King's Ransom

by Sharon Sala

  Jesse LeBeau had been the only female, other than Maggie, on the McCandless’s domain for as long as King could remember. She reigned supreme and it was obvious from the welcome she’d just received that she still held the crown.

  King looked around, satisfied that all was in order, then closed the door to her room. He followed the sound of voices coming from the kitchen and hurried to join the crowd.

  Everyone was talking at once. King could hear the melee from the hallway and hoped it wasn’t too much for Jesse. He needn’t have worried. Wil Turner, longtime foreman of the Double M, had Jesse in a seat of honor. She’d always been a small child, and to keep her safe and out from under foot, whoever had been looking after her would usually seat her on a corral rail or the back of a pickup truck. Today it was the corner of the kitchen cabinet. Jesse was smiling, enjoying their banter, and allowing their high praise of her actions to heal her wounded spirit. Their praise would probably have angered severe feminists. But as far as they were concerned, it was the highest honor they could bestow. They vowed their Jesse had “fought like a man.” She was a true heroine.

  King remained unseen in the shadows of the kitchen doorway and allowed himself the luxury of watching Jesse. Her hair was dark and windblown, caressing her bare shoulders with a careless touch. The pink thing she wore was something between a dress and pants. King didn’t know the name for the culotte-skirted dress, but he knew he liked it. It was soft and clung in all the right places to very feminine curves. Her long, bare legs dangled with carefree abandon. And, somewhere between the front door and the kitchen, Jesse had stepped out of her sandals. King smiled. She was truly home.

  “Just look at that,” Turner urged. The men gathered closer as he held Jesse’s injured hands palm side up. “You got sand, little girl,” he said gruffly, and patted her knee. “We’re real proud of you, Jesse. And your daddy would have been, too. You’ve got real fightin’ spirit. If I could just get my hands on…”

  Jesse threw her arms around Turner’s neck and kissed him soundly, stopping the threat from being spoken. Then she jumped down from the cabinet and gave each of her old friends the same blessing as they began to leave.

  King wondered if he’d looked as dazed and silly when Jesse had kissed him.

  “Come on, boys,” Turner called, catching a glimpse of King’s shadow in the doorway. “Time to get back to work.” He turned and waved as they filed out the door. “Welcome home, girl. Don’t you worry none. We’ll take good care of you here.”

  Jesse felt like she’d been pulled through a “dust devil,” one of Oklahoma’s famous little whirlwinds that skips across prairies, sucking loose bits of sand and grass up into its tiny vortex. She was hot, breathless, and as satisfied as she’d been in ages.

  Jesse turned and faced the elderly housekeeper who’d remained oddly silent through most of the boisterous welcome. Tears rose, filling her eyes and blurring Maggie’s image. But Jesse couldn’t stop the flow. She didn’t have to pretend with Maggie. She knew it all.

  “Come here, love,” Maggie crooned, and gathered Jesse into her arms. “It’ll be all right. Time will heal everything he did to you. It will heal these,” she gently patted Jesse’s hands, “as well as what’s inside.” She pointed to Jesse’s breast. “Now, if you think you can stand it, I just happened to have a big, double, chocolate fudge cake that’s going begging. Don’t suppose you want to ruin your dinner?”

  Laughter bubbled from deep within Jesse’s heart and pushed the fear and misery back where it belonged. It did her good to hear the threat Maggie had thrown in their faces over the years. Maggie had a tendency to bake the most mouth-watering treats in the county and then tell all who entered her kitchen that they couldn’t have any for fear of spoiling their meal.

  “How about my dinner?” King teased, as he entered the room.

  “Nothing ruins your appetite,” Maggie growled in a teasing fashion. “You may as well sit down, too. But don’t think I’m always going to be this easy. This is a special occasion. We’ve got our girl back home, safe and sound.”

  Jesse smiled lovingly at Maggie’s attempt to lighten the emotionally charged atmosphere and then flashed a conspiratorial look at King. It was all the prompting he needed.

  Maggie rarely broke a rule and, adults or not, King and Jesse delighted in being recipients of the exception.

