Love's Rescue

by Tammy Barley

  When she said nothing more, Jake gathered his horse’s reins. “Are you ready to head back?” At her nod, he nudged Cielos toward home, leading the cow behind him. Jess occasionally glanced aside, but Jake remained quiet and pensive for most of the journey.

  “You need a lesson in how to shoot,” Jake finally said.

  Shoot? Her brows drew together. “What makes you think I need a lesson in how to shoot?”

  “Learning how to maneuver a gun and practicing your aim increase your chances of hitting your target,” he said wryly. Then, “I’m acquainted with most of the ranch families around here, and I don’t know of any in which the women don’t know how to shoot.”

  “Perhaps I already know how—have you considered that possibility?”

  “We’ll see,” he said with a subtle smile.

  His response troubled her. Jake was patient and respectful, and he hadn’t once said a cross word over the troubles she had caused since her arrival. Her anger toward him had begun to dissolve, and rising in its place was something more pleasant, followed closely by pangs of dread. She stiffened—she was beginning to like the man. When Luina suddenly sped up, Jess realized the cause and relaxed the tension in her legs. The mare slowed. Jake came up alongside her.

  “Do you think to instruct me with that?” She nodded at his revolver. “Or with the rifle?”

  “Both, in time. But first, you need to be able to use a revolver. They’re easier to carry, whether you’re on horseback or on foot.”

  “Don’t you feel the least bit threatened?”

  He chuckled at that. “No, ma’am. You might shoot a man to stop some wrong, but neither I nor my men have done you any harm.” After a long silence, he spoke again. “This land is still wild, and so are all that belong to it. You’ve never lived in a place where you’ve been forced to defend your life, or the life of a neighbor or a child.” His dark eyes regarded her soberly. “You’re living there now.”

  Inside, Jess felt her former chill turn to ice. “You think the men who burned my home will come after me.”

  “Maybe. There are wolves about, and snakes, mountain lions, sometimes bears. But yes, if those men come after you, I want you able to defend yourself in the case that you’re alone. I’ll have the boys wear their guns from sack to slumber and keep their rifles close, though. Whoa.” He pulled up and turned to Jess. “During the days ahead, the boys and I will bring in the cattle we find within a day’s ride of the ranch. After that, we’ll go on roundup out on the range, likely until the end of spring. We’ll need to find the winter strays and separate our cattle from our neighbors’ herds, and we’ll brand the young calves and bring back mature beeves to sell.”

  He was leading up to something she wasn’t going to like, she could tell. “And what about me?”

  “I don’t want you here alone while I’m gone for weeks at a time. I’m taking you along.”

  “And you’ve already decided—without discussing the matter with me.”

  Jake searched her face. “Wilderness,” he said. “Horses. Freedom.”

  Jess looked out over the sage plains. They called to her, beckoned to her. “I don’t much care for your high-handedness, Bennett.”

  “I didn’t think you would,” he said, a smile playing on his lips. “Let’s get back. I’ll take you shooting for the rest of the day.”

  ***

  Jake and Jess rode toward a split in the mountain where Jake said he and the men often practiced their shooting. Lone Wolf came along to keep an eye out for trouble during the lesson; it was the beginning of a heightened awareness among the ranch hands. He took up position nearby and kept scanning the horizon.

  After tying their horses, Jake and Jess walked to a clearing. There, they pressed beeswax into their ears to deaden the clamor of the gun. Jake set one of the tins he had brought along as a target on a large rock.

  Jess watched him, studying his muscular build and skillful movements as he reached over a large, flat rock, set the tin, pulled his arm back, and turned at the waist as he balanced it. He…

  She shook her head to clear it. What was wrong with her?

  Jake walked back to where she was waiting. He drew the revolver and handed it to her, barrel pointed safely away.

  Jess focused her attention on the gun.

  “First, I just want you to get the feel of it,” Jake said.

  She looked it over. “It’s heavy,” she mused aloud. “Long barrel.”

  “It’s for better accuracy…less kick. Sight down your arm. Good.”

