Brave the Wild Wind (16 page)

J
ESSIE rented a wagon to get Chase to the ranch. They left the next morning, with Billy driving and Goldenrod fetched from the stable and tied to the back. Doc Meddly said Chase was fit to travel.

Jessie sat in back with Chase stretched out on his belly, his head resting on her lap. He still hadn’t come to, but Meddly said it would be a while, not just because of the wound, but because of all the liquor.

Damn, but she’d made a first-class fool of herself in that saloon. And for what? A man who consorted with whores. A no-account gambler. An arrogant, puffed-up meddler. She should never have gone looking for him, she realized that. Did she want her child raised by a man like that? No. Never. She had let the wrong things influence her. She could just imagine the talk today, poor Jessie Blair, so in love with her man that she could forgive him anything, even getting stabbed in a whore’s bed. She was glad to be out of Cheyenne. She would never be able to live it down.

She shouldn’t care. She would have to stop caring what people thought, because women
didn’t live down having babies out of wedlock very easily. And she was not having that man for a husband.

Jessie had been nauseous from the moment she woke that morning, but as long as she stayed well away from food, it remained just a subtle queasiness. Now as she sat there watching the buckboard and the ground rattle and shake, the bile rose steadily. She heard Chase moan, but by then her complexion was turning green, and her own moan drowned his out. She couldn’t move fast enough to get to the side of the wagon, and she let Chase’s face fall with a crack to the wagon floorboard.

Chase’s eyes flew open, but he squeezed them shut in unbearable agony. If he were on his back, he would only be worrying about the phantoms stomping on his head, but for some fool reason, he was lying on his stomach and something was shaking him to hell and back. He managed to open his eyes again. He squinted disbelievingly, thinking he was enclosed in some kind of wooden box. But the box was open on one side, revealing the brightest blue he had ever seen. It was blinding, and Chase closed his eyes again. But there was to be no respite. The box he was trapped in rattled and shook, and he emptied his stomach over the side, holding on for dear life. It was over quickly, and he actually felt a little better.

With his head cleared some, Chase tried to figure out where the hell he was without having to open his eyes to the blinding light. The shaking, a rock-hard bed, walls two feet high, none of
it made sense. And there was the sound of retching even when he was finished.

He had to open his eyes if he was going to make any sense of it. Hesitantly, he looked to one side, following the low wall until it turned, and went on, and turned again. He
was
in a box, an open box! And when he looked the other way he saw silky black hair, a white shirt, and the shapeliest little bottom in skintight pants.

“Jessie?” he moaned.

Jessie wouldn’t answer, let alone look his way. She felt like she was dying. The damn retching wouldn’t stop, yet she had nothing left to give. She was empty but still gagging, and it hurt, and she wanted to cry.

At last Jessie moved slowly away from the side of the wagon. Chase had closed his eyes again.

“If you’re not going to spill any more of your guts over the side, you’d best get back over here and lie down.”

Chase’s eyes flew open. He couldn’t answer.

“Can’t you hear?” Jessie demanded.

“I fear…I…I would not be the best of company,” Chase managed to get out despite the thickness of his tongue.

“Company, hell,” Jessie grumbled. “I don’t want your company any more than you want mine, but it looks like I’m stuck with you, thanks to your drunken blunders.”

“I don’t…understand.”

“Oh, God, will you just lie down!” Jessie moaned. “You need to rest, and I’m not up to talking just yet.”

Chase thought it was more likely he needed a
doctor, or another bottle of whiskey. But sleep might help get rid of this wretched hangover.

The space was small, and Jessie was already lying on half the blankets. “Where am I supposed to lie down?”

Jessie moved back slowly until she lay along the edge of the spread blankets, but there still wouldn’t be enough room for him to stretch out unless he continued to use her lap for his head. Yet she couldn’t offer it without sitting up and she couldn’t sit up right now without being sick again.

Curled on her side, she grudgingly straightened her top leg so only the lower one remained bent. She patted the bent leg. “Your pillow.”

Chase grinned despite his pains. “Really?”

Jessie saw that gleam in his eye, but for once she didn’t get angry. She felt like laughing. There they both were, sick as dogs, and he probably had a fever as well, besides a nasty wound. Yet he could think of passion. The man was a marvel.

