Taming of Jessi Rose (26 page)

Jessi went stock still. “What did the Seminoles do?”

Joth shrugged. “I don't know, but Neil said that after that happened, some of the scouts left the states and went to live in Mexico and they never came back. He said that by 1881, there were no more Seminole scouts.”

Another tragic episode in America's history, Jessi thought to herself. She hoped that the bravery of the scouts would not be lost over time, because without their help the West would not've been settled.

Joth looked up at her and said, “Do you think Señor Cortinas's story will have a happy ending?”

Jessi shrugged. “I hope so, Joth.”

“Me too.”

T
he saloon's repairs were completed a few days later, and Auntie decided to throw a party to celebrate the re-opening. Because of her aversion to Vale's social events, Jessi hadn't planned on attending, but when the Twins told her that Auntie had specifically asked that she be brought along, Jessi decided to rethink her position. After all, she doubted if any of her detractors would attend; helping a fallen woman like Auntie toast the opening of her new saloon might keep them from entering heaven, so Jessi decided she would go.

When the day rolled around, the men went to town early to get their hair cut and while they were away, Jessi hauled in heated water for a bath. Preacher had kindly offered to stay with Joth for the evening and the two were now out hunting rabbits.

After her bath, Jessi took out her new dress and then sat on her bed to open the box she'd received the day after Joth's return from Austin. It too had come from Gillie and had been brought out to the ranch by Doyle. The note on the large box read:
I forgot to give this to you. To be opened only when you wear the dress
.

Of course, Jessi wanted to open the box right then, but she was afraid the all-seeing, all-knowing Gillie would somehow find out, so she'd put it away. As she
opened it now, she stared. Placing her hand over her mouth, she laughed with both delight and shock. Inside was a short, very seductive black corset. Jessi lifted it out and scanned the flared high-cut bottom and the tiny gray roses that decorated the bodice. These were no everyday underthings, they'd been designed to tempt a man's eye. There was a pair of new black stockings, two fancy little garters, a finely made camisole, and a pair of drawers. Gillie had even included new black slippers. A bit stunned by the gift, Jessi found a note on the box's bottom which read:

A shocked Jessi laughed out loud.

Jessi dressed, and once she was done, walked over to view herself in the mirror. She was amazed by her reflection. In the glass stood the woman she used to be, the woman who was fashionable, articulate, and confident—the woman who'd taught sciences at the Miss Paris LaMarr's School for Young Women of Color, and the woman who'd married Evan. In the decade since coming home, this woman had been buried beneath the person she had had to become in order to survive. That woman had had no place on a ranch run by her iron-willed father, or on the road with Bob Winston and his gang. That woman had to be put away in order to preserve her sanity. In its place grew a woman much stronger, more resilient, and far more tenacious than before. Though she might look the same in the mirror, Jessi knew that in reality that woman of a decade ago existed no more.

Jessi turned to view the back of the stylish navy dress.
With its dainty row of buttons down the back and its stovepipe lines, it would be absolutely useless on a cattle drive, but perfect for a social event like Auntie's party. Seeing her all gussied up would undoubtedly give the gossips plenty to talk about, but as always, Jessi didn't care.

“Well, how do I look?” Jessi asked, as she walked into the parlor where the men were waiting. Her short-cropped hair had been dressed and brushed until it shone. In her ears were the gold circlets she always wore. Jessi tried not to smile at the stunned look on Griffin's face.

Joth was staring at her as if he'd never seen her before. “Wow, Aunt Jessi, is that you?”

“No, it's Sam Houston,” Neil cracked with a smile. “You look lovely. Miss Clayton.”

Jessi gave him a pleasant smile. “Thank you, Neil.”

Griff could see Jessi's mouth moving, but he hadn't heard a word she'd said since she'd stepped into the room. He was far too busy staring at her in that dress. She'd always been beautiful in his eyes, even if she did wear nothing but ranch hand attire, but like this, all dressed up, she seemed like another woman altogether. It was as if she'd been transformed into a prim and proper back east lady who carried a reticule instead of a loaded Winchester, a woman he wanted to hustle into the nearest closet and see how long it took him to undo those little jet buttons down the back of her dress. The thought of undressing her and freeing her warm skin to his kisses and his touch made him instantaneously harden with desire.