  She glanced at him, her arm aloft. “A lot of good aiming will do me if I’m on a moving horse.”

  “I’ll teach you that, as well, but not today.”

  When her arm muscles began to ache, she lowered the gun. “I’ll need to get accustomed to the weight.”

  “You will. Try again, and I’ll help you steady it.” Jake moved closer and lifted her hand in his.

  Awareness of him warmed her skin where his hand and arm touched hers. Jess stood straight as an arrow, focusing her concentration on her grip of the gun. Finally, she felt comfortable with the position of the revolver, and she pulled her hand from Jake’s to cock the gun. When she stretched out her arm to fire, Jake’s big hand closed firmly around hers. He spoke near her ear. “It’s going to kick fierce,” he warned.

  “Then let me try it empty first. I want to get a feel for the trigger pull.”

  Obligingly, Jake took the gun and uncocked it. He glanced at her as he deftly removed the load from the cylinders. “How did you know to ask that?”

  Jess lifted a shoulder. “It’s how my father taught Ambrose.” She cocked the gun again, raised it up, and squeezed the trigger. The hammer dropped with a loud metallic snap. She readied it, then practiced firing again. “It has a heavy pull.”

  Jess felt his gaze on her face.

  “It’ll fire at about half pull,” he said.

  She handed the revolver back to him. “Let’s see if it does.”

  Jess meant only to glance up at him briefly, but her eyes locked with his. Bennett, she realized, was considering her the way a man considers a woman he admires.

  In the next instant, Jess was struggling to remember her anger of days gone by. She was determined not to allow her heart to get ahead of her mind, but the longer his dark eyes bore into hers, the more she felt compelled to kiss the man. Instead, she focused her attention on tangible details—the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, his slightly hooked nose, his supple lips, the handsome whiskers shading his jaw…

  Abruptly, she turned away.

  Jake rammed home a fresh load into the pistol. She stole a surreptitious glance. He appeared to be fighting an inner battle of his own…and winning.

  “It’s ready to fire,” he said, in control again. He handed her the gun. They stood as before.

  Jess eyed the tin, then stretched out her arm. She curled her finger over the trigger and pulled.

  BOOM! A stone exploded twenty yards beyond the tin and rained down in tiny pieces. Smoke rolled away from the gun. Jess set the hammer to fire again.

  “Try easing the trigger,” Jake advised, “and don’t let it trouble you when it barks.”

  Nodding, she took aim as before, but grew uncomfortably warm and flushed with Jake’s nearness. “Do you mind if I try it alone?”

  “Not at all.” Jake stepped back and folded his arms across his chest, eyeing the alignment of her arm and the gun.

  Jess fired repeatedly, using two hands to brace herself against the recoil, until she had emptied the chambers. Then Jake reloaded the gun while she considered her progress. The tin still stood in place. She’d managed to make targets of stones that lay around it, but the tin itself hadn’t a scratch.

  Jake held out the gun to her. “Perhaps I should have brought a larger tin.”

  His humor surprised her. “Are you mocking me, Bennett?” She put her hands on her hips and eyed his handsome face with a challenge of her own. “Perhaps you should show me ho
w to perforate a defenseless tin.”

  “Ma’am, that sounds like skepticism in your sweet Southern voice.”

  “You keep my voice out of it. If you’re capable of it, defend me against that tin.”

  Lifting an eyebrow, Jake cocked the hammer as she moved aside. Suddenly, he crouched and fired. The tin flipped into the air, and Jake leapt to the side and fired again. It spun crazily, then fell to the ground. Jake fired again and again. Every shot ripped into the tin. Finally, he stood up and eyed his work.

  Concealing her admiration, Jess walked beside him as he went to retrieve the target. When he lifted the tin, it was impossible to tell what its original shape had been. He handed it to her with boyish modesty and touched his hat. “Your outlaw, ma’am.”

  Jess held it up to the sky, the sunlight blazing through its torn sides and jagged edges. She looked up at him. “And just what am I to shoot at now?”

  “You have a fondness for shooting rocks. There’re plenty of those.”

  She was surprised how much she liked his teasing her.