“I’m only offering you the use of my knee, so get all those lecherous thoughts out of your head right now, Chase Summers.” She tried to make her voice stern, but there was a laughing note in it. “If I didn’t feel the need to rest, be assured I’d be sitting up front with Billy.”

“Billy?”

“Yes, Billy. He’s got the reins.”

Chase looked up front, but the glare was too bright, and he found it easier to stay still, anyhow.

“On your stomach, Chase.” Her voice was firm. “Doctor’s orders.”

He scowled. “What doctor?” he demanded irritably, thinking she meant herself. “I never sleep on my stomach. And I wouldn’t have been so sick just now if I hadn’t been on my stomach.”

“I’m in no mood for you to be difficult, damn it!” Jessie said hotly. “Now lie on your stomach or your side, but stay the hell off your back!”

“Why?”

“If you don’t know, then you’re not sober enough yet for me to waste my time explaining.”

Chase turned on his side angrily, but slowly. Jessie went silent. Later, when she felt better, she would give him a large piece of her mind. The thought gave her something to look forward to.

J
ESSIE finally woke, disoriented, hearing Billy call her name again and again. She lay there until she understood that he was telling her they were almost home. She sat up, giving thanks that she could move again without having her stomach rise with her. But, of course, it was late in the day, and the sickness never bothered her then.

She hadn’t intended to sleep the day away. Had Billy been all right? She guessed he had. Chase was still sleeping. She felt his brow for fever, but it was only slightly warm. The moment she touched his face, his arm snaked up and wrapped around her extended leg, holding her there. Jessie almost said something sharp, then saw it had only been a reflex action. He was still asleep, snuggling back against her groin.

Jessie’s eyes became stormy. His movements were causing unwanted stirrings in the lower part of her body, but he shouldn’t have had any effect on her at all, she thought. It wasn’t natural, to loathe a man and want him anyhow. Was it?

Thinking about that wasted enough of her time that they were pulling up in front of the
house before she knew it. Rachel came out, took one look at Chase in the back of the wagon with Jessie, and went right back inside the house. Jessie shrugged. Rachel didn’t know yet that Chase was wounded. She would change her tune when she did. She’d better. Jessie certainly wasn’t going to care for him all by herself.

“Run and find Jeb, Billy, and see if any of the other men are around to help get Chase into the house,” Jessie ordered, then added, “And thank you, Billy. You did a fine job getting us home.”

Billy lit up with pleasure, then went to find Jeb. He appeared again in a moment, running ahead of the older man.

“And what have we here, little gal?” Jeb asked curiously. “I thought never to set eyes on this one again.”

“You’re not the only one,” Jessie replied with a good measure of disgust as she crawled to the end of the wagon. “But he got hurt while I was in town, and Doc Meddly happened to know I was acquainted with him, so he dumped the caring of him in my lap.”

“Do tell.” Jeb chuckled.

“It’s nowhere near funny,” Jessie retorted.

“But what was he doin’ still in town?”

“Gambling and drinking and whoring.”

“Do tell.”

“Oh, hush up and help me get him inside.”

“There’s no one in the bunkhouse, Jessie,” Billy announced. “Jeb said so.”

Jeb grunted. “We can do this, the three of us.” He turned to Jessie. “Can’t he walk none at all?”

“He’ll have to,” Jessie returned. “There’s nothing wrong with his feet. Billy,” she directed, “Jeb and I will steer him if he’s not surefooted enough. Could you go inside and get his bed ready?”

“How bad hurt is he?” Jeb asked seriously when Billy was gone. She explained, finishing, “The Doc seemed to think he should stay off his feet for the next few days, which means someone has to look after him. Otherwise, I would never have brought him back here.”

Jessie shook Chase gently, then sighed when he rolled onto his back. “He’ll be breaking those stitches for sure. I hope you’re still handy with a needle, Jeb.”

“Don’t tell me he got it in the back?” Jeb’s voice rose indignantly.

“Yep, but I’ll explain the rest later. Let’s see if we can get him out of the wagon.”

They managed, but it took a while. Chase didn’t even open his eyes until his feet were on the ground, and he was so wobbly that they each grabbed one of his arms to pull around their necks.

