by Laura Drewry
Her throat, nose and eyes burned with the relentless flow of huge, hot tears. How long she sat there, up against the wall with the chamber bowl in her lap, she had no idea, but it was long after Big Bill called the last dance, and long after the sounds of wagons driving off down the road filtered up through the open windows.
She didn’t care. She just didn’t care. Travers had humiliated her worse than she could have ever imagined – and he’d planned the whole thing.
Darkness swallowed the room. And her heart. Twice the door downstairs opened and closed, but Jo stayed where she was. The thought of facing anyone – and God forbid Mac – was enough to make her retch again.
It was much later when Ginny’s voice called up the stairs.
“Girls - are you up there?”
She didn’t answer, just pressed herself tighter against the wall. When Ginny’s foot sounded against the bottom step, a sob broke from Jo’s throat before she could stop it.
“Joanna?” The footsteps sped up, then stopped at Carrie’s door. Ginny’s face appeared in the light of her oil lamp. “What on earth?”
“Don’t,” Jo sobbed. “Stay over there.”
“Nonsense,” Ginny said, setting the lamp down on the vanity and turning to look at her niece. “Good Lord, Joanna, what’s wrong?”
Jo shook her head. “Nothing. I’m just more stupid than I thought.” She tried to force out a laugh, but it came out as an even louder sob.
Ginny moved closer, her arms out, but Jo leapt to her feet and scrambled away.
“Don’t, Ginny. Don’t touch me.”
Ginny stopped, clasped her hands at her belly, and spoke slowly. “What is it, Joanna? And why are you in Carrie’s room?”
Jo shook her head harder and moved farther away from her aunt. She couldn’t let Ginny hug her or she’d never get control of herself again.
“Where’s Carrie?” Ginny asked, yet the sound of her niece’s name seemed to put everything in place. “Where is she, Joanna?”
“G-gone.”
“Gone where?” Ginny stepped into the doorway and yelled like Jo had never heard before. “Mac!”
“Sh-she’s gone.”
“Yes, Joanna, you’ve said that.” She moved back into the room and inched a little closer to Jo. “Where did she go?”
Mac’s feet pounded up the stairs. “What’s going. . .holy hell, Joanna, what’s wrong?”
Both women ignored him.
“You have to tell me, Joanna.” Ginny’s voice was so calm. How could she be calm at a time like this? “Where did Carrie go?”
Unable to find her voice, Jo lifted a shaky hand and pointed to the floor near the vanity where she’d thrown Carrie’s balled up note. Mac reached it first.
“Jesus Christ.” He blew out a long breath, his face turning every shade of red under the sun. “I’m gonna kill that sonuvabitch.”
Ginny grabbed the paper away, read it quickly, then handed it back to Mac.
“You’ve not seen Levi?” she asked quietly.
Jo shook her head. “H-he went to ch-change his shirt.”
“When?” Mac demanded.
“I. . .I don’t know. Long time ago.”
“How long?” He moved toward her, but Ginny held him back.
“I-I don’t kn-know,” she repeated, wishing the bowl was closer.
“Joey--”
“No, Mac.” Ginny put her hand out. “Go to Levi’s cabin and see if there’s anything down there to explain this. And no matter what you find, bring it back here.”
“I’m taking my gun.”
Neither Jo nor Ginny put up an argument. He stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Minutes passed. Long deafening minutes in the quiet room with Ginny.
Jo finally came out of her corner long enough to grab the pitcher of the chamber set and retch into it. But Ginny didn’t touch her; didn’t rub her back or bring her water like she normally did when Jo was sick.
No amount of touching or water was going to make this better.
Finally, and slowly, Mac’s feet sounded on the floor downstairs. Jo clung to the pitcher, praying for a miracle. A miracle she knew wouldn’t happen. Not for her.
Mac stepped into the room looking absolutely gray. His shotgun hung over his shoulder, his fists tight against his thighs. For a moment, Jo thought she’d have to pass him the pitcher, but then he spoke and she knew she’d never give the thing up.
