by Tammy Barley
***
The hot bath greatly revived Jess’s spirits. She applied herself to scrubbing away the soot and smoke from her skin, and she found herself drawn to the scents and sensations of the present. For a time, she was able to set the recent past aside.
Only after Jess had scrubbed her hair and rinsed it twice did the smoky tinge fade to her satisfaction. The room began to smell less like ashes and more like rosewater and pine.
She pulled the dress on and buttoned it, no longer needing wraps since her burns had begun to heal. With none of the fashionable set around to impress, her corset held her to a more comfortable degree of confinement than she was used to, and Jess breathed deeply for no reason other than she was able to. The gown fit a bit loosely in the middle, even with the slackened corset, so she simply let the waist fall to the top of her hips and drew in the braided leather belt. With their fur linings, the Indian boots were warm and comfortable.
She needed to rest occasionally as she bathed and dressed, but the exercise gradually restored a portion of her strength. When Jess had finished weaving her hair into a thick braid that hung to her waist, Red Deer brought her a more substantial, meaty soup to eat, and the nourishment helped strengthen her even more.
Alone again, Jess used the corner of a towel to rub her teeth with a sprinkling of salt from a jar in the dressing table in order to clean them. Next, she used a needle and thread from a small sewing kit to secure her jewelry among the layers of her petticoats for safekeeping. Her gaze shifted frequently with renewed interest to the door. Finally, she hung her towels over the chairs to dry, deciding she would return later to put away the tub. She wanted to explore the ranch house and slake her curiosity about her new surroundings.
When she opened the door, the cheery sound of a crackling fire greeted her from below, and she stepped out onto what was more of a short balcony than a hallway. Jess opened the door next to hers. It was similar to her own in size and shape and was currently being used for storage. She continued on. At the top of the stairs was a third bedroom. This one was filled with a man’s belongings.
Bennett’s.
Jess approached the open doorway, catching pleasant whiffs of leather from within the room. From wall pegs hung long trousers, a few woven vests, and an old set of spurs. On the floor beneath them lay strips of cowhide partially braided into a whip-thin rope. Helplessly drawn by the belongings that were so masculine—so Bennett—Jess moved into the room. She trailed her fingers over the brightly colored Indian blanket that overlay the large bed and added warmth to the room. Beside the bed stood a tall chest of drawers topped with a lamp. On the peg wall was a washstand, a furnishing her room lacked.
Jess paused beside it to gaze out the window. Less than a mile to the south rose the pine-dotted slopes of the Sierra Nevadas, and, quite near the house, sat the outhouse. Jess lifted a brow. Until now, she had been using a chamber pot. She would forgo that amenity in favor of an excuse to go outside.
Stabs of guilt for intruding on his space pricked her conscience. Disgusted with herself that she even cared, Jess spun about—and froze.
Jake was standing in the doorway, watching her quietly. Her heart leapt to see his whiskey-brown eyes gazing steadily into hers. She recalled the pleasant ride they had shared into the mountains, and the way he had held her against him that last night in Carson City. Though he looked tired, his face was handsome with two days’ whiskers roughing his jaw. He wore another flannel shirt, this one dark red to match the bandana around his neck. His sturdy frame practically filled the doorway, made more impressive still by a new sheepskin coat.
Jess swiftly recalled where she was and what had happened during her last night in Carson City—everything she had lost—and squared her chin. She refused to allow this man she had begun to care for to step any further into her life.
“Hello, Jess.”
The timbre of his voice made her heart race at a panicked speed. By an effort of will, she slowed it by dwelling on her discontent. Moving toward him, she ignored his gentlemanly gesture of removing his hat, and she concentrated instead on images of when she had seen him last—when he had abandoned her father to the flames.
Rage swelled inside her, and she pushed past him forcefully. “Stay away from me!” she said firmly, then ran from the room and rushed down the stairs.
Below the stairs to the left, a low table, sofa, and two chairs faced the hearth. Nearly hidden from view by a column of chimney stones was the door.
Jess heard Jake descending behind her, gaining rapidly. She’d never make it to the door before he reached her. At the fireplace, she whirled around to face him.
Jake paused before her, hat back on his head, ready to continue his pursuit.
“I’m going, Bennett.”
“Going where?”
“To Carson City.”
“You can’t, Jess. It isn’t safe.”
Jess spun around and strode with singular purpose to the door.
“Your parents are gone,” he softly reminded her.
The plank door blurred. She reached for the latch.
“Jess, there’s something you need to know.”
His tone held a solid warning. Her hand stilled on the curved iron latch as she awaited the news.
“A flag was left near the ashes.”
The significance of the word slowly set in. Jess turned to face him. “Left?”
“That’s right. A Confederate flag, staked in the yard.”
“But we didn’t own a Confederate flag. Why ever would—?” Jess listened to the Southern tones of her own voice. “The men from the street?”
Jake nodded. “Maybe. I also found an empty kerosene can in the bushes behind the stable.”
Stunned, Jess leaned her head against the door. “The fire wasn’t an accident?”
It had spread so fast, she recalled. More than just wayward embers from a neighbor’s chimney had prompted the fire. Those Unionist fanatics had purposefully doused the sides of her home with kerosene and struck a match.