They put him in Thomas Blair’s old room, dragging him all the way. Billy had the bedcovers pulled down and was waiting anxiously. Luckily it was a low post bed with no footboard.

“Let’s position him so he can get his knees up on the foot of the bed, Jeb. Then we’ll lower him to his stomach,” Jessie instructed.

“Christ, no!” Chase growled.

“Oh, shut up,” Jessie said impatiently. “I
never heard a man bitch so much about sleeping on his stomach.”

“Lady, if you had two quarts of raw whiskey in your stomach, you’d bitch, too.”

Jessie released his arm and stepped back. “I recall you got rid of that this afternoon,” she said in a lighter, amused tone as she rubbed her aching shoulder. He was too heavy to carry.

He grimaced. “And I recall you retching right alongside me, so have a little sympathy.”

Jeb and Billy both looked at Jessie strangely, and that heated her temper. “You’re talking mighty clearly for a man who had to be dragged in here.”

Chase raised his head slightly. There was the tiniest grin about his lips. “Was I supposed to make an effort? Nobody told me.”

Jeb snorted and left the room, mumbling all the way. Billy giggled until Jessie’s stormy eyes lit on him.

“I’ll, ah, get his things out of the wagon,” he offered quickly, and left the room.

Jessie turned those flashing eyes back on Chase. “I’m beginning to think you’re not as bad off as the Doc told me,” Jessie said coldly. “And if that’s the case, Jeb can tote you back to town when he returns the wagon tomorrow.”

“For another ride like today?” he cried. “Not on your life! And what is all this talk about a doctor? I have a terrible hangover, but what’s a doctor got to do with that?”

“You really don’t remember what happened to you, do you?”

Chase closed his eyes wearily. “I got drunk,
maybe a little more than usual, but so what? I’ve been doing a lot of that lately,” he added, more to himself than by way of revelation.

“Maybe the name Annie will stir your memory.”

The anger in her tone disturbed him. Annie? The only Annie he knew was…

Chase put his hands to his temples, which caused a stabbing pain in his back. He didn’t know which was worse, the physical pain or the memory of him staggering up the stairs last night with Silver Annie. All the while, he’d been thinking of this one, wishing it were Jessie he was with, Jessie he was about to make love to. Had he really gone to Silver Annie’s room?

His eyes opened wide. He could see that Jessie wasn’t just a little angry, but one hell of a lot angry. She was standing there with her arms crossed over her chest, her body so stiff he thought she was about to break. She was trying to mask her feelings with contempt, but her eyes were shooting daggers at him.

She knew. Somehow, she knew. And she was furious about it. Chase didn’t know whether to be pleased or worried.

“I, ah, can explain, you know,” he ventured sheepishly.

“Can you?” Jessie said coldly. “Where you were found is explanation in itself, isn’t it?”

“Found? You didn’t come to the saloon, did you? Is that how you know?”

“Yes, I was there. Half the town was there! It will probably make the paper. I can just see the
headlines. ‘Drunk assaulted and robbed in whore’s room. Thief got away with the victim’s pants, since he wasn’t wearing them at the time.’”

Chase’s eyes narrowed. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

“
That
is what happened, Summers. Or don’t you remember getting a knife in your back?”

He tried to turn over, but he couldn’t. “So that’s what hurts so much.”

“I would imagine it does.”

“How bad is it?”

“Doc Meddly said you should stay off your feet for a few days, since you lost so much blood. Other than that, you should heal fine.”

“If I was to have bed rest, what did you drag me out here for?”

“I wasn’t going to stick around town to take care of you! And Meddly had me believing no one else would tend you, considering where you got your wound. I probably could have found someone to look after you, but it was easier just to bring you here. Rachel can do it. So if you have any explaining to do, you can do it to her.”

Chase frowned. “I doubt Rachel would help me now, Jessie. She doesn’t think too kindly of me anymore.”

“You think I do?”

“No, I suppose you don’t,” he sighed. “What were you doing at the saloon, anyway?”

“I went there to see you,” she said stiffly, unsure of herself for the first time.

That was the last thing he expected to hear. “Why?”

“That hardly matters now.”

And with that she left the room, leaving Chase even more befuddled.