Brave the Wild Wind (2 page)

1873, Wyoming Territory
.

B
LUE Parker saw her coming a mile away, trotting along on that big-boned Appaloosa she’d come home with last year. A mean-tempered horse if there ever was one. But then, Jessica Blair was pretty feisty, too. Oh, not always. Sometimes she was the sweetest lady, a kindhearted angel. She had a way of bringing out a man’s protective instincts, turning a man’s heart clear inside out.

Blue’s heart had been lost the very first time she’d smiled at him, flashing her lovely white teeth in a warm grin. Two years ago it’d been, the day he’d come to work for her father, signing on as an extra hand for the fall roundup. He’d stayed on after the roundup, and he’d come to know Jessie well, working alongside her. He’d come to love her—come to hate her at times, too, the times when she’d close up to him and everyone else. Or when she’d fight with her father and take it out on anyone close at hand. She could be cruel then, though Blue doubted it
was ever intentional. Her bitterness sometimes made her lash out, that was all. Jessica Blair had not had an easy life. He sure wanted to make it easier for her, but when he’d gotten up the nerve to ask her hand in marriage, she’d thought he was joking.

She was drawing closer, and she spotted Blue and waved. He held his breath, hoping she would stop. He’d seen her so seldom lately. Ever since her father had died she’d stopped working on the range…until last week, when
they
had arrived. Blue had never seen her so mad. She’d stormed out of the house and nearly killed her horse riding him so hard.

Jessie stopped, leaning forward in the saddle, resting her arms on the horn. She gave Blue a half-grin. “Jeb spotted some mavericks by the creek south of here yesterday. How about giving me a hand with them, Blue?”

She knew what his answer would be, and as he nodded, his face lighting up with pleasure, her grin widened. She was feeling reckless today. She had passed several other hands but hadn’t asked them for help, wanting to find Blue instead.

Full of daring, she challenged, “I’ll race you there, and you’ll owe me a kiss if I win.”

“You’re on, gal!”

The creek was only a few miles away. Of course Jessie won. Even if Blue’s sorrel had been as good as Blackstar, Blue wouldn’t have let him win.

Jessie had given the race her all, letting out some of the tension coiled inside her in an ever-tightening knot. Winded, she dismounted and
fell into the high grass along the creek bed, laughing. Blue was there a moment later to forfeit his kiss, a forfeit that couldn’t have made him gladder.

This is what Jessie had wanted all along, this and more she told herself rebelliously. Blue’s kissing was nice. But then, she’d known it would be because he’d kissed her once before, in the spring, and she’d liked it. It had been her first kiss. Other men wanted to kiss her, she knew that, but she was the boss’s daughter, and they were afraid of both her quick temper and his anger. So none of them dared. But Blue had dared. She hadn’t minded at all.

He was a fine-looking man, Blue Parker, with his golden hair and brown eyes, deeply expressive eyes that told her how much he liked her. Most men looked at her the way Blue did, even though her femininity was hidden beneath the male attire her father had insisted she wear.

Her father. Her mood plummeted with thoughts of him.

Just months ago she had been despondent over how alone she was in the world. Yet now she wasn’t alone anymore, and she hated that even worse. Whatever had possessed her father to write the letter that had brought
them
to the ranch? She had seen the letter, and she knew her father’s handwriting well enough. But why had he done it?

The inconceivability of Thomas Blair asking for help from the person he hated above all others! Hadn’t Jessie known that hatred for the last ten years? Hadn’t she learned to hate, too, because of his hating?

But her father
had
written that letter. And then he had died, and the letter had been delivered as his will directed. They had come then, and put an end to Jessie’s newfound freedom. And she couldn’t do anything about it, for her father had arranged it.

It was wholly unjust! Jessie didn’t need a guardian. After all, her father had made certain she could take care of herself. She had learned to hunt, to ride—to shoot better than most men! She knew all the aspects of ranching and could, in fact, run the ranch just as well as her father had run it.