Looking into her eyes, he announced, “I need to talk to Miss Jessi alone, if I can.”

Surprisingly enough, no one balked. They even took Joth with them, leaving Jessi and Griff alone in the parlor.

“What did you wish to speak with me about?”

“Nothing, really, just wanted to get a good, long look at you up close.”

Jessi now understood what it meant to drown in a man's eyes. She was so far underwater she could hardly breathe. “Is there something wrong with the way I look?”

“Oh, hell no, you look fine-so fine, I should probably warn you to watch your back for the rest of the night.”

“Why?”

“Ambush.”

Jessi's senses flared to life. “You'd ambush a woman in a dress?”

“In a minute.”

“Then I guess I'll have to be careful…”

“Yes, you will…”

“Thanks for the warning,” she said smiling up at him.

“My pleasure.”

Shaken by the force of her own desire, Jessi touched his face softly, briefly, then left the room to join the others.

Griffin went to the door and called Joth.

When the boy entered, he said, “Did you want me for something?”

“Yep, have a seat.”

Joth sat on the big overstuffed sofa and asked, “Am I in trouble?”

Griff chuckled. “No, son. Just need to talk with you about something I'm planning.”

“If it's a train robbery, I don't think my aunt will let me come along.”

Griffin's mustache lifted with his grin. “It's not a train robbery. I want to marry your Aunt Jessi.”

Joth's eyes went wide. “You do?”

“Yep, but I need your permission to court her.”

“Why?”

“Because you're the only male Clayton around here.”

“Oh.”

Griffin thought it time Joth knew how he felt about Jessi, and because Griff had come to care for Joth, the boy's approval meant a lot. “So, what do you think?”

Joth seemed to think a minute, then with very serious eyes asked, “Will you be nice to her?”

Griffin nodded. He knew how much pain Joth carried inside because of the way the townspeople treated Jessi. If Joth had his way, Jessi would never know hurt again, and Griffin wanted that hope to come true too. “Always.”

Joth smiled softly. “Then you have my permission.”

“Thanks, Jotham.”

“You're welcome.”

When it was time to depart, Jessi gave Joth a short lecture on how he was to conduct himself with Preacher while she was away, and then kissed the Preacher's cheek for his generosity.

It embarrassed him and he ducked away, but the gesture seemed to make Neil jealous. “I slave over a hot stove every day, and nobody gives me kisses.”

Jessi went over and kissed the handsome Seminole's dark, bearded cheek. “Better?”

He nodded, pleased.

She swung her attention to his brother. “Do you need one, too?”

“No, ma'am,” he replied, his eyes shining with amusement.

Griff began waving his hand frantically, saying, “I do. I do.”

Jessi rolled her eyes. “I'll meet you gentlemen outside.”

As Griffin slapped the reins across the backs of the
two-horse team, the old wagon began to roll and Jessi waved good-bye to Joth and Preacher. The Twins were on horseback and flanked the old buckboard like an official escort. Jessi could just about imagine the stir they would cause once they arrived. Then she reminded herself that she was coming to town help Auntie open up her newly refurbished place, not to be judged by a bunch of gossips and hypocrites.

She looked over at Griff, decked out so handsomely in a new blue shirt and vest; the trousers looked new, too, as did the string tie. Jessi was of the opinion that Griffin Blake would look handsome wearing a flour sack, and she had to admit, she was looking forward to being ambushed later on.

When they reached town, Neil and Two Shafts rode on ahead, while Griff headed the team toward the livery. Jessi couldn't believe the number and the variety of vehicles clogging the streets: buckboards, carriages, wagons, buggies. She saw some carriages so fancy she knew they couldn't belong to any of her neighbors. As Griff drove slowly through the busy streets, Jessi thought it looked like an old-fashioned Juneteenth celebration. Jessi's assumption that only a handful of folks would come out for this late afternoon event had been a faulty one. With all the goings on, one would think they were celebrating the opening of the new opera house Minerva Darcy kept insisting the town council build.

