The Promise of Jenny Jones

by Maggie Osborne

  Don Antonio's head snapped up and his black eyes flashed. "What nonsense is this?" Jenny believed she had observed an instant of pain at the mention of Marguarita's death, but now she saw only fury. "Did you bring this child here to insult my family in my own house?"

  Jenny's gaze narrowed, andher back went ramrod straight. "Apparently your relatives south of theRio Grandebelieve they are more entitled to your fortune than your granddaughter. They did their damnedest to kill us both. They did kill Ty Sanders."

  "If I had a granddaughter, no member of my family would dare harm her. If you are referring to Sanders's bastard"—he flicked Graciela a look of contempt—"your lies become ridiculous. Sanders's bastard has no claim to Barrancas property."

  "I have your daughter's marriage papers, Señor . Graciela, named for your late wife, is not a bastard." Dots of color flamed on Jenny's cheeks, but her voice emerged as steady as rock. "Your daughter was not the fool that perhaps you believe she was. She confirmed that Graciela is indeed your legal heir, Señor , whether or not you accept her. And you have my word that it's only luck that prevented your family from killing your granddaughter."

  Rage stiffened his jaw. "You are not welcome here, Señorita . Take this child, whoever she is, and leave my lands at once."

  Graciela's chin came up and her posture unconsciously mimicked her grandfather's. "Jenny does not lie." Her shoulders pulled back and indignation burned in her eyes. "And neither doI ! Tito poured snakes on me, and Luis blew up our train and killed Uncle Ty. They did, too, try to hurt your granddaughter. That's me, Grandpa!"

  He turned on his bootheels and had almost reached the door when a sharp voice called his name.

  "Senor Barrancas."

  Jenny turned to see Ellen striding into the room, wearing a hastily donned jacket and hat. She threw Jenny and Graciela an exasperated glance, then walked forward and seated herself on the only piece of furniture that was not upholstered.

  "Perhaps some refreshments?" she said in Spanish to the woman hovering in the doorway. "Coffee for the adults, lemonade for Don Antonio's granddaughter."

  The woman cast a quick glance at Don Antonio's frosty rage, then hastened away.

  Ellen's smile did not touch her eyes. "Forgive me for assuming the role of hostess, but it appears you have several guests today."

  " Señora Sanders," Don Antonio said icily. "Please accept my condolences for the loss of your husband."

  "I have suffered new losses," Ellen answered softly, beckoning Graciela to come sit beside her. "My son and my daughter-in-law."

  Hardly daring to breathe, Jenny stood beside the fireplace and watched the frigid but carefully polite interplay between the representatives of two families who bitterly hated each other. And her respect and admiration for Ellen Sanders grew by leaps and bounds. Ellen had seized upon Mexican courtesy and used it to manipulate Don Antonio.

  Moreover, Ellen had guessed Graciela's destination, had followed, and was bent on holding her own while sitting in the lion's den.

  "I pray you will forgive a blunt observation, but I doubt the loss of your alleged daughter-in-law pains you any more than the lossof a Sanders pains me."

  Ellen met his eyes. "You are wrong. I was deeply sorry to learn of Marguarita's death. I intended to welcome my son's wife to my home, and I was prepared to accept and love her. The Barrancas and Sanders women were never part of the feud between you and my husband."

  "I have business to attend," Don Antonio said stiffly. "When you have finished your coffee, Chala will see you to the door."

  "You have lost a daughter, and I have lost a husband and a son," Ellen said quietly. "Let it end, Antonio." She placed her arm around Graciela. "Let our beautiful granddaughter serve as a bridge of truce between your family and mine. She came to you of her own free will and against my wishes because she wants to know her mother's family, too. I was wrong. She is as much yours as mine. She was right to come to you. You sent one child away. Will you harden your heart against this child, too?"

  When Ellen sent Jenny a glance, she read it at once. Without a word, she moved forward, took Graciela by the hand, and led her out of the room.

  For the next hour, she and Graciela wandered the grounds surrounding the hacienda. No one approached them. No one spoke to them. When they spotted the boy leading their horses toward the heavy carved front doors, they hastened to the porte cochere.

  Ellen emerged grim-lipped and hard-eyed. She mounted her horse without speaking, waited for Jenny and Graciela,then rode out in front. She didn't drop back beside them until the horses had trotted off Barrancas lands.