She barely noticed when Jake approached her from the hearth. Her eyes trailed up the stone chimney to where it disappeared through the ceiling high above. “What about the servants?” She pictured Elsie, Maureen, Ho Chen, and Malcolm, almost afraid now to hope that they had survived.
A few feet away, Jake bent to gather logs from the woodpile. He fed them to the fire, and the dry wood crackled. “They’re as well as can be expected. Edmund gave them references to find new employment.”
Jess let out her breath. They were safe.
***
Jake silently asked the Lord’s forgiveness for keeping the full truth about the servants from Jess. Only minutes before, Red Deer had told him that Jess had been unable to do anything but cry and sleep for days. He couldn’t burden Jess further—not now, especially when there was something else he had to tell her, a matter that couldn’t be put off.
He took a seat in one of the two leather chairs by the hearth, hoping she’d be encouraged to do the same. “There’s more.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“You’re trembling, Jess. You’d best come sit down.”
“No, I’m going to the Van Dorns’.”
“If you go to Carson City now, you’ll be putting the Van Dorns in danger. Except for Edmund, everyone in that town thinks you’re dead.”
At this, her eyes focused and cut to him. “And just who put such a notion into their heads? You, Bennett?”
Jake studied her. He had expected a degree of resentment for having her taken from Carson City without her consent, but he hadn’t expected her rage or the hunted look in her eyes. Maybe he could appeal to the grief he believed lay beneath her angry exterior. “Jess, it’s hard for you to see now, but the Lord has a purpose for everything, even for this.”
“The Lord?” she spat bitterly. “Ambrose and my parents and Emma were dying, and where was He then? Where is He now?” Jess dismissed Him with a flick of her wrist. �
�I don’t want to hear any more about the Lord!” She moved toward Jake like a panther stalking its prey. “And perhaps it hasn’t occurred to you that I will have a need for an income, and that my father’s share of the store now belongs to me. I also have friends in Carson City!”
Apparently faith matters would have to wait. “And enemies.”
She stared at him.
“The men who wanted you dead now believe you are. If you show up, you’ll be in danger, as will the Van Dorns, if you’re seen with them. Jess, right now Edmund is known only as the business associate of a Southerner. If those men had questioned Edmund’s loyalties, they would have burned his house, too. For now, his family is safe.”
Her green eyes blazed. “You mean safe as long as they aren’t harboring any Johnny Rebs?” she demanded. “They’re acceptable now that they’re no longer associating with traitors? Go ahead, Bennett, you can say it!”
“Jess, none of the Hales was a traitor. From what you said, your brother was fighting to defend his home, not to support some political cause. Most people know that honest people stand on both sides of the conflict, and that the worst trouble comes from fanatics.” He rested his hands on his knees and sighed. Every conversation attempted on the wrong side of a Hale was like holding a torch to a barrel of gunpowder, and it was about to get worse. “Jess, for your own safety, you need to stay here until the sheriff figures this out.”
“No, I have to go and run my father’s store. It’s the only means of income I have left. Besides, murderers don’t wait around to be caught. Those men must have gone,” she insisted, retracing her steps to the door.
Jake rose. “You don’t know that. You could be in danger, Jess,” he warned. “Worse things than fire can happen.”
Jess threw open the door and stepped out onto a covered porch and into a frigid blast of winter air. A rust-colored cat scurried in.
In the room behind her, Jake said, “In Carson City, you would be a woman alone with no one to watch out for you.”
Several cattlemen glanced up from various tasks in the ranch yard. Jess swept her gaze over three large corrals, various outbuildings, the barn…the stable. Ignoring the cold as best she could, she descended the two rough steps and marched past the men, her attention fixed on the stable.
Jake caught up with her and walked at her side. “You’d put yourself at risk? Your father wouldn’t want that, Jess. He’d want you to live.”
How dare he speak to her about her father! “The risk is minimal. My father would want me to support myself honorably. I can hardly stay here.” Several ranchmen had gathered in front of the stable.
“There’s good, honest work here, Jess. That scent you’re breathing in is clean mountain air and fresh pine. There’s nothing above you but sky, nothing walling you in but sunrise and sunset.”
“The pay is insufficient and I find the company detestable.”
“It’s a good way to get past hard times, Jess.”
Jess was growing more frustrated every moment. What he had said about a Confederate flag and kerosene whirled viciously in her head, and she choked with the need to be alone to scream at the injustice of it all. “You haven’t heard me, Bennett—I’m leaving.”
She came up short before a wall of chests. A line of perhaps a dozen ranchmen stretched shoulder to shoulder across her path, blocking the entrance to the stable. Impatiently, Jess pushed back her wind-whipped hair, her body shivering in the cold. Trail-hardened and leather-tough, the cattlemen gazed at her as one, obviously regretting such treatment of a lady but equally resolved to keep her from accessing the horses—her means of escape.
“What are they doing, Bennett?”
“I gave them orders that you’re not to leave.”
Outraged, she spun around to face him. “You instructed them before you spoke to me?”