  Jesse sighed, replete from the ice cold milk and rich chocolate treat. It was good to be home.

  * * *

  “Duncan called,” Maggie told Jesse, as she and King helped clear away the dinner dishes.

  King had been furtively watching Jesse’s progress as she carefully scraped and stacked, doing everything except actually carrying dishes to the sink. He knew she needed to feel useful, but didn’t want her to overdo things on her first day.

  The look that passed through Jesse’s eyes, clouding their brightness, when Duncan’s name was mentioned surprised him. It was something between revulsion and fear. Jesse’s silence spoke loudly to his instincts. He wondered, as he continued to carry plates and bowls to the sink, what else was going on with Jesse that he knew nothing about.

  Maggie’s prattle fell into the silence, using up the emptiness in the kitchen. She seemed to be the only one unaware of her announcement’s impact.

  “He stopped by a couple of days after King left for St. Louis,” she continued. “Seemed real upset at your news, Jesse.” Then Maggie looked up. Her words ended abruptly. She sensed something was out of the ordinary, but didn’t know what it was. She shrugged and finished her message.

  “Anyway, he said he’d stop by tomorrow. I think he’s a bit partial to you, Jesse,” Maggie announced, and then couldn’t resist rolling her eyes a bit at the unlikely thought. “About the only person besides himself he cares for.” Realizing what she’d just said in King’s presence, she blushed, but refused to refute the truth of her words.

  King grinned wryly at Maggie, excusing her blunt statement as he’d always done. Maggie was as much family as anybody on the Double M and she had a right to her opinions. Unfortunately, this one was definitely on the mark. Duncan was a hard one to know.

  The odd thing was that King had always been aware of Duncan’s almost flirtatious manner around Jesse. It had never bothered him before. Duncan flirted with every woman within seeing distance…even Maggie. But this time Maggie’s words hit King in a different way. He didn’t think he liked the idea of Duncan and Jesse at all. From the expression on Jesse’s face, neither did she.

  “I told him not to come early,” Maggie added, “but you know Duncan.”

  “That’s fine,” Jesse finally managed to say, aware King had noticed her hesitance. “I knew I’d see him sooner or later.”

  King frowned. It was such an odd acknowledgment of the impending visit. It seemed to him that she viewed it as something to get over with.

  “If you two will excuse me,” Jesse said, looking everywhere but at King. “I think I’ll turn in early. It’s been a long day.”

  “Sure,” Maggie urged, bustling about the kitchen. “Go on to your room, honey. I’ll be there shortly and help you get ready for bed.”

  “I think I’ll be fine,” Jesse said, and then caught herself before she refused all offers of help. There was one thing her hands still weren’t strong enough to tackle. The faucets on the bathtub in her room were old and stiff. She knew she’d never get the water on.

  “There’s just one thing I may need help with and King can do that, dear,” she said. Maggie looked worn to a frazzle. It had been a long day for someone her age as well. “You know how stiff the faucets are on my bathtub. I’ll need someone to run my bath. Maybe in a day or two, when my hands get stronger, I won’t have to ask.”

  “Sure I can, Jesse.” King had also noticed how exhausted Maggie seemed to be. They were all so used to her coping with every aspect of ranch life that they hadn’t noticed she was growing older. It was good that Jesse was back. Maggie needed company. “You go on to bed, too, Mag
gie. I’ll lock up and see to Jesse’s needs. After all, I haven’t done such a bad job for the last few days, have I, Jess?”

  Jesse smiled shyly and turned away, suddenly afraid he would see more in her expression than she wanted him to.

  Maggie didn’t argue. She just gave Jesse a weary hug before heading toward her own rooms off the kitchen area. “Sleep tight,” she called back, and then closed her door.

  “Come on, Jesse Rose,” King teased. “You’re next. By the time I get all my women put to bed, it’ll be time to get up.”

  All his women indeed! Jesse glared at his back as they walked down the hallway leading to the bedroom wing and wrinkled her nose at him in teasing fashion, knowing full well he couldn’t see her actions.

  “Just because you have no middle name,” she muttered, “doesn’t mean you need to wear mine out.”

