark brows.” Pulling one hand free, she smoothed his eyebrow and gave another half-sad smile. “Only they didn’t scowl at me so. They were warm and soft as if he . . . as if you cared for me.”
He swallowed hard and started to say he did care for her – more than cared for her – but she continued before he could get the words out.
“Anyhow, I came to believe ye real and that we were destined to . . . to meet.” She wore a carefully blank expression, but he knew she’d meant to say something other than ‘meet’.
“But Da was insisting I choose a husband from among the lads he kept parading before me. We were always at each other’s throats, and him threatening to arrange a marriage for me.” She tossed her head defiantly. “Humph! As if I would have agreed to it!”
David grinned despite his roiled emotions. “Where did the, uh, vision come in?” he prodded.
She looked down again, absently playing with a fold of her skirt. “I grew desperate wondering were ye truly real or only a fanciful dream after all, and I feared I’d end up an old maid waiting for ye.”
He caught her free hand to still its nervous movements and gave both her hands a gentle squeeze.
“So I decided to seek a vision,” she went on. “’Tis the only time I’ve ever deliberately called one up. Uh, until tonight. And sure enough, I saw ye – your eyes, that is – and I asked where I might find ye. And this voice in my head said ‘Look west’.”
Her gaze shifted, staring blankly into space, and her voice dropped to a reedy whisper. “Then your eyes faded away and the demon’s eyes appeared. They were reddish-orange, like the flames of hell, and mad with hate, and his black, claw of a hand reached out for me as if to tear me apart.” She looked up urgently. “David, I’ve known since that night that I’d be meeting him one day. And just now, when I tried to call up a vision of you, I saw him instead. ’Twas as if he were here in this very room.” Beginning to tremble again, she took an uneven breath. “He’s close by, I’m sure of it. Ye must believe me.”
Crushing her to him, he absorbed her tremors. “I do, sweetheart, I do.” How could he not believe her when he clearly recalled how she’d stared at him when they first met, as if she were seeing a ghost? And after witnessing her terror a few moments ago. Awed by her rare gift and humbled by her brave determination to find him, he said, “But you have got to believe I’ll protect you. I won’t let him hurt you.”
“But what if –”
“No what ifs.” He tipped her chin up and gazed into her lovely bluebonnet eyes. “Trust me.”
“I do. Completely,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry for ever doubting you. I was wrong to –”
David stopped her words with a kiss. She opened to him and he drank from her sweetness for a long moment, then covered her face with kisses. Love welled up clear and unstoppable from deep in his heart. “I’ve been a fool, but no more,” he whispered. “Jessie, I –”
A gunshot shattered the night stillness.
David jerked his head up while Jessie gasped and clutched at him in alarm. “What the devil?” he muttered. He pried her hands loose and bounded off the bed as more shots rang out. Grabbing his gun belt from off the bedpost, he ordered, “Stay here!”
“David, don’t go out there!” she cried as he charged into the hall.
Ignoring her plea, he strapped on his gun as he raced for the front door. He drew his .44 just as the door burst open and damn near shot Sul Smith when he rushed inside.
“Don’t shoot! It’s me!” the old cowhand yelled not a moment too soon. He ducked out of the way and another man dove in after him, crying out when a bullet struck him from behind. More bullets thudded into the outer walls as Sul slammed the door shut.
“They got me in the leg,” the wounded man gritted.
David couldn’t make out his face but recognized Shorty’s voice. He was about to go to the man’s aid when Jessie rushed up.
“I’ll see to him,” she said, brushing past him in the dark hall.
“Jessie, I told you to stay in the bedroom,” he barked.
“I’ll not be hiding back there when I’m needed here,” she said, making her way to Shorty’s side. “Which leg?” she asked, crouching beside him.
“The left one, ma’am.Above the knee.”
David muttered a curse as bullets smashed the parlor and dining room windows, but he didn’t argue, realizing Jessie would be safer up here if the raiders came over the wall into the courtyard. At least there were no windows in the hallway, so she’d have good cover. Stepping around her and Shorty, he reclaimed his carbine from the corner by the door, where he’d stood it a while ago, rather than bothering to hang it over the fireplace.
“Who’s doing all the shooting?” his father shouted, his cane tapping out his hurried approach along the hall. “Is it Indians?”
On his heels, Anna came shrieking, “Comanches! It’s them bloodthirsty devils again!”
“No sir, no ma’am, they ain’t Injuns,” Sul said. “I heard ’em sneaking up when I went out to, uh, get some air, and one of ’em was whispering orders in American.”
“Then who the hell are they and what do they want?” Pa demanded to know from the dining room entrance. Moonlight from the room’s broken out window revealed the rifle in his hands.
As if in answer, a gravel-voiced raider shouted, “You in the house, we’ve got some things to talk over with yuh. Better come on out ’fore we get mad!” He issued a grating laugh, evidently enjoying himself.
“Thinks he’s real funny,” Pa growled. “David, Sul, get the parlor shutters closed. I’ll take the dining room.” As he limped to his post, he vowed, “We’ll show those so-and-sos a thing or two.”
“He’s still got plenty of fight in him,” Sul remarked.
“Yeah,” David replied grimly. He directed Shorty to guard the door and told Jessie and Anna to stay put in the hall. Giving Jessie’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, he darted into the parlor, keeping low to avoid flying lead. Sul followed. Each taking one of the windows, they slid the heavy shutters across the openings and began to return fire through the notches cut into the wood panels for just that purpose.
David realized some of the shooting sounded farther off, from down near the b
unkhouse. “Sounds like our men are giving the bastards a fight,” he said between shots.
“Sure does. I woke ’em. Then Shorty ’n me made a break for the house. Figured you’d need some help. Bill Hendrix got hit trying to get out with us. He’s dead. The others are penned up in the bunkhouse.”
“Damn!” Sorry to hear one of his father’s longtime hands had been killed, David hoped the rest of the crew would survive. He also wondered how long he, his father and the other two men would be able to hold the house. Not voicing his worry, he directed Sul to go close the shutters in the rest of the house, then station himself at the back door. Apparently, the raiders hadn’t yet scaled the high courtyard wall, but David figured they’d try it sooner or later.
Following her husband’s order, Jessie stayed crouched with Anna in the hall while shots reverberated through the night. A few moments later, the firing from outside suddenly let up. Hoping the attackers, whoever they were, had grown discouraged and were leaving, Jessie gave a start when a dull thump sounded overhead. Two more thumps followed in quick succession.
“Ah, shit!” Shorty blurted. “Uh, beggin’ your pardon, ladies, but it sounds like those snakes are torchin’ the roof!”
“No!” Jessie gasped. “Not fire!”
But he was right, and very soon she found herself in the middle of her nightmare. Only this was no dream; she would not awake safe in David’s arms. The acrid smoke filling the house, the heat and roar of the flames were all too real.
David, Reece and Sul retreated into the hall, Sul reporting that the outlaws had invaded the courtyard. There was no escape. If they wanted to survive the inferno, they would have to surrender.
“Y’all ready to come out yet?” shouted the villain with the harsh, ugly voice. “That roof looks like she’s gonna go any minute now.”