A Run for Love (9 page)

“Of course.” Her eyes drifted closed as he continued his ministrations.

“Your dream has come true. I’m leaving.” He held his breath, waiting for her reaction. Her eyes snapped open as her jaw dropped.

“Leaving?” She choked.

“Don’t tell me you’ll miss me.” He laid his hand over his heart, grinning.

“Of course not. Good riddance.”

Did he see tears in her beautiful eyes?

“So when are you leaving?” She blinked rapidly and fussed with the papers on the table.

“Now.”

Her head jerked toward him. “Now?”

Jesse pulled her forward. She looked so lost. No matter how she tried to deny it, she felt the tug. Something he intended to pursue. He put his palms on either side of her face and lowered his head. The scent of rose water and cinnamon assailed his nostrils. Her breath, warm and sweet, floated over his mouth like a perfume.

“Will you miss me?” He rubbed his thumb across her cheek.

When she didn’t answer, he kissed her, a bare touching of lips.

“Well?”

“Maybe. Just a little.” Her voice shook.

“Well, don’t fret, darlin’.” He leaned back and grinned. “It’s only a business trip. I’ll return in a few days.”

Tori shoved at his chest before she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her face flushed, and her fists planted firmly on her hips.

Jesse bit his lip to keep from laughing outright. “Gonna give me a kiss goodbye?” Her face flared fire, then froze like ice. But something else flashed briefly in her eyes besides anger. Relief that he truly wasn’t leaving for good? All of a sudden, he didn’t want to go anywhere.

“Go away.” She waved him off with a flick of her wrist.

“Come on, honey, one more kiss.” If he didn’t leave soon, he would take her right there on the kitchen floor. And he had a train to catch.

She leaned forward and pointed her finger at his face. “Go away, and don’t feel it’s necessary to hurry back on my account.”

He gave her a small salute and left through the front door, stopping to retrieve his satchel. His spirits lifted at her response. Definitely something to investigate when he returned. He needed to get to the train, and get this unpleasant business over with.

The wheels screeched like an animal in pain as the train pulled into the St. Louis station.

God, I hate this place.

Jesse dragged in a breath and cast a glance around. Memories of a small boy, tortured by schoolmates and ignored by his mother, flooded over him as he walked through the dirty train station. Only the necessity of having to deal with his mother’s death could bring him to where he’d spent a very unhappy childhood.

He’d received the wire yesterday. Rosie was dead. The authorities wanted to know if he would bury her, or if she should be laid to rest in a potter’s field.

He rolled his shoulders and headed south. A short walk from the station brought him to the area of town that housed the whores. Determined to do this last thing for the woman who’d given him life, and not much else, he pushed open the door of the shabby hotel.

Tori glanced at the locked door of Jesse’s office as she walked to school. A slight smile tugged at her lips at the memory of their conversation yesterday. It scared her how upset she’d felt when he’d announced he was leaving. She hoped she’d hidden her distress from him.

She still needed time to sort out her feelings where he was concerned. The gut reaction to his announcement told her what she was afraid to think about. Jesse had wormed his way into her heart. Sweat dotted her brow, having nothing to do with the weather.

Was she ready to even think about getting involved? No. She only felt bereft because he’d been such an anchor for her. That was all. The relief that he wasn’t leaving permanently was simply that. Happiness that she would still have his friendship. Nothing more. Friendship.

As her thoughts edged toward a frightening conclusion, she breathed deeply of the warm summer air and began planning what she’d fix for supper.

Early the next morning, Jesse stood at the hotel window and stared at the bright sunlight that didn’t allow any ugliness to hide. Dragging in a breath, he scanned the area. It was all there, just as he remembered, unsightly and poor. The streets that formed his childhood. He hadn’t been in this section of town in years.

The small red brick building that housed the school sat across the street. His stomach clenched. There he’d had a sketchy education at best. It wasn’t easy being the child of the local whore.

Heavy, humid air made walking across the room seem like swimming. When he reached the small lumpy bed, he plopped down and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He checked his watch, time to leave. He got up, grabbed his jacket and left the room.

Two soiled doves and Jesse were the only mourners at the gravesite. He threw a fistful of dirt on Rosie’s grave. He should feel something. This was his mother. Only an empty hole resided where feelings for his mother should have been.

The preacher read some verses from the Bible. Since the man had never known Rosie, there wasn’t a whole lot he could say.

