Brave the Wild Wind

Chapter 9

JESSIE had no trouble waking up early. It was still dark, and she lit her lamp to get ready. She dressed with care, choosing her softest buckskin pants, a light cream color, and a matching vest set with silver conchas down each side. Silver chains held the vest together. A black silk shirt completed the outfit. Before she left her room, she did something she’d almost never done before. She opened the chest under her bed and took out a bottle of jasmine perfume, and applied just a touch behind each ear. Now, what will he think of that? She smiled to herself.

Kate was in the kitchen, and she served Jessie steak and eggs as soon as she sat down at the table. Kate sniffed at the flowery scent coming from Jessie and raised a brow, but made no comment. Jessie stared after her, grinning. Of course Kate wouldn’t say anything, she never did.

Then Jessie frowned, looking at Kate’s slumped shoulders. “Why don’t you go back to bed after you serve Mr. Summers his breakfast, Kate? You’re looking tired,” Jessie said. “Rachel can see to herself.”

“I do not mind.” Kate spoke softly. “And Mr. Summers has already eaten.”

That surprised Jessie. She wouldn’t have expected him to be up so early. She finished eating quickly and hurried to the stable with the cold lunch Kate had prepared. Chase was talking to Jeb, his horse ready to go. She greeted him with a smile, determined to start the day out right, and he returned it more than generously.

She was pleased by the admiring way Chase looked her over, watching closely as she saddled and mounted. She had never been so conscious of her own movements as she was just then. It was exciting, this game. Could she hold his interest long enough to make him admit she wasn’t a child, a brat?

The sky was growing pink as they rode out, Jessie leading the way out of the valley. The trail was still in shadow. As soon as the sun was up, they rode side by side, but they didn’t talk. It was not a leisurely ride. Jessie needed to reach town by early afternoon, and she kept them at a steady pace, even breaking into a gallop on the plains.

Five hours later, they stopped at the little creek she always rested by when she went to Cheyenne. It was a nice spot, tree-shaded, level all the way to the water, beautiful with red and gold autumn leaves. It was safe, too, because the land all around them was flat. A stranger’s approach could be seen right away.

They saw to their horses first, then sat down under the trees to share a loaf of bread, sliced beef, and cheese. Jessie washed up when she’d finished eating and leaned back against her saddle to rest for a while. Chase, still eating, sat near her.

Jessie put her arms behind her head, forcing the brim of her black felt hat over her eyes. She raised one knee and lazily moved it from side to side so he’d know she wasn’t sleeping. The position thrust her breasts forward and drew attention to the flatness of her belly, as she’d intended. His eyes were on her, and she kept the hat over her face, allowing him full freedom to look.

Jessie’s voice was startlingly loud when she asked, “How long have you known Rachel, Mr. Summers?”

He sighed. “If you’re going to start to get to know me, don’t you think it’s time you called me Chase?”

“I suppose so.”

She didn’t see him grin. “I’ve known your mother for about ten years.”

Jessie stiffened. Ten years ago Rachel had left Thomas Blair. Jessie had been eight. She didn’t realize that Chase could only have been about fifteen or sixteen ten years ago. So she immediately assumed that Chase had been Rachel’s lover just after Rachel left Thomas.

“And do you still love her?” Jessie asked tightly.

There was a pause.

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

Jessie changed her tone, trying to make light of it, as if she didn’t care one way or another. “You’re one of her men, aren’t you?”

Chase took a deep breath. “Hold on, kid. Is that what you’ve been thinking?”

Jessie sat up then and faced him squarely. “You came running when she called, didn’t you?”

He laughed at her hard, accusing look. “You’ve got a dirty mind, Jessie. Or is it that you just think the worst of your mother all the time?”

“You haven’t answered my question,” she said stubbornly.

He shrugged. “I suppose I do love her, as much as I can love any woman.”

That stopped Jessie. It took her a while to decide what she ought to say next. “Sounds like you don’t like women very much.”

“Now you’ve got me all wrong. I like all women. It’s just that settling for one in particular isn’t necessary.”

“You like to spread yourself around?” she said nastily.

