Ride With Me (A Quaking Heart Novel - Book One)

  * * *

  Jessica and Walt made it back to the main camp in record time. Jessica sat in paralyzed silence most of the way, with old Walt doing his best to comfort her the only way he knew how, by reminding her that God was in control. She knew who was in control, but her heart was too crushed to listen to reason or to God right now, and it didn't matter that she had no right to feel this way.

  Once Walt pulled the buckboard up to the back porch, Jessica jumped down and dashed straight to her room. She closed the door and fell face first on her bed.

  Hours later there was a rap at the door. Slowly the door opened. Mabel peeked in. "You awake, dearie? I've brought you somethin' to eat."

  "You can come in, Mabel, but I'm not hungry." She just knew Mabel was going to say I told you so. And she'd be right.

  "Do you feel like talkin', sweet girl?" Mabel asked.

  The last thing she wanted to do was talk—to anyone—let alone Mabel. Then again, being addressed as sweet girl warmed her, maybe even enough to take a chance. "We can turn on my lamps if you'd like."

  As soon as the lamps were on, Jessica realized too late that Mabel would see her ravaged eyes. "Oh, you poor dear," Mabel said, as if on cue. "Do you want to tell me what happened up there?"

  Jessica's eyes widened at the motherly compassion she heard. When had that come about?

  "I found Rose Marie and Clint in bed together this morning." Blunt words tumbled out. Hearing them again made her choke up, but she refused to blubber in front of Mabel.

  "Jessica, let's start from the beginnin'. Tell old Mabel about your weeks that led up ta this mornin's indiscretion, okay?"

  Jessica stared at Mabel, surprised by the large word coming from this back country cook, but quickly forgot it for the explanation of the last sixteen days. Speaking of the sweet times with Clint made her weep, and speaking of the stressful times made her weep. But in the end she had managed to get everything said, right up to the time when she and Walt had left.

  Mabel looked strangely contemplative. Jessica awaited the lashing she was sure to get. Then, Mabel said, "Okay. I gotta tell you some stuff about our Clint. He's never been mean-spirited and he's always guarded Mary from his . . . uh . . . ways. He'd have gone outta his way not to do what you said he did in Mary's house—especially with Mary's granddaughter for Pete's sake!"

  Jessica's face flamed. "What are you saying, Mabel? That I didn't see what I saw?"

  "Calm down, missy." Mabel looked her in the eye. "All I'm sayin' is there's a good explanation, and you can take that ta the bank! How well do ya know this here Rosemary or Rose Marie, however you say it? I don't trust her. I didn't like how she acted when Walt brung her here."

  "I don't know her."

  "Well, girlie, how do ya know that Clint wasn't in one of his fevers again, and she tricked him?"

  A disbelieving snort snuck out before Jessica could stop it. "That's a little far-fetched, isn't it, Mabel? I mean, he had his own cot in the kitchen. How did he end up in the bedroom? With her?" She cringed all over again at the memory.

  Mabel patted her hand. "I don't know what happened, but I do know our Clint. He's a good man, Jessica. Doin' that kind a thing just ain't in him. In fact, more than that, I'd bet when he finds out you saw . . . somethin'—I'm not saying what, mind you—he'll die a thousand deaths."

  Jessica heaved a sigh. "I know you love him like a son, Mabel. But I know what I saw. And I know how he reacted when he first met her. And, I know he gave me a good-bye kiss and hug." She blinked and paused for a beat. "He didn't deny it." She tried to catch a good breath. "So what other truth there might be just doesn't matter." All hope drained out of her at her own words. "I need to put this behind me. I'll come help you."

  "No sugar, you won't. You rest. You'll be helping me soon enough."

  Jessica raised her head and caught Mabel's gaze, stunned by her caring.

  "Maybe this isn't the best timing," Mabel said, "but I thought you should know Johnnie is the only cowboy that didn't lose his head over that . . . that . . . hussy."

  "Mabel!" Jessica began to giggle, the grief of the whole situation making her giddy, then downright slap happy. Mabel joined in until they were both laughing so hard they couldn't catch their breath. The laugh felt good. But the ache in Jessica's heart returned full force, and the laughter died off.

  Mabel inched closer, encompassed Jessica in stout arms, and squeezed. Then she rocked to her feet and shuffled to the door.

  Jessica stood on shaky legs. "I'll be down to help you clean up, in a bit. The work will take my mind off things."

  Mabel turned back with a smile so warm and solemn and heartfelt that Jessica actually hummed inside with gratitude. If she could have spoken over her clogged throat, she would have thanked her.

  "Sure ya aren't takin' a shine to Johnnie, dearie? 'Cuz he don't like that Rosemary one bit, and he seems ta be smittin' with you."

  Jessica tried to smile, thinking of Johnnie. Solid Johnnie. Safe Johnnie.