  "Will he accept her?" Jenny inquired softly.

  "Damned if I know! That is the proudest, stubbornest, most unbending man I ever met outside of Cal Sanders. But at least he knows the whole story now. I don't think the old jackass believes half of it, but I gave him an earful to think about." Her gaze narrowed. "Speaking of jackasses … what the hell were you two thinking of to go busting in there like thieves rushing to a lynching? I ought to whup the both of you for being so dad-burned stupid."

  It was Graciela who began. First she looked astonished, then surprised. "Jenny. Grandmasounds just like you!" She burst into delighted laughter.

  Jenny gazed at Ellen and fought to hold her expression steady, struggled to look contrite. But Graciela's infectious laughter grabbed the tensions of the last two hours and transformed them into giggles. Jenny's mouth twitched. Her shoulders shook. And then she was roaring helplessly. "We must have lost our minds," she shouted, laughing so hard she thought for certain she would fall off her horse. "You'll have to whup us."

  "You sure as hell did lose your minds!"

  "Grandma, you can't cuss.Me and Jenny quit cussing. You have to stop cussing, too!"

  And then Ellen was slapping her hat against her thigh and laughing until tears streaked down her cheeks.

  Every time they looked at each other throughout the rest of the week, one of them would chuckle, and then they would all burst into laughter until they had to hold their sides and sit down.

  And each day of work and laughter, each walk with Robert, each task shared with Ellen and Maria, each trip to sit on the porch of Ty's house, each time Graciela slipped her small hand in Jenny's, made it harder for her to think about leaving.

  But she had to leave soon while at least part of her heart still belonged to her. She kept giving chunks of it away, to Ellen, to old Grizzly Bill, to the boarded-up house, and a small slice even went to Robert who held himself aloof in his pain and grief, lost in despair that she understood only too well.

  Tomorrow the month she had promised Ty would end. The day after, she would ride away, as hollow and scooped out as a person could be and still claim to be living.

  CHAPTER 18

  " G randma? Can we bake a cake today? Maybe a cake would make Daddy smile."

  Every time Graciela looked at her daddy, his sad expression made her chest hurt. When she'd given him her gold-heart locket, she had hoped her mama's portrait would help him feel better, but it didn't seem to. She didn't think her presence helped either.

  Of all the people on the ranch, she was most shy around her father. He held himself aloof and distant, wrapped in misery. Sometimes she guiltily wished Uncle Ty was her daddy, and she liked to daydream about her and Jenny and Uncle Ty being together. That would have been so wonderful and perfect.

  Graciela watched Grandma Ellen exchange a glance with Jenny before she wiped sudsy hands on her apron. "We'll bake a cake tomorrow, honey. But this morning, Jenny wants you to go riding with her."

  "Oh good!" She clapped her hands. "Just you and me? No one else?" This was a far better treat than baking a cake.

  "Just you and me," Jenny confirmed in a strange husky voice.

  "Can we go to Uncle Ty's house?" They visited his house regularly, pulling weeds away from the front steps, sweeping off the porch. Graciela liked to go there because she liked to think about Uncle Ty, and because she could see the rooftops of her gr
andpa Barrancas's hacienda from Uncle Ty's porch.

  "Put on your split skirt because we aren't going to ride those sissy ladies' saddles," Jenny said. "Hurry up, now. I'll fix us a lunch basket while I'm waiting for you."

  Before she skipped up the staircase she heard Grandma Ellen suggest that Jenny carry a gun. "A couple of the boys mentioned seeing strangers yesterday and the day before. At first Jake thought they were new Barrancas hands, but he did a little checking and they aren't. Jenny, you know I don't feel good about you and Graciela going up to Ty's place alone. I wish you'd take Jake or Grizzly Bill with you."

  "This will be the last time."

  There was an odd silence and Graciela overheard soft whispery sounds as if Grandma and Jenny were hugging. Something about them today made her feel uneasy. She had that strange prickle of dread and anxious anticipation like she sometimes felt just before a lightning storm.

  Stopping on the landing she sucked in a breath and held it, thinking about the long glances between Jenny and Grandma Ellen and the way they'd both been fussing over her during the last week. And yesterday, Jenny had given Grandma Ellen the documents they had brought fromMexico. Last night her daddy had said something about having Jake drive Jenny somewhere. These small events came together and suddenly she understood.