“You could say that.” He grinned. “But only because I’ve never found a woman I could bear staying around for any length of time. Once they think they have you hooked, the romance is over and the pettiness begins, the nagging, the jealousy. That’s the time to move on.”

“Are you trying to tell me all women are like that?” Jessie asked quietly.

“Of course not. There are all kinds back East, but you have to understand that certain, well, types come west: those already married, their daughters looking to get married, and women who pretend they’re not interested until they’re asked.”

“This latter group of women includes saloon and dancehall girls, I take it?”

“They are the most fun,” he said, knowing he was in dangerous territory.

“Whores, in other words?”

“Now I wouldn’t call them that,” he said indignantly.

“Is that how you met Rachel?” she sneered.

He frowned, annoyed. “Obviously no one’s told you, so I might as well. Rachel was alone, starving, and obviously pregnant when my stepfather Jonathan Ewing brought her home.”

“Your stepfather?”

“That surprises you?”

Jessie was a good deal more than surprised. She had thought Ewing was Billy’s father, but obviously Will Phengle was. Did Billy know that? And then it came to her that Rachel was thirty-four now. Ten years ago, at twenty-four, she would have been a lot older than Chase. So they probably hadn’t had an affair.

“Where was your mother?” Jessie asked.

“She had died not long before.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said flatly.

There was obviously bitterness there, but Jessie didn’t want to know about it. She had enough bitterness of her own.

“So your stepfather married Rachel, even with her carrying another man’s child?”

“Because of that child,” Chase replied curtly. Good heavens, Jessie thought, what was going on? “The bastard waited to marry her till after she’d given birth to a son. I’ve no doubt he would have kicked her out if the baby had been a girl.”

Jessie gasped. “Another man just like Thomas Blair! And I thought he was one of a kind.”

“Well, there was a reason. Your father could have children. Jonathan Ewing couldn’t. He was a rich man and wanted a son to take over his small empire. It was the only reason he married my mother. He didn’t love her, he just wanted me. And she didn’t care about anything except his wealth. Well, I cared all right. I hated his guts.” He was silent, then went ahead.

“I was old enough to understand his motives, old enough to resent his high-handedness. He thought wealth could buy him anything. I wasn’t willing to accept him, because I already had a father somewhere.

So Ewing and I had a long, drawn-out battle. It never ended. Rachel made it easier, though, in the last year I was there. She was kind. She cared about me, and she was a good buffer between us. She helped me then. Do you see now why I want to return the favor?”

Jessie was silent. His childhood had been awful, fighting a father, losing a mother. But his earlier confession showed him to be a philandering bastard nonetheless.

“You don’t really know Rachel,” Jessie said.

“I think I know her better—” He stopped, staring into the distance behind her. “Someone seems awfully curious about us.”

“What?”

“One of your friendly Indians, no doubt.”

Jessie swung around quickly and followed his gaze. An Indian sat on a spotted pony a good distance away. He just sat there, staring toward them. Was it White Thunder? No, he would have come forward to greet her. Jessie got up and rummaged through her saddlebags, got her field glasses, and turned them on the Indian.

She lowered her glasses after a moment and said, “Now why would he be here, do you suppose?”

“A reservation Indian?” Chase asked.

She glanced at him and shook her head. “All Indians are reservation Indians to you, aren’t they? God, but you’re a hardhead. I tried to explain to you... Oh, what’s the difference!”

Chase’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying we’re in danger?”

“I’m in no danger, but I don’t know about you,” she replied cruelly. “Look,” he said impatiently, “will you explain?”

“That’s a Sioux warrior out there. They don’t leave their territory unless it’s for a good reason, and they don’t sit and watch you without a reason, either.”

“You think there might be more of them?”

Jessie shook her head. “I don’t think so. When I met Little Hawk last week, he was alone.”

“You met him last week?” Chase echoed.

She turned away to put her field glasses back, delighted by the confusion she was causing him. “He shared my food and camp one night. He wasn’t very friendly about it. He was quite arrogant, in fact. But that’s often their way.” And then she grinned at Chase. “Actually, he did want to be friendly with me in one sense, but I said no.”

Chase managed to conceal his disbelief. “So he wanted you? I suppose that’s why he’s here now.”