“He’s gone.”
“How do you know?” Ginny asked weakly.
He uncurled his left fist and handed her a scrap of paper. Oh God – not another note.
Ginny read it quickly, her eyes darting from Mac to Jo.
“Give it to me, Ginny.”
“Joanna,” Ginny began, but Mac cut her off this time.
“Give it to her.”
With great reluctance, Ginny held out the paper, which Jo snatched away and scrambled back to her corner.
Gone to S.F.
That’s all it said, yet it meant more than any other words ever had. She slumped to the floor, her whole body aching with every breath. Her mind went blank, her heart shattered into millions of tiny pieces.
“Joanna.” Ginny stepped toward her, but Jo held her off with a raised hand.
“Don’t touch me, Ginny,” she sobbed. “Just leave me alone.”
“But--”
“For God’s sake, Ginny, please,” she cried, her voice hoarse and choked. “Just go away.”
No one moved for what seemed like a lifetime. Then Mac slipped his arm around Ginny and led her back downstairs.
More hours passed. The lamp flickered out, leaving Jo in darkness again, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything anymore.
She’d let a skunk like Levi Travers crush her, let her own sister betray her, but she was stronger than that.
She had to be stronger than that. There was a ranch to run and hands that needed to be paid. And now that Carrie was gone, someone was going to have to take over the bookwork.
Before first light, Jo forced herself to stand. Then she forced her feet to move; with each step her heart broke all over again, but she continued on.
Standing in her own room, she didn’t even try to stop the new course of tears flooding her eyes as she stepped out of her dress. Stupid thing – it should have been her first clue. No man likes a girl in a plain dress; they all like ruffles and lace and all that crap.
As she belted her heavy denim pants around her waist, she knew what she had to do. She balled up the dress and Travers’s old belt, picked up the two notes she’d left strewn on Carrie’s floor and made her way downstairs.
It was too early for Mac and Ginny to be up yet, so Jo stoked the fire in the stove and then pushed in everything; the belt, the notes, the dress and crinolines, even the stockings and the emerald satin shoes.
For a long moment, she stood and watched it all burn, then she closed the door and went outside. Broken heart or not, there was work to be done.
o0o
“You’re gonna get sour milk if you keep pumping that hard.” Newt stood behind her, clicking his tongue as she continued to yank on the poor animal’s udder.
“I don’t need you telling me how to do this,” she snapped. “I’ve done it before, you know.”
“I know what you done before, missy,” he growled. “And I know why you’re yankin’ on them so hard, but it ain’t their fault what happened, so quit takin’ it out on them.”
Jo’s hands stilled.
“I’m sorry, Newt. You’re right.” She adjusted the upturned pail she sat on, gave the cow’s flank a good pat, then set back to work on milking the animal. Wasn’t any use, she couldn’t find her rhythm.
“Get away from that animal,” Newt leaned over her shoulder. “I’ll get Clay to do it.”
“Clay?” she choked.
“He tol’ me he wants to learn how and if you keep up that way, we’ll never get another drop of milk from any of these animals.” He pushed agains
t her arm. “Move.”
Jo clicked her tongue, but moved off the pail and let Clay take the spot.
Newt threw her a harsh look. “Go find something else to take your temper out on.”
“M-Miss Joanna?” Clay’s nervous eyes turned to look at her, but she gave him a smile she sure didn’t feel and nodded.
“It’s okay, Clay. These cows will be a lot happier to have you milking them than me.”
Though he didn’t look convinced, he squatted on the pail and set his hands as Newt instructed.
Jo watched for a few seconds before walking out. There were always other jobs needing to be done. If only she could find one that required a lot of hammering.
With her horse saddled, she rode out to check the herd. It was going to take the animals a while to get used to the barbs, but in the meantime, they’d be suffering from nicks and cuts as they walked into the sharp twists.