“I thought you might not see things my way.” Though he’d been right, he neither chuckled nor grinned. Jake’s gaze held only…understanding. Understanding? She’d have to figure that out some other time. “You’ll have the freedom of the ranch, Jess,” he said, “and you’ll be safe. It’s only until the arsonists are found.”
“That could take months,” she growled, “or perhaps they’ll never be found. They could be in another territory or even on their way across the continent by now. And if a lawman is looking to arrest someone for ridding the place of Confederate sympathizers, he likely won’t be looking too hard!”
“I’ve asked Tom Rawlins to investigate.”
“How dear of you.”
None of the men gave any sign of backing down. At the same time, Jess instinctively knew that none of them would harm her. She began to walk around them, but they moved in order to bar her way.
“I can’t let you go, Jess.” Jake’s voice was apologetic but final.
Jess neither refused nor agreed to stay. She shot the men a glare, then marched back the way she had come. She went straight past the house, heading toward the creek and the scattered cottonwoods in the distance.
The men returned to work. A few whacked Jake on the back in good-humored sympathy, and Jake thanked them for their help in staying Jess. Every one of them looked relieved, almost eager, for the changes in their relatively static existence that Jess’s presence would surely bring.
When the other men had gone, Lone Wolf silently came up beside him. Jake scanned the foothills that stretched out to the west. The day was young, and the men could see to what little work there was.
“I’m going to see her, Lone Wolf. For a little while, at least. I’ve been away too long.”
“You have made this journey for more than a year, my friend,” Lone Wolf said quietly. “A journey that will not change how things are.” When Jake did not respond, Lone Wolf let the matter be. “I will look after the girl until you return.”
Jake gave him a nod of thanks, then walked to the rear of the stable. With a small knife, he took two cuttings from the spindly bush that stood there. Not long after, he was riding toward the mountains, two cuttings in his hand.
Chapter Four
Jess had watched Jake saddle his horse, but she had stubbornly kept her back to him when he passed her.
A small cluster of trees near the bank of the creek gave her a measure of the privacy she sought. She was shaking from cold but was too frustrated to care.
In Carson City, she had worked in a dark, cramped corner of her father’s store. She hadn’t liked it, but it had been her choice. Being brought here had not been her choice, and she had no intention of staying. She knew she wouldn’t have much of a house left in Carson City, but the town provided a means of income, and she desperately needed to be near her family, even if they were…deceased. But more than anything, she wanted the men who had murdered her family to be found and hanged. The sheriff and Captain Rawlins had only Jake’s description of the men who attacked her on the street. If the killers remained in Carson City and she returned, she would know them the instant she sighted them, and they could be swiftly captured. Moreover, her presence in Carson City would ensure that the sheriff pursued his investigation—and the hanging—with diligence. She would see to that.
Jess’s throat ached with the need to vent her anger at Jake for keeping her at his ranch, especially after everything else he’d done to her. Instead, she set her shoulders. She was her own woman now. Nobody was going to tell her where to live. She would leave the first chance she had.
At that thought, Jess finally surveyed her surroundings. The Sierras towered behind her to the south, as she had discovered by glancing through Jake’s bedroom window. Honey Lake, she knew, lay in the broad plain to the west. Beyond the purling creek, an immense grassy valley stretched away to the north, and to the east of the valley huddled distant groups of mountains. All around the ranch, the sage plains lay open and flat, uninterrupted except for the creek and the cottonwoods. Leaving wouldn’t be easy. There wouldn’t be many places to conceal her while she rode away. Waiting for the right moment would take t
ime and patience. She had neither. Her family’s killers might have already left the territory. If she were to have any hope of finding them, she would first need to get free.
In the ranch compound east of her, a hammer banged on a rooftop, and she saw a tall ladder braced against the barn. The building looked like a toy miniature from where she stood, and two men were working on the roof. Down in the yard, another man led a spirited horse to one of the corrals. Two more loaded a buckboard wagon at the near end, their movements partially hidden by one of the buildings. One of them casually lifted a sun-weathered face in her direction, then returned to his work. Jake—may he rot—clearly had ordered them all to watch her.
For more than an hour, she seethed in silence. Eventually, Jake rode in. He returned his horse to the stable, then emerged again. Jess stared into the creek, her eyes focusing on nothing in particular. From the cluster of buildings, sounds of hammering persisted. She rolled her eyes.
Refusing to while away the hours when everyone else was busy, Jess strode back toward the barn. Perhaps she could find a way to lend a hand over the next few days, as she had suggested to Red Deer. At the same time, she would study the workings of the ranch and thereby determine the best means and moment of escape.
Jess studied the compound as she approached. To the right, between her and the two-story log ranch house, sat a long plank structure she suspected was the bunkhouse. The cookhouse stood to her immediate left, smoke rising from its chimney. Beyond it was the smithy, its giant doors open. Inside, she could see Doyle moving about in a leather apron. He was working a hammer and red-hot tongs. Finally, she spied Jake, leaning over the side of the buckboard wagon, between the bunkhouse and the nearest corral. Though she resented the man, he was the one who could direct her toward a duty she could undertake, as well as answer the question burning inside her. The other two men who had been loading the conveyance each heaved in a grain sack, then headed for the barn.