Compromised Cowgirl (21 page)

“I didn’t like the way they looked at me.” She stuck out her chin.

“Three broken noses, one or two unable to stand straight, and a few blackened eyes,” explained Patrick to Ace. “Jessie’s got a mean right hook as well as a fast knee.”

“I don’t expect any black eyes at my wedding,” said Ace. He looked around the ring of faces. “Unless you boys take a while healing after meeting my fists.”

“Nae, ’tis ye who’ll be needing a beefsteak or two over yer eyes.”

“Just make sure to leave that pig sticker of yours at home,” said Sin.

“Pig sticker?” Gillis roared. “I’ll have ye know this is me grandsire’s
claidheamh mór
!”

“Enough! There’ll be nothing but fists,” confirmed Trace. He slid his glance to Ross. “I’ll tell Frank to bring a bigger box to hold your knives this time. He’ll be the ringmaster.”

Gillis warned Ace with his eyes that there’d be further words on the subject of the MacDougal family’s precious heirloom.

“You said something about stew?” reminded Ranger.

Immediately, the men’s focus switched from fighting to food. They joked about Jessie’s cooking, though she could do a better job over a campfire than most of them. It was just that she hated using a kitchen stove because it meant she was confined to the house. Like a wife.

Mrs. Kenrick Langford. How dare they force her to marry just because she finally got to taste what they’d enjoyed for years! She sighed. At least she’d get her horse back.

“To heck with the whole lot of you. I’m going to bed. Alone!”

“Damn right, you will!”

She stuck her tongue out at Trace again. They laughed as she pushed past and stomped toward the barn. She held her back straight though the quilt trailed around her feet.

“You’re going the wrong way,” called Ace.

“I’d rather sleep in the barn than put up with you lot!”

Hearty male laughter excluded her. As always, she was on the outside, looking in. Not strong enough to be a boy, or sweet enough to be a girl. She might be a woman, but she was still the best cowboy on the Double Diamond!

A deep roar of laughter rolled out of the dark. She sighed. Once men got together like this, they didn’t stop for a while. She’d had a long nap, so wouldn’t be able to sleep even if they shut up. She quickly dressed, putting on her corset for riding comfort.

She hadn’t yet met her sisters-in-law, Beth Elliott and Amelia MacDougal. They’d married three men each. Surely they’d have a few ideas on how to keep a husband or three in line. She glanced at the sky. Clear, with enough of a moon. If she saddled up and left immediately she could get to the MacDougal homestead with lots of time to talk before bed. Both women would likely want to know what their men were up to, as well.

Fifteen minutes later she rode out, heading west.

* * * *

Sin, always aware of the woman he considered his near-wife, noted her direction. He spoke quietly to Ace and slipped from the room. She wouldn’t know he followed. She needed to believe she was free, and that marriage would not clip her wings.

He liked her sparkle. He saw the way her nostrils flared when he threatened to spank her. She was tempted, and everyone knew it. That would make sure there weren’t complaints from her brothers later on.

He waited until Jessie settled her ugly white horse in the MacDougal barn and got up her nerve to knock. The door opened and Amelia pulled her in. He snorted a laugh. Beth and Amelia’s husbands might be surprised at what trouble Jessie could get them into. Not that it would bother those wives. From what he’d seen, they were strong and independent. Just like Jessie.

He rode home, anticipating what he’d do with Jessie next time he had her to himself. He unsaddled and joined the crowd. Once the men at the Double Diamond realized their wives weren’t waiting up for them, they set in to some serious talk. They cheered when Ace brought out his last bottle of good whiskey, a sacrifice for the cause of brotherhood. Sin hid his wince, knowing how long it would be before they could afford another bottle.

Chapter Nineteen

“It’s about time!”

Jessie opened her mouth to reply but was hauled into a hug by a slightly taller dark-haired woman. Amelia MacDougal. Jessie returned the hug, more to keep her feet than as a howdy-do. Amelia grabbed her hand and towed her into the kitchen.

“Do you think your baby girl will grow up to look like Jessie, Beth?”