Blue was sitting a little way off, knowing she needed to think. She was remembering the first eight years of her life, before her father took her out of boarding school and brought her to his ranch. He’d forced her to understand the truth about her mother, but she had still loved him even so. Perhaps she had never stopped loving him, even when she hated him. Hadn’t she grieved horribly when he died? Hadn’t she wanted to kill the man who shot him? But, still, there had been the realization that his death meant her freedom. It was not the way she had hoped to win it, but she had, nonetheless, the chance to be what she really was—not what Thomas Blair had made her into. Now freedom was being denied her
again
.

She had to admit to herself that, suddenly, what she had always wanted was taking second place to her desire to shock them, to show them what Thomas had made of her. She wanted
her
to feel bad, to feel guilty, to believe Jessica wild and immoral. To that end, Jessie had hidden all
the beautiful dresses she had only just brought home, all the perfume and ribbons and jewelry she had finally been able to buy for herself. And she had sought out Blue, wanting him to make love to her so that
she
would find out and be shocked.

Thinking about it brought her mind back to Blue. He had crept closer, and as she turned to him he kissed her again, urgently this time. Her blue cotton shirt seemed to open all by itself while they kissed, and she was startled to feel his hand touching her breasts. Should she stop him?

The sound of a man clearing his throat saved Jessie from having to stop Blue. She was grateful, but she realized how this would look to the hired hand who had come upon them. She prayed it was only Jeb, who would understand.

Cautiously, she looked over Blue’s shoulder, then felt heat rushing to her face. He was a stranger, the man on the beautiful palomino horse. The man was looking down at them with outrageous amusement in every line of his chiseled dark face. He was young and,
damn
, the handsomest man she had ever seen. She was unreasonably mortified. Oh, why wouldn’t he stop staring?

Blue started to get up, terribly embarrassed, but Jessie grabbed on to his shirt, giving him a furious look. He had nearly revealed her state of undress to the intruder. Blue’s color heightened, and he grinned sheepishly. Jessie continued to glare at him while she pulled her shirt together. Done, she pushed at him to get up, and
they both scrambled to their feet, Blue turning to face the man while Jessie hid behind him.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the man said in a deep voice that clearly indicated he wasn’t sorry at all but found the situation highly entertaining. “I could sure use a little help, so I stopped to talk to you.”

“What kind of help?” Blue asked.

“I’m looking for the Rocky Valley and a Mrs. Ewing. They told me in Cheyenne I would find the ranch after a day’s ride north, but I had no luck yesterday or today. Could you tell me if I’m heading in the right direction?”

“You, ouch—!”

“—are trespassing, mister,” Jessie finished for Blue after pinching him into silence. She stepped out from behind him, her embarrassment gone as anger took hold. “And you’re a long way from the Rocky Valley.”

Chase Summers eyed the girl standing before him so belligerently. He was taken aback by her sudden hostility. After the situation he’d found her in, he hadn’t expected her to be quite so young. She looked fourteen or fifteen, just a kid, young enough to get away with wearing pants. An older girl wouldn’t dare dress that way. And the man looked to be in his early twenties, too old to be taking advantage of a child.

But it was none of Chase’s business. His expression didn’t change, not even when the girl’s blue-green eyes shot daggers at him. Damn pretty she was, and those unusual eyes were stunning.

“But—” Blue began, but she jumped behind him once more, pinching him again.

“I didn’t know I was trespassing,” Chase offered. “If you’ll just point me in the right direction, I’ll move on.”

“Just keep riding north, mister,” Jessie answered, and warned sharply, “and don’t come back this way. We don’t like strangers crossing our land.”

“I’ll remember that,” Chase replied. Then he nodded thanks and crossed the creek, riding on.

Jessie stared after him, glaring at his back for some time before she sensed Blue staring at her in the same way. His expression was a mix of confusion and anger, and she quickly looked away. Reaching down for her gun belt, she strapped it on, refusing to look at him.