  Whirling, she leaned over the bannister and hot tears blinded her. "No!"

  Jenny couldn't leave. She wouldn't let her. She loved Jenny and they owned each other. If Jenny left the ranch, then she would go too. It would be a hundred times less painful to say goodbye to Grandma Ellen and the others than to let her Jenny go. She couldn't do that.

  Angry and upset, she struck the bannister with her fist. She wished Uncle Ty would hurry up and come home. He wouldn't let Jenny leave them. Uncle Ty would be furious if Jenny left, she just knew it.

  Covering her face, she scrubbed her palms against the tears burning her eyes. It was so hard to be a helpless kid. There was so much she didn't understand and couldn't control.

  Please, please God. Don't take Jenny away from me too.

  * * *

  Jenny couldn't figure out what had happened between thetime Graciela left the kitchen and when she reappeared with reddened eyes and accusation pinching her expression.

  "You got a burr up your tail?" she asked after they had ridden to Ty's house in heavy silence. "I don't remember you ever being this quiet for so long." She looped her mare's reins around the hitching post and watched Graciela do the same before she lifted down a picnic basket and carried it to the porch steps.

  Graciela sat on the step above her. "Why are you wearing a gun and those pants?"

  "I'm wearing a gun to humor your grandma. It was either wear a gun or bring along Jake or Grizzly Bill, and I didn't want to do that. I want today for just you and me." She pulled a chicken leg from the lunch basket and offered it, but Graciela shook her head. "Suit yourself. Anyway, the gun is just a precaution."

  "I know why you're wearing pants again. You're getting ready to leave, and you're getting used to work trousers."

  Jenny froze,then lowered the piece of chicken she'd brought to her mouth. She kept forgetting how bright Graciela was. Nothing got past the kid's sharp little eyes and mind. She had hoped to delay their private good-bye for a while yet, had hoped for one last lovely afternoon to remember before they got into fare-thee-wells.

  Lowering her head, she wiped her fingers on a napkin. "The Sanderses aren't my kin, honey girl. I've imposed on their hospitality long enough. I've seen that you'll be loved and taken care of … I've waited the month I promised Ty." She raised her head and gazed into Graciela's swimming eyes. "Honey, I have to go now."

  "Uncle Ty is going to come home and he's going to be really mad when you aren't here." Angry tears rolled down her face.

  Jenny sucked in a deep breath before she answered. "I've tried to accept that Ty is dead even though a little part of me"—she touched her heart—"refused to believe it. But, honey, if Ty was alive, he would have sent word." It hurt so much to give up hope. That was the hardest part of it. The ache was constant, her sense of loss as fresh as daylight. "You and me … we're the only ones who thought he might make it, but that was just wishful thinking because we loved him. I think we've got to accept the worst."

  The kid's tears drownedher, just fricking killed her to see and made her want to cry, too. She felt as if shewere strangling on salt and bile, and she wasn't prepared when Graciela jumped into her lap and wrapped her arms tightly around her neck. For a moment they teetered within a gasp of falling off the porch.

  "If you have to go, then I'm going with you!"

  "No, honey girl, you can't." Jesus Lord, this was driving a knife through her heart. She'd rather have relived Chulo's blade slicing her belly than have these little arms clinging around her neck and feel a child's sweet tears on her cheek. "These are your people. They love you, and you love them, too. You'll have a good life here."

  "I'm your people! I love you, and you won't say it, but you love me, too, I know you do, Jenny! You have to take me with you. Who'll give you clean hankies? Who'll sew you up?" Her arms tightened, holding on. "Who'll teach me new words and new things? If you go, who'll teach me how to be like you?"

  "Oh Graciela. God." She held on so tight that she feared she might hurt the child. When Graciela pushed back to peer in her eyes, she had to force herself to loosen her grip.

  "Jenny! You're crying! Oh!"

  They clung together and let the tearscome, sobbing until their eyes were dry, until all they could do was sit together in combined misery. Jenny adjusted Graciela's weight on her lap and rested her cheek against the kid's hair. She would never forget the fragrance of Graciela's hair and the weight of her small, warm body. That weight had started off mighty heavy; now she welcomed it. How was she going to live without this child? Losing Ty had already carved away half of her heart; she would leave the other half behind when she rode away tomorrow.