  “Well,” King answered, stating his point with unequivocal assurance. “After naming a baby King, what in hell else could follow?”

  Jesse grinned and followed him into her room. She watched him disappear into her bathroom, and heard the sounds of water splashing full force into the depths of the old-fashioned claw-foot tub. She loved it, and had refused offers of having a new model installed years ago. It was long and deep, and was ideal for soaking. But the fixtures were old and stiff and resisted all but the firmest of grips.

  “It’s running,” King announced, as he entered the bedroom area. “Need any help unpacking? I don’t know what Sheila included, but if you don’t have something you need, just make a list. I’ll take you to Tulsa anytime you want to go.”

  “I’m sure I can manage,” Jesse said, and continued to search through the open bags while King waited for the tub to fill. Her hands felt the familiar, well-worn softness. She smiled, pulling a faded, black, oversized T-shirt from beneath the neatly folded lingerie. Thank goodness for Sheila! She remembered.

  “It’s my favorite,” Jesse said gleefully, holding it up under her chin and spinning around to the mirror over her dresser.

  King watched the look of glee on Jesse’s face and then saw what had made it appear. He didn’t know whether to laugh or taste the smile on her face. The feeling that pulled at him was unfamiliar and probably marked the beginning of a sleepless night. He couldn’t get past the image that flashed in his mind of taking that damn “Bo Knows” T-shirt off her body and making sure he was the only one who “knew” Jesse LeBeau.

  “The tub’s running over,” Jesse cried, and dashed toward the bathroom, right behind King.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, mopping at the floor with the fluffy white towels Maggie had provided. She was going to kill him for using them on the floor, but he’d grabbed them before he thought. “I’ll get you fresh towels,” he offered, then grinned sheepishly at the look of merriment on Jesse’s face. “If you don’t tell Maggie.”

  They both burst out laughing and the tenseness he’d felt moments earlier disappeared. He didn’t know what was getting into him. Jesse didn’t deserve his betrayal at this crucial time in her life, and he had no intention of frightening her with any sort of out-of-character behavior. She’d suffered all the surprises she needed for the time being.

  “I’ll be fine now,” she said, pushing him out of the door of her room. “And, King,” she called as he entered the door of his room across the hall, “thanks for everything.”

  She closed the door without waiting for an answer and King felt oddly alone.

  Jesse had dawdled long enough. She’d unpacked, admired the flowers, taken a long, soaking bath, done the prescribed exercises on her hands, brushed haphazardly at her hair, and knew it was time. She was going to have to get in bed, turn out the lamp, and try to sleep. Just the thought of closing her eyes made her sick. She rubbed sweaty palms down the sides of her “Bo Knows” T-shirt and silently cursed the helpless feeling that was threatening to overwhelm her. Logically she knew she was safe. King was just across the hall. No one could hurt her here. But logic was lost in the terror that took over her senses when the lights went out and she was in bed…alone.

  “Damn him,” Jesse muttered aloud. “I won’t let what that creep did—or tried to do to me—ruin the rest of my life. I won’t.”

  She walked around the familiar old four-poster bed, pulled back the lightweight coverlet and crawled on her knees up into the middle of the mattress. The central air conditioning made sleeping under a sheet quite comfortable, but Jesse couldn’t bring herself to lie down or turn out the lights. Finally, she allowed herself the luxury of just leaning against the nest of pillows at her back. She was so tired. She’d only close her eyes for a moment. She wouldn’t turn out the light, not just yet…not until she accustomed herself to her old room again…and the shadows…and the night sounds in the country. She fell asleep within minutes, curled into a tight little ball. And, in spite of all her determination, she began to dream.

  It was always the same—the instant knowledge that she wasn’t alone, the awful smell of an unwashed body, the odor of alcohol, the rough ugly words…and the knife. Jesse moaned softly, tossing about as she lay uncovered in the middle of the bed, kicking weakly in her sleep. The moans became a plea for mercy, the plea became a cry, the cry a scream.

  King was on his feet and inside her room before he fully realized he’d gotten out of bed. But he knew what was wrong with Jesse the instant her terrorized screams had pierced his sleep.