“Just a minute, gal.” Blue caught her arm when she picked up her hat and started for her horse. “What the hell was that all about?”

She tried to shrug it off. “I don’t like strangers.”

“What’s that got to do with lying?” he demanded.

Jessie jerked her arm out of his grasp and faced him, her eyes flashing with all the fury pent up inside her. Blue nearly forgot his anger then, for she was something to behold, her eyes lit up with blue-green fire, breasts heaving, her long braid flung over her shoulder, the braid end touching her narrow hip. Her right hand rested on her gun, and although he doubted she would really shoot him, the threat was there, and he didn’t try to grab her again.

“Jessie, I don’t understand. If you’ll just tell me what’s made you so angry?”

“Everything!” she snapped. “You! Him!”

“I know what I did, but—”

“What you did you’d better never try again, Blue Parker!”

He frowned. She didn’t mean that. He wasn’t about to give her up, anyway. But it would be a good idea to get her mind on something else for a while.

“Well, what’d he do? Why’d you lie to him?”

“You heard who he was looking for.”

“So?”

“You think I can’t guess why he’s looking for her?”

Blue followed her drift. “You don’t know anything for sure.”

Jessie drew herself up. “Don’t I? He was too good-looking. He’s got to be one of her lovers, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let him come to my ranch and carry on with her under my roof!”

“And just what’re you gonna do when he finds out you lied to him and comes back?”

Jessie was too mad to give it any thought. “Who’s to say he’ll be back? He’s probably from the city, like she is. He probably couldn’t find his way out of a hole in the ground,” she added contemptuously. “Didn’t you see how packed his saddlebags were? He’s the type who can’t survive without store-bought goods. If he reaches Fort Laramie or gets back to Cheyenne, he won’t be eager to venture out on the range again, where the nearest store is days away. He’ll go back where he came from and wait for
her to come to him—which can’t happen soon enough for me.”

Blue shook his head. “You sure do hate her.”

“Yes, I hate her!”

“It ain’t natural, Jessie,” he said softly. “She’s your mother.”

“She’s not!” Jessie stepped back as if he had struck her. “She’s not! My
mother
wouldn’t have deserted me. She wouldn’t have let Thomas Blair turn me into the son he wanted. My mother died here. That woman is nothing but a whore. She never gave a damn about me.”

“Maybe you’re just hurting, Jessie,” he said kindly.

Jessie wanted to cry. Hurting? How many times had she cried herself to sleep because there was no one there to soften the pain of her life, a life she hated. Hadn’t it all been because of her mother? Every single thing her father did was to spite the whore, as he’d called her mother. He had denied Jessie boarding school because her mother had wanted her to be educated. He had denied her anything feminine because her mother had wanted her to be a lady. He had made her what she was because he knew her mother would hate her. Irrationally, he had gone into debt to build a house fit for a queen, done it solely because it was what her mother would have loved and could never have.

“I passed the point of being hurt long ago, Blue,” Jessie said in a quiet voice. “I haven’t needed her for a long time, and I certainly don’t need her now.”

Before her tears spilled, Jessie ran to her
horse and took off. She didn’t mind crying, she just didn’t want anyone to see her at it. She rode south, away from the ranch, away from the cause of her tears.

W
HEN Jessie rode into the yard, the sun was setting, the sky to the west streaked with dark reds and violets beyond the mountains. Light streamed onto the porch at the front of the sprawling ranch house, so she rode to the back, where she could enter the house through the kitchen and not be seen. She dismounted and sent Blackstar off to the stable with a soft word and a pat on his backside. He would go directly to his stall and wait for her to come and rub him down. She was famished, had been for hours, and just wanted a little something to take the edge off her hunger before she bedded her horse down for the night.

Blackstar wouldn’t mind waiting just a few more minutes. Blackstar never balked at anything Jessie did. He would nip at other people and even try to get in a few good kicks once in a while, but he was an angel with Jessie. White Thunder had known he would be gentle with her when he gave the stallion to her. White Thunder had a way with horses that no one could match, and he had raised Blackstar from a colt, raising him just for Jessie. She had never guessed that secret, though. All the time she
had thought she was just helping her friend train a horse.