  "I do love you, Graciela," she murmured hoarsely. "No, don't look at me. I have some things to say, and it'll go easier on me if you don't look while I'm saying them."

  "I'll follow you when you go. You can't stop me."

  "I don't want you to do that."

  Marguarita? If you're listening, I beg you … please. Please, help us both.

  "Honey girl, believe me. I've tried to think of some way that we could stay together, but there is none."

  "You could marry my daddy."

  She had considered this possibility herself. And had concluded that even if Robert accepted such a doomed proposal, it would end in disaster. She disliked him intensely for keeping himself a stranger to his daughter, felt contempt for his weakness, past and present. "Your mama is the only woman your daddy will ever love." Graciela would grow up motherless and mostly fatherless, and there wasn't a fricking thing she could do about it.

  "But why can't you take me with you?"

  She fought the hot lump threatening to strangle her. "Because I love you enough to give you the life your mama wanted for you. I don't want you growing up on the streets like I did. I want to know you're safe and happy and loved. I want to know that you're clean and eating good food and sleeping in a bed with a pillow. When I think of you, and Graciela I will think of you every day until I die, I want to think of you here. If you want to make me happy, then stay here with your daddy and your grandma Ellen, and be happy yourself."

  "I can't—"

  A shot exploded through the quiet sunny spring morning. Splinters flew from the post above Jenny's hat.

  Before the slivers of wood hit the porch floor, Jenny had tossed Graciela over the railing and dived after her, drawing her pistol as she fell. Easing her head up, she peered through the porch rails, scanning the shrubs and underbrush. "Did you see anyone?"

  Graciela peeked, then gasped and ducked down again. "It's Lois! And my cousinEmil, and I think I saw the Cortez brothers."

  Jenny released a stream of silent cussing that would have curdled a preacher's eye
s. Now she saw the forms slipping through the trees and brush, maybe six men, and she spotted a man who looked enough like Luis Barrancas that Graciela had to be right. It was Lois. Her first shocked thought was: It can't be. Followed by: Yes, it can. The bastard had followed them and found them inCalifornia.

  She fanned a barrage of shots toward the trees and underbrush, her mind racing. Ty's place was too far from the Sanders ranch house to hope that anyone there would hear the shots. She could expect no assistance from that quarter. But without help, the outcome was predictable. She was outnumbered, outgunned.

  "Kid, listen to me. We've got one chance." And it was probably a slim one. She squeezed off a shot, felt Graciela's wide, frightened eyes fixed on her face. "When I stand up and run toward that low rock wall, you run as fast as you can in the other direction, to the hitching post. Follow me so far?"

  Graciela nodded. "You want me to ride back to the ranch."

  "No,honey, that will take too long. Ride like hell for your grandpa Barrancas's place. You tell him these are his fricking relatives and his fricking problem, only say it nice, no cussing." A bullet tore through the brim of her hat, knocking it off her head before she ducked down, face-to-face with Graciela.

  "What if Grandpa won't come?" Graciela asked anxiously.

  She touched the kid's cheek. "If he's decided to accept you, he'll come. If he's still being a jackass, he won't. It's that simple." But Graciela would be safe. Ellen had told Jenny enough about Don Antonio Barrancas that Jenny believed him to be a man of pride and honor. Ellen had hinted that the hostilities between the families had originated with Cal Sanders, not Don Antonio. There was not a doubt in Jenny's mind that the cousins had to be here without Don Antonio's knowledge. "Use some of that charmyou're always telling me you have, or my butt is dead. Now give me a kiss for luck, and let's do it."

  Graciela kissed her hard on the lips,then they looked at each other for a long minute.

  "All right, on the count of three. One … two … go!"

  Fanning her gun and running in a crouched zigzag, she dashed across the yard, bullets shaving weeds all around her, but somehow she made it to the stone fence with all her parts intact. She leaped over the stones,then dropped flat to the ground. Behind her, she heard Graciela's pony crashing through the underbrush and prayed there were no Barrancas cousins on that side of the house. If she had guessed right, that the cousins were here without Don Antonio's knowledge, she didn't think they would risk exposing themselves to being sighted from his hacienda. But who could tell what the crazy bastards might be thinking?