Jessie looked at him sharply, but his expression revealed none of what he was thinking. “I can’t imagine what he’s doing out there, but I’m not conceited enough to think he would come looking for me.”

“Well, just in case he did, why don’t we show him you’re not available?”

Before she caught on, Chase pulled her into his arms, and his mouth came down on hers. The contact was as jolting as being knocked off a horse. She was stunned, leaning back against his arms, letting herself succumb to the pressure of his lips. But even as she came to her senses, she didn’t move. She liked the feel and taste of him, the heady sensation overcoming her. She’d certainly never been kissed like that before, and she realized it was because he knew what he was doing.

Why, it was experience, of course! Chase knew women very well, she reminded herself. Even as Jessie became indignant, however, she couldn’t quite bring herself to pull away.

But they had both forgotten Little Hawk. Chase released Jessie as soon as he heard the horse galloping toward them. In a second, the Indian was leaping off his horse. Chase didn’t even have time to raise his hands in defense before Little Hawk, flying through the air, caught him at the throat and threw him to the ground.

Jessie stared, wide-eyed. She had never seen such a graceful leap from a galloping horse. But why wasn’t Chase getting up to fight? He wasn’t moving. Little Hawk pulled out his knife.

“No!” she shouted at him. “Little Hawk!”

She ran forward, getting there just as he reached Chase, and stepped between them. She and Little Hawk stared at each other for several moments. Finally he put his knife away and looked down at Chase. He spoke angrily, then fired rapid signs at her.

She was confused, interpreting as best she could. “You want to know what he is to me? But I don’t see—”

She stopped, remembering that he couldn’t understand her. “Maybe you’re just crazy,” she muttered. “I can’t explain... He means nothing to me.”

“Then why did you kiss him?”

Jessie gasped. “Why, you bastard!” she cried. “You knew English all the time. You let me rack my brains to try to remember sign language, so— Oh! When I think how frightened I was, and all you had to do was tell—”

“You talk too much, woman,” Little Hawk grunted. “Tell me why you kissed this man.”

“I didn’t. He did the kissing, and he did it so you would go away; There was no other reason for it, since he doesn’t like me and I can’t stand him. And why the hell am I explaining this to you? Why did you attack him?”

“Did you want his attention?”

“No, but—”

Little Hawk didn’t stay to listen, but went to his horse. He mounted and came back, sitting looking down at her.

“White Thunder has returned to his winter camp,” he said casually.

“So you do know him?”

“I have made his acquaintance since I met you. He tells me you have no man, only your father.”

“My father recently died.”

“Then you have no one?”

“I need no one,” she answered, exasperated.

Little Hawk smiled, surprising her yet again. “We will meet again, Looks Like Woman.”

“Damn!” she swore, turning back to Chase as Little Hawk rode away. He was lying still but breathing normally. She examined his head for damage and found a thick lump. She went to the creek, filled her hat with water, and threw the water in his face.

He came up sputtering and groaning, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Did that sonofabitch attack me?” Chase asked, feeling his head. He winced as he found the tender bump.

“He could have killed you,” Jessie said harshly. “You’re not much of a fighter.”

He frowned. “What are you so riled about? Did you have to shoot him?”

“No, I didn’t have to shoot him. And I wouldn’t trade his life for yours, anyway.”

Her venom stung him. “You really hate me, don’t you?”

“Does it show?”

She moved away to saddle her horse. He was okay. She didn’t have to tend to him anymore.

With care for every movement, Chase went to his own horse to saddle up. “Why did he attack me? Do you know?” he asked.

“Figure it out for yourself, tenderfoot.”

“Damn it!” he swore. “Is it too much to ask for a little kindness from you? I’m the one who got hurt, you know.”

“And do you know why?” Jessie sneered. “Because of your showing off, that’s why.”

He looked at her thoughtfully. “Is that why you’re so angry? Because I kissed you?”

She didn’t answer. She silently mounted and rode off, leaving him to follow if he could. Chase climbed into the saddle, his head throbbing. He wasn’t sure anymore why he had kissed her, but it had been a stupid thing to do. He would make sure he was never tempted to do it again, ever.