It was such a generous gift. Horses were a sign of wealth among the Indians, and it wasn’t as if White Thunder had very many horses. But White Thunder was like that. Blackstar was not the only gift he had given her in the years he had been her friend. He was her closest friend really, next to old Jeb. Blackstar meant the world to her because of their friendship. Just thinking about that, watching the horse trot off toward the stable, she almost forgot about food. But her stomach reminded her, and she stepped into the darkened kitchen and closed the door quietly behind her.

The smells of dinner lingered in the large room, and Jessie looked forward to coming back later and having a big plate of Kate’s stew. She scanned the counters for something to pick on quickly, and when she spotted a plate of fresh sourdough bread, she grinned. But then she heard her mother’s voice coming from the front room down the hall, and the smile died. She tore off a chunk of bread and started to leave. Then she heard another voice.

She stopped where she was, staring at the open door leading to the hall. She couldn’t have heard right. It wasn’t
that
voice, was it? She edged closer to the door, then crept a few feet down the hall, pausing by her bedroom. She could hear the voice distinctly, and her face flamed with color as she recalled the scene. Damn and double damn, to be caught in a lie!

She inched her way closer to the large main room, having to tiptoe because of her riding
boots with their two-inch heels. Thank goodness she never wore spurs on Blackstar! She poked her head around the corner until she could see the whole room, the room filled with all the rich things that had put Thomas Blair into debt, debts Jessie had inherited.

Sitting side by side on the thickly padded sofa, their backs to Jessie, were her mother and the stranger. Jessie stared at them for a moment. He had removed his hat, revealing dark chestnut hair that curled on his neck.

“I can’t imagine who the girl could be, Chase,” Rachel was saying. “But I’ve only been here a week, and I haven’t met any of Jessica’s neighbors yet.”

“If they’re all as hostile as that promiscuous chit, then you would do well not to bother. If I hadn’t met up with one of the ranch hands and gotten turned back in the right direction, I’d be sleeping out on the range again. One night of that was enough, thank you.”

Rachel laughed. “I take it you’ve been sticking pretty close to civilization since I last saw you.”

“If you can call the cow towns of Kansas civilization.” Chase shook his head. “But any hotel room and any hot meal beat a lonely camp fire any day.”

“Well, I’m glad you got here. When I sent those telegrams, I wasn’t sure they’d get to you. You’ve always moved around so much. And, anyway, I wasn’t sure you would come.”

“Didn’t I say if you ever needed me just to send word?”

“I know. But neither of us thought I would take you up on it. I didn’t, anyway.”

“You don’t like to ask for help.” It was a statement.

“How well you know me.” Rachel laughed softly, and the sound grated on Jessie’s nerves.

“So what’s the problem, lady?” Chase asked.

Jessie stiffened. She didn’t like the tender way he spoke.

“I’m not really sure, Chase,” Rachel was saying hesitantly. “At least…it’s not anything specific yet. What I mean is, I may have asked for your help unnecessarily. I mean…”

“Hold on,” Chase said abruptly. “It’s not like you to beat around the bush, Rachel.”

“It’s just that I would feel terrible if I’d brought you up here for nothing.”

“You can forget that right now. Whether there is anything to what’s troubling you or not, I was glad to come. There was nothing holding me in Abilene, and it was time I moved on, anyway. Let’s just call this a visit that was long overdue, and if there is anything I
can
do to assist you while I’m here, fine.”

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

“Never mind about that. Just tell me what the trouble is.”

“It has to do with the man who killed Thomas Blair.”

“Blair was your first husband?”

“Yes.”

“Who killed him?”

“The man is called Laton Bowdre. I met him in Cheyenne a couple of weeks ago, before I came out here to the ranch. I had gone to see Mr.
Crawley at the bank, the man who sent Thomas’s letter to me. I thought he could explain to me why Thomas had changed his mind after all these years.”