Jesse’s mind wandered to all the Sunday mornings he’d stood outside the church and watched the families coming out. All dressed in nice clothes, mothers and fathers beaming at their children. Why couldn’t he have a life like that? His young brain assumed he’d done something wrong for Rosie to ignore him, and for there to be no father to take him to church and pat him on the head like the other fathers did. Eventually, he’d fade into the background and go on home. To the whorehouse.

“Jesse, I can’t believe how handsome you are.” Daisy, one of the prostitutes who’d mothered him when he was a child, sauntered up as the preacher closed his book and left.

Was there even an answer to that statement?

“It’s good to see you, Daisy.” It was scary how easy the lie came.

The years had not been good to the woman. Scrawny with yellow skin and rotten teeth. He shuddered as she latched onto his arm.

“You’re a big time lawyer now, right?”

His brain had taken a holiday. The stench of sweat, sex, and alcohol came off her in waves. All he could do was stand there and stare.

“Why don’t you come on back with me? I’ll get you something to eat, and then we can have a little fun.”

The eggs and toast he’d had for breakfast made a quick visit to the back of his throat.
I have to get the hell out of here.

“Um, sorry, I have a train to catch.” He fumbled in his pocket and drew out a couple of bills. “Here, I have to, ah, go.” Sweat beaded his forehead as he turned and walked away.

Even though late afternoon, the summer sun still blazed high in the sky. One more chore and he could leave this blasted place behind forever.

Three days later, Jesse pulled on the heavy door with gold lettering identifying the building as The Missouri State Bank. In his hand he held a statement with Rosie’s name on it.

A trim, middle-aged man sat behind a massive desk in the back of the room. The gold-plated sign acknowledged him to be Edward Pinon, President. Jesse shook hands with the banker and sat in the oak chair before his desk. One of two.

“What can I do for you?” Mr. Pinon glanced at the small card in his hand. “Mr. Cochran.”

Jesse shifted in his seat. “I’m the son of Rosie Cochran, who it appears had an account with your bank. She’s recently deceased, and I’m in town to close out her business.” Heat rushed to his face at the mention of her business, but the banker ignored it, and took the paper from his hand.

With a cursory glance at the paper, he stood. “If you will excuse me, sir, I’ll consult our records and get a final statement for you.”

Jesse nodded and leaned back in the chair, resting his ankle on the opposite knee.

The time it’d taken to get the necessary papers from the court so he could access his mother’s account had seemed endless. Days to wander around this hated town and revisit places he’d sworn he’d never see again. This morning he’d arranged for a marker to be placed on Rosie’s grave. After taking care of this last bit of business with the bank, his obligations as a dutiful son came to an end. He’d catch a train, and get the hell out of St. Louis.

Although not fair, he couldn’t help but compare his mother to Tori. The woman who was never far from his mind. Sitting in his hotel room hour after hour, or walking the dark streets when he was unable to sleep, he replayed the trip to Maple Grove.

God, she fired his blood. And not just the sex, which was damn good, but the entire package. A strong, determined woman, he respected her immensely. Somehow he didn’t think there were any circumstances that would make Tori sell her body like his mother had done.

She had guts, dragging four kids to a strange place to start a new life for them. Then she didn’t sit on her duff and hope someone would come along to take care of her. She dug in, started baking for the restaurant, hustled herself a job at the new school. He smiled, looking forward to seeing her again.

Of course, a major hindrance was her dislike of marriage and distrust of men. A difficulty, perhaps, but nothing he couldn’t overcome, with time.

Despite the skills and experience of the women he’d bedded, none had affected him the way that freckle-faced, spectacle-wearing woman did. Visions of her lush curves sent his blood racing south. He shifted in his chair as the banker returned holding several papers.

“This is the final accounting, Mr. Cochran. If you like, after examining your testamentary documents, we can issue a check for the balance.” He took his seat behind the desk and handed him a bank statement.

Jesse’s eyebrows rose as he considered the paperwork.

“Is this the correct account?”

The banker’s brows furrowed and he retrieved the paper from Jesse’s hand.

“Yes, indeed, Mr. Cochran. This is your mother’s account.”

Jesse’s gut tightened. Apparently Rosie Cochran had been a complete stranger. She’d saved a considerable amount of money over the years. Why had she lived the way she did, and force her only child into a life of misery?

He pulled the court issued papers out of his jacket pocket. The banker took them and examined the documents carefully. “If you will wait a few minutes more, I’ll have a check issued to you.”

The next morning, Jesse boarded the train to Guthrie. He settled into a seat opposite an older woman, busy with her knitting.