  Hesitating no longer than the time it took him to reach her bed, he scooped Jesse up into his arms with a single motion and spoke her name aloud in a calm, soothing tone of voice. She was awake almost instantly. It took another moment before the tears came, but when they did, they were cleansing; washing away the nightmare King had put to an abrupt end.

  “Is she all right?” Maggie asked, trying to mask the panic she’d felt as she heard Jesse’s pitiful cry. She’d reached the room only seconds behind King and had seen the natural way he’d handled the tense situation. Instinctively, he’d done the right thing. She took in the sight of the scantily clad girl, the big, half-dressed man holding her tightly, and squashed the thought that crept into her heart.

  “She will be now,” King said, lowering Jesse to the floor, refusing to relinquish his hold on her. “We’ve been through this before, haven’t we, Jess?”

  Tilting her chin back with the tip of his finger, he wiped away the last of her tears and sighed. “It’s okay, Maggie. Go back to bed. I’ll stay with her for a while. I should have anyway. She hasn’t been alone since the attack and this was just to be expected.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jesse whispered, as she leaned weakly against King’s strength. She felt his heartbeat against the back of her head, and knew by the race of the rhythm that she’d frightened him as much as she’d frightened herself. “I seem to be saying that a lot lately, Maggie. You didn’t know what you were letting yourself in for when you wanted me here, did you?”

  The quiver in Jesse’s voice and the vulnerability in her brimming eyes was enough for Maggie. Whatever it took to make her girl whole again was going to have to be all right.

  “Don’t be silly,” she answered. “You’re not a bother. You’re family. Now, King, you go on and do whatever you’ve been doing to help our girl get through this.”

  She wiped at her eyes and pulled nervously at her long, gray braid, then bustled out of Jesse’s bedroom, talking to herself as she disappeared down the hall. “Whatever it takes…that’s what we’re going to do. Whatever it takes.”

  King took in her tear-strained face, the rumpled T-shirt, the bare legs beneath, and knew he was asking for trouble. But for Jesse’s sake, he didn’t have a choice.

  “Come here to me,” King beckoned in a husky voice, and took her with him across the hall. Turning back the covers on his king-sized bed, he pointed to the unused side and gruffly announced, “I’m not sleeping in your room. That bed’s too damn short.” He softened his words by the gentleness of his touch as he crawled between the sheets and pulled Jesse down beside
him. “Now go to sleep, Jesse,” he whispered, and gathered her stiff little body against him.

  He felt a slight hesitance from her before fear overrode propriety. She backed into the curve of his body, relaxing with a shaky sigh as she felt the cool firmness of his long, muscular arms pull her against him.

  “Thank you, King,” she whispered, and drifted off to sleep.

  Don’t thank me yet, he thought with a silent groan, as the soft curves of her hips settled against his lower stomach. I’ve got to get through this night a sane man.

  Turner’s old rooster crowed twice before Jesse forced herself to open her eyes. It had been so long since she’d been awakened by anything other than alarm clocks that it took her a moment to re-orient herself. Last night came crashing rudely back. All the fear and terror of the night had ended simultaneously with being wrapped securely in King’s tender grasp. She allowed herself the luxury of watching the first early rays of the sun catch in the gold-tipped hair on King’s arms and reveled in the quiet strength emanating from him, even as he slept.

  The weight of his arm across the flat of her stomach was only a little heavy and Jesse knew she would have gladly welcomed all of him in a way King would never imagine. She turned her head slightly and tried not to let the catch in her breath alert him as she watched him sleep. He was so beautiful. She smiled to herself. Men weren’t supposed to be beautiful, but…tell that to her heart. She couldn’t quit watching his mouth as he slept peacefully, unaware of her. It was slightly parted, and the thought of tasting the firm, full-cut lips was intoxicating. Her gaze wandered upwards toward the thick, dark lashes that lay fanned over his upper cheekbones and knew that they covered dark eyes that rarely missed anything. Hair lay in mussed abandon on his wide, sun-tanned forehead. She resisted the urge to gently comb it away from his face. Instead, she allowed herself to see King as few saw him; quiet and vulnerable.