  “Then you don’t think the tin is in any danger?” she baited.

  They shared a smile as he holstered the gun. “Apparently not, but something else is.”

  He reached up behind his neck and unknotted his bandana, then proceeded to retie it beneath her braid.

  “Your neck was getting too much sun,” he murmured.

  “Thank you.” She smoothed down the fabric with her hand. “I should have thought to make one.”

  “No need. I have others, so you’re welcome to keep it.”

  They returned to their firing spot, more at ease with each other. Jake began to reload the revolver, then paused with an expectant grin. “Maybe I should show you how to load it.”

  “Maybe I could figure it out for myself.”

  Jess took the proffered gun and began to load it as neatly as he had. When it was ready, she searched the desert around them. “Where is Lone Wolf? I thought he’d come and shoot with us after he saw there was no one about.”

  “He’ll keep watch until we’re done. With all this noise we’re making, someone could easily come up behind us without our hearing. We’ll meet up with him near sunset.” At her small frown, he added, “I really don’t think anyone will come after you, or he would have already. But it’s best to pay attention, for now.”

  Jess nodded. She waited as Jake placed another tin on the rock, then turned to shoot again. The new tin remained as immobile and undamaged as before. By day’s end, though, scratches webbed the surface of the rock it stood on. With a promise to resume the lesson the following afternoon, Jake put their things away in his saddlebags and gave Jess a leg up on her horse. Together, they rode to meet up with Lone Wolf.

  After a brief silence, Jake said, “You hit so near the tin—many times, in fact—that I can’t understand how you didn’t hit it even once.” He looked at her curiously. “Just what were you aiming for?”

  Jess returned his gaze, her eyes wide and innocent. “Why, the tin, of course. I’m not accustomed to your gun, you know. Did you really expect me to hit so small a target with only a few hours’ practice?”

  Jake didn’t seem to know what to make of her. “You should have been able to.”

  “Maybe tomorrow we should bring a larger target.”

  “No, you need to learn to hit a small one.”

  “Then, I’ll just have to do my best.”

  He didn’t reply. A few minutes later, Lone Wolf joined them, and the three rode back to the ranch.

  ***

  That night, after supper with a ranchful of men, Jess climbed the stairs to her room, content with their good company and pleased with Jake for letting her ride that day. She closed her door and leaned against it, then peeled the calico bandages from her wrists by the orange glow of sunset coming through the window.

  Her hide boots whispered on the floor as she moved toward the dressing table to toss aside the bandages. The basin and pitcher that had always been there were gone. Surprised, she glanced about. A new furnishing—a lady’s washstand—stood in the corner. Jess set down the calico and walked over to inspect it. The wooden surface was rectangular and elegantly beveled, its splashboard carved with scroll-like curves. On it sat the basin and pitcher, with room beside them for trinkets or towels.

  In awe, she trailed her fingers over the delicate design, then sank to her knees to admire its slender legs, which had been turned on a lathe. The washstand smelled wonderfully of pine. It had been made recently, she could tell.

  And this time, there wasn’t a shred of displeasure in her when she mouthed his name. “Bennett.”

  ***

  Jake’s plans to take Jess shooting in the days that followed had to be delayed when more cattle than had been expected were found within a half-day’s ride. He wasn’t pleased that target practice would have to wait, but Jess said it was just as well. If there was going to be a garden that year, she told him, she would have to till and plant it now.

  So, Jake sent Seth to Janesville for the seeds she needed. Hiram and Nate rode to a neighboring ranch to borrow mules, a plow, and a harrow, which they used to break up and smooth the soil. Seth was scheduled to return with the seeds shortly before sunrise.

  When Jake and Jess stepped out onto the porch to greet the day, Jess stopped short, surrounded by the piles of sacks the young man had left there. In the yard, Ho Chen had set up an outdoor fire pit where he could cook to keep the cattlemen fed. Taggart and several other men rode out to bring in the day’s work. Others whistled and shouted as they herded calves from the nearby range to brand and castrate, rapidly filling two of the three large corrals with the young cows and the heifers that had borne them.