She smiled at him over her spectacles. “Going visiting, young man?”

He tipped his hat. “No, ma’am.” He paused. “Going home.”

Home. To his new life. Where one small spitfire of a woman waited. Did she wait for him? He sure as hell planned to find out.

As the train pulled out, giving him what he hoped was a last glimpse of St. Louis, his eyes filled with unexpected tears, which he furtively wiped away. Only too glad to close this chapter of his life, he rested his head on the seat and closed his eyes.

Tori glanced at the calendar on the wall. Almost a week had passed since Jesse had left. She’d kept busy with the increasing demands of her students and the baking for the restaurant. The long days took a toll on her body. More than once, she’d snuck into the bedroom after returning from school to take a nap. Even with the extra rest, she still nodded off early in the evenings, sometimes before Ellie.

Rachel walked into their bedroom as Tori made the bed. “I just started my monthlies, and I can’t find the rags. What did we do with them?”

Tori bent as she smoothed out the quilt, flattening her palms along the well-worn cotton material and met Rachel’s gaze. “Wow, that time already? Seems like you just had it.”

“No, it’s been a month. I remember getting as soon as we returned from the McRae’s.” She tapped her foot. “Do you know where they are?”

Tori’s hand froze. She stood and stared, open mouthed. Blood left her face and rushed to her feet. Black dots danced in her eyes. She lowered herself to the bed, trying to calm her racing heart.

“What’s the matter?” Rachel eyed her with concern.

“Nothing,” she rapidly counted.

Oh my God
.

“I’m just thinking.” Her voice squeaked. “After we washed them last time, I put them in my bottom drawer.”

“Thanks.” Rachel grabbed some from the drawer and shut it with a bang. “I’m off to school. See you later.”

Tori remained on the bed, shocked into numbness.

I haven’t had my monthlies since a couple weeks before we went to Maple Grove
.
And we’ve been back a month!

And here she thought a slight weight gain caused the heaviness in her breasts. And the naps! Now it all made sense. She fought the rising panic and hurriedly left the bedroom. She had to get to school. Behave like normal. Forget about what she’d discovered. But if her suspicions proved correct, what in heaven’s name would she do?

Damn that Jesse Cochran
.
It’s all his fault
.

But a niggling, honest voice reminded her she’d had her part in creating the problem. She dropped her head in her hands and groaned. Life wasn’t complicated enough?

I guess pretending to be married didn’t make a difference to God after all.

Two days later, as Tori unlocked her front door, Jesse’s voice called to her. He strode down the street, swinging his satchel, a huge grin on his face. Not the person she wanted to see right now. No sooner had she dropped her books on the table, than he stood behind her, his warm breath on her neck.

He reached over her shoulder and took a cookie from the jar. “Did you miss me?” He leisurely propped himself against the wall. Tori backed up, her fingers fidgeting with her skirt, unable to quite meet his eyes yet.

She took a deep breath and fixed him with a stare. His eyes bore into hers, and she stiffened her back, then opened her mouth to speak. And burst into tears. Jesse eyes grew wide as he tossed the rest of the cookie on the table. He crossed the room in three strides and pulled her into his arms, where she sobbed into his shirt.

Not able to squeak out two coherent words, she continued crying. Jesse’s hands moved in circles on her back.

“Is everyone all right?” He eased back, bending his head so he could peer into her face.

Tori nodded.

“Aw, darlin’, did you miss me so much?”

She shoved his chest. “Miss you! I hate you. You ruined my life. Get out of my house.”

“Tori, what’s wrong?” he asked gently, reaching for her again.

She slapped his hand away and took a handkerchief from her pocket. After blowing her nose, she inhaled deeply. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Is Rachel causing trouble again?” He tucked a loose curl behind her ear.

“No. Rachel’s fine. Everyone’s fine. Now go.”

He paused, then sighed. “All right, I can see you’re upset, so I’ll leave you alone. I have a lot of work to catch up on, but I’m not going to let this go.” His lips thinned as he turned on his heel and left the kitchen.

Jesse entered his office. The stack of mail he’d retrieved from the post office hit the desk with a thud. It would take him hours to get everything done that had piled up in his absence.

After taking care of a few pressing matters, he headed to the saloon. He’d been happy to see Tori, still dealing with how much he missed that bad-tempered woman while away. When he walked through the door, she’d looked as good as he remembered. In fact, even better. Aside from her tears, she glowed.