Jimmy and Simon were nowhere to be found, given that it was Sunday, and she hadn’t seen Mac yet this morning. Just as well. If she could get through the next few days without seeing him, maybe she’d be able to get over her humiliation and look him in the eye again.
Doubtful, but maybe.
She spent the rest of the morning tending the cattle, cleaning their cuts and scrapes and applying a creamy white ointment she’d found at the feedstore last month. None of the animals seemed any worse for wear, thank goodness. It would just be one more thing Mac could give her his ‘I told you so’ look about.
When she was done, she climbed back on her horse and headed back toward the house. She’d missed both breakfast and dinner, but she’d run out of water, too. She’d just fill her canteen, then head back out.
As she rode, she studied the land around her. This was hers – all hers. It was the only home she’d ever known. The only place she’d ever wanted to be. Yet now, she felt nothing for it.
The endless blue sky no longer made her heart ache; the acres of rolling fields no longer filled her with pride. Not even the cattle, one of the best herds in the state, made her feel any sense of accomplishment.
Nothing.
She was completely empty inside.
It didn’t even make her curse when she spotted the windmill spinning crazily again. She just didn’t care.
Back at the house, she filled her canteen quickly, then scurried to the stable to saddle up another horse. She loaded its pack down with all the tools she needed, then hurried away before anyone – okay, Mac – spotted her.
She set the block and tackle, hobbled the horses, then started up the ladder again. She was bent over almost double, fishing around for the plunger when his voice stopped her heart in mid-beat.
“Thought I told you to come and find me the next time that needed fixing.”
Jo had been wrong. She wasn’t completely empty inside. She was filled with a rage so deep, a hatred so thick, it nearly sent her tumbling back down the ladder.
It hurt to breathe, yet she forced the air in and out of her lungs. And only when she’d fixed the stupid windmill again did she climb down the ladder and face Travers.
“Joanna.” His voice was so soft, so tempting.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she slammed her right fist slammed into his nose. “You sonuvabitch. How dare you show your face here after what you’ve done?” She stormed around the ground, picking up her tools and throwing them back in the saddle bag while he lay flat on his back, blood pouring from his nose.
“I--”
“Shut up, Travers.” She removed the hobbles, threw the bags over the second horse, and jumped into her saddle. “You best get off my land. If Mac doesn’t shoot you, I will.”
“M-Mac’s the one who sent me out here,” he groaned.
She held her reins tight. “Mac wants you dead. He sure as hell wouldn’t send you out here to me.”
Travers rolled up to a sitting position and continued to mop his nose with the sleeve of his shirt.
“I swear. He did.”
“You’re a lying bastard, Travers. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking by coming back here, but you’ve got about five minutes to disappear again.” Jo kneed her horse into a run, pulling the other animal behind her.
Tears streamed from her eyes and twice she leaned over her horse and threw up. Damn Levi Travers. May he and Carrie rot in hell together.
CHAPTER 15
“Joanna.” Mac’s voice sounded his surprise. “Where’s Travers?”
Fury flamed in her belly; slicing pain ripped through the heart she’d thought had died the night before. Jo slid from her saddle and threw the reins to Clay who was waiting at the stable door. “You knew he was here?”
“Didn’t he tell you?”
“Of course,” she stomped past him toward the house. “What the hell were you thinking by letting him back on our land? And where the hell’s that shotgun you’re so fond of?”
Mac hurried to catch up to her. “Joey, didn’t he tell you what happened?”
“I know what happened, Mac,” she grunted, stuffing her gloves in her back pocket. “He took my sister to San Francisco – or at least part of the way. God only knows what else he’s done with her.”
“Hold on a second.” He grabbed her by the arm, but she yanked away. “Joanna!”
“What?” she cried. “What do you want? You’re the one who told me he was no good. You’re the one who told me he couldn’t be trusted, that he was just messing with me.” She swiped at the tears flowing down her face. “And you were right. There, are you happy? You were right, I was wrong.”