As the wagon moved past the crowds, Jessi saw the faces of women who'd spat on the walk as she passed, men who had snickered at her mother's funeral. She saw the upright Christian Mary McCoy, who'd told her son Ross that it was perfectly all right to address Joth as a “son of a whore.” These people hadn't been kind to her or her family. Only her love for Auntie could bring her into this nest of vipers.

“Are you ready?” Griffin asked her, after he finally
found a space behind the livery to put the buckboard and pulled back on the brake.

Jessi confessed truthfully, “No, but the sooner I go in. the sooner I can leave and get out of these uncomfortable clothes.”

Jessi had become accustomed to the freedom offered by the denims she usually wore, and this dress, although costly and fashionable, made her feel bound and constricted.

“You don't look uncomfortable.”

“Well, I am. Gillie sent me this damn French underwear. At least the label says it's French, and—”

“French underwear?” Griffin asked, interrupting. “What type of French underwear?”

His eager questioning made her look up. She should've known better than to tell him something so provocative. She smiled. “Never mind. Forget I mentioned it.”

“Aw, Jessi, don't be cruel. What kind?”

Silence.

“At least tell me what color it is.”

“No. Griffin,” she laughed.

“Jessi?”

She silently mouthed the word no, then said aloud, “If you're supposed to be gentleman to my lady, now's the time for you to come around here and help me out of this elegant Texas carriage.”

“I'm going to give you all the help you can stand later, and you can bet the ranch.”

He got down and came around to her side of the board. She placed her hand in his and he assisted her down with all the grace of a Haitian count. “So you aren't going to answer my question?”

“No, Griffin, I am not.” But grinning saucily at up at him, she crooked a finger at him. He leaned down
and she whispered into his ear, “I guess you'll just have to find out for yourself, later.”

She left him standing there with his mouth open as she walked up the street.

He caught up with her immediately and they both laughed. As they approached Auntie's, Jessi could hear the lively piano playing and the loud voices of the celebrants wafting out to the street from inside. Except for the bunting across the door and the newly painted letters on the sign, the facade still looked the same. Inside, however, things had changed. Auntie'd apparently knocked out a wall and expanded the place. The downstairs room appeared to be much larger. Good thing, because the saloon was packed. Jessi, with Griffin right behind her, waded into the press in an effort to find Auntie. Knowing that her neighbors would not be happy to see her, Jessi was determined not to make eye contact with anyone. However, they seemed to have other ideas.

More than a few men and women who hadn't spoken to her in years came up and greeted her as if she'd been magically transformed into someone else. They asked after Joth, her health, and if she thought the area would ever get any rain. One young mother gushed on and on about her son being in Joth's classroom, while another came up and asked if she'd like to have tea sometime next week. Women who'd pointed and whispered at her were now acting nice as pie. Jessi wondered if someone had slipped whiskey into the ladies' punch, because that had to be the only explanation for such amazing behavior.

Someone placed a hold on her arm as she passed one of the new, highly polished tables and she looked down into the dark brooding eyes of Reed Darcy. “Good evening, Jessi. You look lovely. I'd like to introduce you to some friends of mine.”

Jessi scanned the table. Along with Percy West, who
still sported fading bruises, were two White men and one Black. All of the strangers were finely dressed, but Jessi had no desire to meet any friends of Darcy's. “No thanks.”

She moved to step away only to have Reed's hold tighten on her arm.

He told his friends proudly, “See why I want her as my bride? She's a fiery little thing, isn't she?”

Griff told him coolly, “Unless you want to leave this party as a one-armed man, I'd advise you to drop your hand and let her go.”

Reed glanced up at Griffin disdainfully. “Ah yes, the new suitor.” He released his hold. “How're you, Blake?”

“Fine, Darcy, and you?”

“You know you owe me for that window you busted,” he said pleasantly.

“Soon as you pay Jessi for the one your men shot up, I'll pay for yours.”

Darcy looked away. “I have no idea what you're talking about.” Darcy then turned to the men at the table. “This is the man trying to steal away my bride. What she see sees in him is beyond me, but,” and he lifted his glass in a mock toast, “she'll see the light in a few days.”

Jessi saw Percy smile evilly. She had no idea what Reed meant, and at this point, she didn't much care. Ignoring him further, she and Griffin moved on. “Why can't he just be struck by lightning?” she asked tightly.