The brief taste of Tori had merely whetted his appetite. He wanted to coax her back into his bed, which didn’t seem likely. Women like Tori didn’t occupy beds of men they weren’t married to. She’d been eaten up with guilt both times they’d made love. More and more, he’d thought marriage between them could work very well. The visit to his childhood home had strengthened his resolve. He wanted what he’d never had, marriage and a family. And Tori was the only candidate of interest. She, however, had made clear her lack of interest in a wedding ring. Time to utilize his lawyer persuasive skills.

“Hi, Jesse, haven’t seen you in a while.” Mick, the large bartender with an Irish brogue who owned the Silver Spur saloon, leaned against the bar, wiping his meaty hands on a towel.

“Yea, I’ve been out of town for a bit. Busy before that. Give me a beer, would ya, Mick?”

The bartender poured the beer and slid it in front of him. “So what took you out of town?”

Jesse wiped the foam off his mouth with the back of his hand. “I had to take care of some legal business.”

“Well, you didn’t miss much here.” Mick sauntered away to pour whiskeys for two dusty cowboys at the end of the bar.

As Jesse observed the bar, he agreed with Mick. He hadn’t missed a thing. Same people drinking the same drinks. A tense card game in one corner. Saloon girls hung over the table, displaying their charms and hoping for tips from the winners.

He finished his beer and signaled for another. He picked up the refill, and wandered to a table near the window. A couple of girls wanting some action upstairs accepted the shake of his head with slight smiles.

His thoughts wandered back to Tori as he sipped the cold beer and stared out the window at the activity on the street. A woman herding several children into the mercantile suddenly raced after a small child headed to the street. Two boys broke into a fight over a game of marbles.

He dragged his hand down his face and considered her reaction earlier.

I hate you. You ruined my life!

He’d been surprised and concerned. The floodgates had truly opened behind his little hellion’s eyes. He snorted. If she did indeed hate him, he’d be nursing an injury right now, not a damp shirt.

Tori rubbed her lower back, then gathered the composition papers she’d been reading. As most of the children had been out of school for a couple of months following the land run, the school would take a short summer recess, but not for another couple weeks. The break couldn’t come soon enough for her.

A glance at the wall clock indicated time to get ready for the meeting at church. The new pastor wanted to build a fellowship hall. Sorry she’d volunteered to help raise money, she would attend the first meeting tonight, although sleep held more appeal. Michael would walk with her. The men were also getting together to discuss the actual building of the hall. As everyone had business to attend to, a time schedule needed to be worked out. Michael had volunteered, even though he juggled school and a part time job, and still kept up his grades.

She frowned. Another concern. How could she pay for Michael’s college? In his final year of high school, the time grew near. A very smart young man, he could go far with a college degree.

Of course the biggest and most terrifying worry she carried around with her, a baby growing in her belly. Most times she pushed it to the back of her mind by staying busy. But with Jesse’s return to Guthrie, that problem took center stage.

Several women already gathered in the pastor’s parlor. Jane Wilton, the pastor’s wife, would conduct the meeting. She’d set up a very professional table on the far wall, with paper and pencils placed neatly in the center. The kitchen table had been moved to the parlor, draped with a blue table cloth and covered with cookies, punch, and tea.

Tori fixed her gaze at the food, and her stomach took a dive. It used to be only mornings when she felt sick, but recently her stomach heaved both morning and evening.

I hope I can make it through this meeting without disgracing myself.

Libby Ewing and Geraldine O’Neill arrived with their daughters, both recently married. The young wives chatted away happily, comparing notes on setting up their households. Tori couldn’t understand why they were happy to be a slave to some man. Ashamed at her thoughts, at least they had someone to provide a name to any babies they might have. Waves of self-pity washed over her, and she fought back tears that threatened to spill. Great. Now she had to worry about vomiting on her shoes, or breaking into sobbing hysterics.

Would this meeting ever start?

Jesse spotted Michael and gave him a quick wave as he entered the church. Two men were bent over a large sheet of paper, apparently discussing plans. Michael had asked him to come since he’d been known to swing a hammer. He strode down the aisle and sat next to the young man.

“Thanks for coming, Jesse.”

“I’m glad to be a part of this. I feel like I’ve been away for a month instead of a week.”

The two men studying the papers began to argue. The Pastor walked between them.

Michael leaned forward on bent knees. “We’re just glad to have you back. Tori’s been kind of moping around lately. Maybe you can cheer her up. None of us seem able to do it.”