She turned back to the house, dreading every step, but needing the comfort of her own room, of the peace and quiet of her own bed.
“I’m the one who was wrong, Joey.” Mac’s quiet voice split the air between them. “You were right.”
She followed where his finger pointed, to the front porch. There stood Carrie. And Will. And Reverend Walters.
What the hell was going on? She glanced back at Mac, who urged her forward.
“They’ll explain everything.”
Oh God, where was that chamber set?
Carrie came down the steps and met her half-way, her face crumpling beneath tears.
“Oh, Joanna, I’m so sorry. I never thought in a million years that you’d think I. . .that we. . .that Levi and I. . .”
“What are you doing here?” Jo’s voice came out in hardly a whisper. “I thought you. . .”
“Please,” Carrie pleaded. “Come in the house and let me explain.”
Jo’s feet remained planted. “No. Tell me now. What’s going on?”
“Where’s Travers?” Mac asked again. “I thought you said he was with you.”
A deep pool of dread filled Jo’s stomach. “He was.”
“Where is he now?”
“Shut up, Mac, and tell me what’s going on.” She couldn’t swallow and it was getting even harder to breathe.
“Joanna.” It was Ginny’s voice, coming from the kitchen door. “Come inside. We’ll explain everything.”
“Someone better start talking fast,” she snarked, “or I’m going to start punching more of you.”
Mac gaped. “You didn’t--”
“Mac, please.” Ginny took Jo’s arm and led her to the kitchen table. Nobody spoke until every chair was filled.
“Start talking.” Jo pointed at Carrie, then shot a long hard glare at Will.
“First of all, Joanna, you have to know how much Levi loves you. You. Not anyone else. Just you.”
The pool of dread got deeper.
Carrie’s face flushed almost scarlet as she continued. “You know I’ve never liked being here on the ranch. I’ve always wanted to live in a city – a big city with lots of excitement.”
Jo rolled her eyes and sighed. “I don’t care about any of that, Carrie.”
“But you must – it’s the reason all this happened.” Carrie wiped her eyes and sniffed, but so far as Jo could tell, it was all real, not a bit of acting put in
it.
“Go on.”
“When Levi told us all how much he loved you and was going to stay here, I was furious. I knew neither of you would ever allow me to go west by myself.”
Jo’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Will reached over and took both of Carrie’s hands in his.
“So I went to Will and begged him to take me with him.” She chuckled sadly. “You know how I am, Joanna. When I want something badly enough. . .”
“You didn’t!” Jo growled, reaching across the table at Will, but Mac pulled her back.
“Just listen, girl.”
She sat back down, but kept her glare fixed on Will.
“He finally agreed to take me with him, but we both knew we’d have to leave in quiet because you’d have tied me up in my room.”
“Again,” Jo couldn’t help but add.
“Yes, again.” Carrie offered her a small smile. “The dance last night was our best opportunity. With so many people here, no one would notice if we weren’t here.”
“But we did notice.”
“Yes,” she agreed, “but not until we were already gone.”
“So you got all dressed up for nothing?”
“Not for nothing, Joanna. It was part of the plan.” Her face flushed even deeper, as did Will’s.
What the hell was going on? Jo’s eyes flicked over to Reverend Walters who’d yet to say a word.
“And what does he have to do with any of this?”
Will cleared his throat and finally spoke up. “I know you think I’m a dog,” he said. “And I haven’t given you much cause to think otherwise.” He ducked his head, then looked up at Jo and held her gaze. “But I love your sister, Joanna, and--”
“You what?” Jo nearly fell backwards off her chair. Mac steadied her, then patted her arm.
“Shush, girl. Let him explain.”
“I’m listening, Mac, but my head’s beginning to spin from all this.”
“Tell me about it,” he muttered.
“We got married.” Carrie’s announcement sucked the breath from Jo’s lungs. “This morning. We rode out to the Scully place last night--”
“That’s like thirty miles from here,” Jo said.