A tall blonde woman sitting in a rocking chair nursed a baby in the corner. The hefty baby stopped sucking for a moment, decided Jessie wasn’t worth wasting effort over, and went back to work. Beth wore a plain blue dress and apron, her hair tied up like the way Jessie had to wear it in
Virginia
. She smiled down at her baby, who returned the grin.

Jessie’s stomach contracted. There was her nightmare. Stuck inside, waiting for a husband who was out having fun. She might want the baby and the fun, but not the husband.

“First I have to have a baby girl,” said Beth. “Just because Simon insists that’s what he wants, doesn’t mean he’s going to get it.” She nodded gracefully to Jessie. “We’re so pleased to finally meet you. The fact that there are no men around to interrupt makes it even better. If you’re here, does that mean you’re marrying Mr. Langford, and they’ll be celebrating all night?”

Perhaps the heat of the kitchen after the cold ride, the shock of meeting her nightmare head on, whatever it was, Jessie had to fight to keep upright as her head spun. The walls throbbed, in and out, squeezing all the breath out of her. Hands pulled her forward and pressed her into a chair. She sagged, bending forward and hugging her stomach.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, rocking back and forth. Bodies moved around, and light voices chatted quietly. She let the sounds sink into her as if from far away. She remembered…

It wasn’t this kitchen, but one almost the same. Mama rocked back and forth, singing quietly as she fed Patrick. Jessie was a good girl. Yesterday she kept Ben and Ranger outside while Mama birthed her new baby.

Outside, Trace, Simon, and Jack laughed as they played a boy’s running game. Even Ben and Ranger could play though they were a year younger than she was. But she couldn’t keep up because her skirts got caught between her legs and tripped her.

She had as many brothers as the fingers on one hand. She prayed hard every day, morning and night, for God to bring her a sister. She promised she’d always be a good girl if God made Mama’s baby a girl.

But God sent Patrick instead. Another brother. That meant God didn’t want her to be a good girl. She couldn’t be bad, because it made Mama cry. And whoever made Mama cry, got a whupping.

Through the window she heard her hero, Trace, yell that he was first, again. She loved his voice, especially when he sang to her when she was scared. He was always a good boy. If God didn’t want her to be a good girl, she’d be like Trace.

The memory faded. She heard two women chatting quietly nearby. Beth and Amelia. The next time she put on a dress was for Louisa’s wedding. That brought lusting eyes and Fin’s attack. She was forced to wear them in
Virginia
, but never without a knife or three strapped to her body.

No matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t a man like Trace, strong and independent. She was female. Men liked women weak and dependent. The laws were made to keep them that way. First by their fathers, then their husbands. She was smarter than Fin or Hugh, but she didn’t have a cock between her legs. A woman’s brain meant nothing. Only her ability to feed, clothe, and have sex with a man, and then raise his children. Not hers, as a woman didn’t even have the right to her own body, much less what she brought forth from it.

When she married Ace, strong, confident cowboy Jessie Elliott would disappear. Mrs. Kenrick Langford, who didn’t even have a name of her own, would take over.

“Oh, Mama, if only you’d lived,” she whispered.

She crossed her arms over her knees. She fought it as long as she could, but tears leaked out. She snuffled. Someone crouched beside her and rubbed her back, just like Mama used to do. Something broke inside her, and everything fell out.

* * * *

Beth murmured quiet words as Jessie sobbed. Having enjoyed independence for a few days before being forced to marry Trace, her own eyes teared up in remembrance for what Jessie believed she had lost.

“She’s crying as if her life is over,” murmured Amelia.

“It is,” replied Beth quietly. “Ranger said she had to be tough and strong to survive under Finan MacDougal’s hand. As long as she followed his orders, she could pretty much do what she wanted. She loved to be outdoors. When she completed her studies in
Virginia
she was finally free. Ranger said she expected to be his partner, living like a cowboy for the rest of her life.” Beth looked down at the sobbing woman. “I expect that dream was all that kept her going. And now it’s gone.”