Jesse rested both his arms on the back of the pew. “I’m glad you brought it up. I saw her earlier today and she appeared a little upset. Is everything okay with Rachel?”

Michael shrugged. “Yeah, fine. I think maybe Tori’s working too hard. She’s awake pretty early doing the baking for the restaurant before she goes to school. Once in a while, I’ll get home from working at the newspaper after school, and I can tell she’s getting up from a nap. But you know Tori, she’s too stubborn to admit anything’s wrong. I hope she’s not getting sick.” Although Michael tried to be the man of the Henderson household, Jesse witnessed concern in his young eyes.

One brow arched, Jesse regarded him drolly. “You think your aunt is stubborn? No kidding.”

The dispute between the two men settled, Pastor Dave walked to the front of the gathering and conversation ceased. The preacher began outlining what he had in mind, the size, shape, and location of the building. The group soon got busy discussing dates and timeframes. The pastor announced he hoped to have the Fellowship Hall ready by Thanksgiving, when the church could have a community feast.

Jesse listened to the discussion with half an ear. So Michael had noticed something wrong with Tori also? Maybe the boy guessed right and she merely worked too hard. She certainly had enough to deal with. But the Tori he’d come to know the last several months wouldn’t react to pressure by falling apart the way she did earlier
.

I hate you. You ruined my life.

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind when the meeting adjourned.

“I’m heading to the pastor’s house to walk Tori home. You want to join me?” Michael asked sliding from the pew.

“Lead the way.”

As they approached the Pastor’s front door, the sound of female voices shouting assaulted their ears. The men meeting their wives entered the house, and Jesse grinned at the women talking over each other until he spotted Tori. Concern filled him. Fatigue showed plainly on her face. She pushed back loose hair from her bun with a shaky hand. Her face was pasty white, and her freckles stood out against her pale skin. If he’d ever seen anyone ready to run for the chamber pot, it was Tori.

The women wanted to have a church social as a means of raising money, and as usual in any group of women, they couldn’t decide on much of anything beyond that.

The pastor’s wife, a somewhat timid woman, finally turned the meeting over to Sarah Ann Gibbons. The stout, very energetic woman in her early fifties possessed no reluctance in delegating assignments, all the while ignoring complaints. Once Sarah Ann took over, in less than ten minutes everyone had a slip of paper in her hand with a task written on it.

Tori’s gaze met his, and she flinched.
That looks like fear on her face.
Why would she be afraid of him?

“What are you doing here?” she snapped, walking up to the two men.

Michael gasped. “Tori!”

“And good evening to you, too, Miss Henderson.” Jesse grinned and bowed slightly.

Her hand clutched her waist as she brushed past him, barreling out the door and down the steps. Michael exchanged glances with him as they made a quick exit to catch up with her.

“Tori, slow down,” Michael shouted.

She walked faster, her hand covered her mouth. Several feet from her front door, she bent and emptied her stomach. Jesse rushed to help, but she turned her back on him and choked back sobs.

“What’s the matter?” He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and tried to wipe her face, but she swatted his hand away.

“Nothing, I told you, now leave me alone.” She raced into the house, slamming the door behind her.

“What the hell brought that on?” Jesse asked as the door banged shut.

Michael shook his head. “I told you something’s wrong with her. She hasn’t been herself in a while.”

Jesse studied the front door, as if he expected to see an answer written there. “Did you ask her what’s wrong?”

“A few times. She always says ‘nothing.’”

“Son,” he said, laying his hand on Michael’s shoulder, “one thing I’ve learned about women. When they say nothing’s wrong, you can bet your world’s about to come tumbling down around your ears.”

“You’re probably right. I guess we’ll find out eventually. Good night, Jesse. Thanks again for coming.”

“You’re welcome. Good night.”

Jesse glared at the clock again. Two in the morning. Sleep wouldn’t come. Probably fatigue from the long trip. When he quit lying to himself, Tori’s pale face and vomiting outside her house swam into view. Something troubled the termagant next door. He doubted she’d seen a doctor. Tomorrow he would suggest it. That suggestion would most likely get him a snarled response, or something thrown at his head for his trouble.

He rolled over once again and punched his pillow. Deep breaths. That would relax him so he could sleep.

Just as the creeping warmth of slumber began to soothe him, a jolt of adrenaline hit his stomach, and he sat up abruptly, his mouth dropped opened in surprise. His heart doing a rat-tat-tat in his chest and his mouth dry as a desert, he listened to the distinct sound of his world tumbling down around his ears.

“Goddamnit!”