“Didn’t the letter explain it?”

“Not really.”

“And did the banker understand?”

“No. He did tell me, though, that Thomas had a considerable debt with the bank.”

“You think that’s why he made you Jessica’s guardian, because he didn’t think she could handle it alone?”

“It’s possible,” Rachel said thoughtfully. “I do know he wouldn’t want her to lose this ranch. That’s all I’m sure of.”

“Christ,” Chase growled. “How are you supposed to help her? You don’t know anything about ranching.”

“Oh, Thomas didn’t expect me to run the ranch, only to see that no harm comes to Jessica before she’s twenty, or married, whichever comes first. He felt she wasn’t ready to pull her own reins, as he put it, that she would need guidance, a restraining hand, for the next few years. I’m quite sure I wouldn’t have gotten that letter if he’d died two years from now. Mr. Crawley said the letter had been at the bank for the last four years. Thomas was worried about Jessica because she’s so young. As for the ranch, Jessica runs it—and from what I’ve seen, she knows what she’s doing.”

“You’re not serious!”

“I only wish I weren’t.” Rachel’s voice held a touch of bitterness. “But Thomas had ten years
to work with her, to teach her all there is to ranching. And worse.”

“Worse?”

“You’ll see what I mean when you meet her. But as I was saying, I met Mr. Bowdre at the bank. Mr. Crawley introduced us. Of course he expressed his regrets—most insincerely, I might add—and explained what had happened. It seems there was a card game in one of the saloons, and Thomas bet a ridiculous amount, sure he had the winning hand. But he didn’t, and he accused Bowdre of cheating. Thomas went for his gun, but Bowdre got to his gun first and shot Thomas.”

“What does the sheriff say?”

“He says that’s the truth. There were a dozen witnesses, and I talked to several of them. They all say the same thing. It was a fair fight. However, the question of whether Laton Bowdre was cheating was never really answered, and it’s too late now. The problem is, he still holds Thomas’s marker. A gambling debt is as good as gold in these parts.”

“As a dabbler at cards”—he grinned sardonically—“I can’t say I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Well, that’s what’s so awful. He wants his money, and Jessica doesn’t have it. I really think he would have demanded the ranch if she hadn’t confronted him about the marker in front of witnesses, forcing him to give her time to pay the debt.”

“How much time?”

“Three months.”

“And what does Jessica say about this?”

“She’s not concerned. She says she’ll take care of Bowdre after the fall roundup. She has contracts for the ranch beef with several of the mining camps up north.”

“Then what’s the problem, Rachel?”

“It’s this Laton Bowdre. Sounds like a sly weasel—at least, that’s the impression I got.” Rachel worried at her lip, then confessed, “I really don’t think he wants the money, Chase. I think he wants this ranch.”

“So you think he might do something to stop Jessica from paying him off?”

“Yes. What he could do, I have no idea. And maybe it’s all my imagination. But I would feel so much better if you would check on him, see what kind of impression you get.”

“Of course,” Chase agreed readily. “But why don’t you just take care of the debt and get it out of the way? You can certainly afford to.”

“You think I don’t want to? I tried to give Jessica the money, but she threw it in my face. She won’t accept anything from me.”

“Why?”

Rachel laughed bitterly. “Her father hated me, and he taught her to hate me, too. And she does it very well.”

There was silence for a moment, and then Chase said, “When do I get to meet this stubborn female?”

Jessie didn’t wait to hear the answer. She moved back up the hall and slipped into her bedroom. She grabbed a few things, then went back to the kitchen and took the whole loaf of bread, leaving the house silently.

She was in a seething rage. How dare they
talk about her? How dare Rachel call in a stranger to mess in her business? Stubborn female? The bastard! Let him go to Cheyenne and snoop around. Let him come back and report to Rachel. Then let him get the hell out of Jessica’s life. But she wouldn’t be around to meet him. She wouldn’t be back until he was gone.