Amelia poured hot water into an enamel bowl and set it on the table. She placed her precious rose-scented soap and a clean flannel beside it. “We have to show her that being a wife isn’t a type of living death.”

Beth stayed near as Jessie’s sobs slowed. Every couple of breaths came with a shudder. Finally, she breathed almost normally. Beth patted her shoulder and moved away to give her space.

“When you’re ready, wash your face and we’ll have a glass of cordial,” said Beth.

“I thought most women offer a cup of tea when someone breaks down,” croaked Jessie.

“Beth and I are not ‘most women,’ and neither are you.” Amelia pressed a handkerchief into Jessie’s hand. She took the cordial out from behind a pile of baby diapers and poured three equal glasses.

“I’m a damn good cowboy,” said Jessie.

Beth noted she blew her nose quietly, unlike her brothers. Jessie may fight it, but she was a feminine woman. She just hadn’t had a chance to find that out. She was raised like her brothers and then treated as a ranch hand in
Texas
. Then she had to learn to survive in the excruciatingly proper Virginian society, following rules that used to make Beth scream inside her head. Jessie needed to find herself. She couldn’t do it surrounded by testosterone-charged men butting heads over her.

“I can dress up pretty and flutter my fan like a lady, pretending I don’t have anything as vulgar as a brain.” Jessie sat up and glared at them. “But I can’t be a wife. I hate being inside all day. I want to have control over my life, not bow down to my husband as if he’s the master of my life, just because he has a cock and I don’t.”

Beth held back a smile at Jessie’s stubborn lower lip. She’d seen the same look on James, though he was only six months old.

“Actually, you’ll have three cocks bending down to you,” said Amelia. “If that’s what you want. Blackcurrant cordial?”

Jessie lifted her red-splotched face. She nodded her thanks and took a sip. Beth laughed when she spluttered.

“This is nothing like the cordial they serve out East!”

“No one makes cordial like Rowena Jones,” said Amelia reverently. “She’s gone back East but passed on her secrets to us. One of them is the proportion of alcohol to fruit, as in very high.”

Beth lifted her glass in a toast. Amelia followed. They waited until Jessie lifted hers as well.

“Together we are stronger than all nine of our men. The law might be on their side, but we control the home.”

“And the bed,” added Amelia.

They clinked glasses and turned to Jessie. She did the same and finished her glass. Amelia topped them all off. Jessie gulped the second down. Beth nodded and Amelia filled Jessie’s glass again. In another ten minutes or so, Jessie would be far more relaxed. She would answer questions from her heart. Questions that needed answering.

“I didn’t want to marry either,” said Beth. “But Frank Chambers locked me in jail.”

“He took her boots because she hoofed Big Joe between the legs,” said Amelia. “Joe didn’t like it when Beth refused his suit. Mayor Orville Rivers said Beth had to marry by
midnight
. Old Walt Chamberlain was the only man with enough gumption to stand up to Big Joe and put his name forward.”

“Charlie, the deputy, had opened the cell door and was attacking me when this tall, handsome man with a broken voice rescued me,” continued Beth. “He kissed me, and I was lost. That night he showed me why a woman wants to be married. I found out the next day he had two other reasons, Simon and Jack!”

“My older sister, Prudence, was married to Gillis,” said Amelia. “After I got these burns, no man would court me.” She tilted her head to show Jessie the scars.

“That’s nothing,” said Jessie. “Did you want to marry?”

“No, but Prue thought I would be happy with Nevin. She knew she wasn’t going to live long after her baby was born, and begged me to come raise Hope. When my father died, it was either sign the wedding contract Gillis sent or have my horrid cousin lock me in the attic because I was so ugly. So I came to Tanner’s Ford with Nevin’s ring on my finger.”

“But, you’re married to Ross.” Jessie frowned in confusion.

“Yes, but I didn’t know that until the next morning. By then I’d fallen for Ross. Since
Nev
was supposed to be my husband, and he looks so much like Ross, it was easy to fall for him as well. Because Gil was mourning my sister, it took a while to get him to realize that life must go on. ”