  When two men started a fire for branding in the third corral, Jess pressed a hand to her middle. “I’d best get to work on the garden and stay away from here until the branding is done. I don’t have the stomach for singed hide and all that goes with it.”

  “The men don’t much care for it, either,” Jake assured her as he stepped off the porch.

  Jess began hauling the sacks of seeds to where Hiram and Nate had plowed. Red Deer soon joined her. “Good morning, Jessica.”

  Jess turned with a smile. “Good morning, Red Deer.” Her deerskin dress was one of the two she had always worn, but now, the middle was slightly rounded from the growing child in her womb. Red Deer looked happy but tired. She laughed at the apparent surplus of seeds.

  “Always it seems like too much, but we will get them planted. I will send Two Hands to bring the Paiute women. Those who are able will come today. Tomorrow, even more will help.” She called to the boy, and he hurried off toward his village, safely skirting the men and cattle.

  The calves bawled in fear as they were herded into the branding corral, where a man on horseback rope each struggling calf and two others wrestled the animal to the ground so that a fourth could brand it with the smoking iron in his gloved hands.

  Hastily, Jess made her excuses to Red Deer and went to collect what they would need from the supply shed. On a thought, she paused at the water pump to fill a bucket in order to water the rosebush behind the stable. When she rounded the corner, bucket in hand, she saw that the ground beneath it was already damp and that several yellow blossoms had opened. She took a moment to breathe in their hypnotic fragrance, then continued on to gather shovels, rakes, and hoes.

  Jess neared the porch just in time to see Red Deer hefting a bag of seeds. She set the tools aside and hurried to take the sack from her. “Not while you’re carrying, my friend,” Jess said. “I don’t want you to lift anything heavy—not until long after your son is born. I’ll move the rest.” At the uncertainty in Red Deer’s eyes, Jess laid a gentle hand on her arm. “Where I grew up, we always helped one another when there was a need. Isn’t it the same among your people?”

  Red Deer smiled. “Yes, this is so.” Seeing the other Paiute women and their children approaching, she said, “Come. I want you to meet my dear P
aiute friends.”

  For the remainder of the morning, Jess tried to get the wary women and children to warm up to her. They were more hesitant to talk to her than Red Deer had initially been. As Red Deer had said, many of them spoke at least a little English, and the few who didn’t used simple gestures to communicate. Never had Jess been so conscious of her pale skin. Gradually, the Paiute women introduced their children to Jess, and by midday, they were telling her stories of their husbands and families while they worked. Some of them wore dresses of doeskin, like Red Deer; others wore long calico dresses like those of the white women. Nearly all had their hair cut below the ears in mourning, and their faces bore lines of sadness. Yet Jess was astounded at the familial love and diligent industry of the people. The children poked holes into the ground, and their mothers followed with seeds, praising their work. Jess came after with several other women, watering the seeds and laughing with them at her own bungled attempts to learn a few phrases in Paiute. It would be a day to remember.

  Overhead, cottonwood branches rustled with the growth of new leaves, casting cooling shadows on those who walked beneath them. Each time Jess finished watering a row, she paused to look back over the neat line of damp earth they had just seeded. Then she would share a smile with one of the other women or look quickly around to see which child had snuck up and tugged her skirt from behind. The guilty party always hurried away with a giggle, and Jess worked on memorizing their faces so she could pay them back with playful tugs when they weren’t looking.

  At midday, Ho Chen summoned everyone to the fire pit for dinner. Jess set her water bucket aside and stretched out her arms, enjoying the heat of the sun mingled with the cool of the breeze. The women rounded up their children and gathered around Ho Chen, who was heaping food on small plates for the little ones. Jess called to Red Deer that she’d be along, then headed for the well, certain she could drink it dry, such was her thirst.

  The cool water was ambrosial. Four dipperfuls later, she glanced toward the corrals, trying to catch her breath.

  Covered in dust, Jake and Doyle were bringing down the bigger calves while Diaz plied the hissing brand. Suddenly, a man reached out a gleaming blade, and Jess spun back around to face the well pump. She had no desire to witness the castration.