Chapter 31
Clint lounged against a sheered boulder and stretched his legs toward the fire. Anyone looking on would see the confident, relaxed leader he wore so well in public. Known throughout the state as the self-assured man who had the world—at least its womenfolk—by the tail made him want to laugh. No one had ever suspected that, instead, self-destruction had been his constant companion since age twelve.
Mindlessly he watched the fire dance, but tonight its familiar crackle didn't soothe him. It reminded him of the night he and Jessie had enjoyed a similar setting—one of only a handful of times in his life he'd felt whole. He glanced over at her dozing profile and wished he could turn back time.
But now, all that was gone.
His stomach hadn't stopped objecting since the moment he'd seen Jessie as white as death on that makeshift stretcher. They weren't far from the place he'd killed the grizzly, and he'd hoped familiar surroundings would trigger a memory in her. It hadn't.
Hearing a rustling in the nearby bushes, Clint snatched up his rifle. Before he could rise to his feet, he caught Johnnie's approaching silhouette in the firelight. The muscles in Clint's back relaxed as he set the rifle back down at arm's length.
Johnnie entered the campsite and glanced at a sleeping Jessica. "I saw tracks," he said, quietly. "We have wolf in the area. We should get settled in for the night and stoke up that fire."
Shoot. One more thing. Clint rolled to his feet, caught Johnnie's eye, and nodded toward a tree a couple feet away. The night was still but for the evening breeze ruffling through the trees. "I've already made their acquaintance—at least the alphas and their pups." He glanced back at the women, satisfied they were okay.
Johnnie's eyes went wide. "When?"
"On my way to Mary's, looking for Jessie—couple days ago. Thought I'd have to shoot them, but a boulder gave way above me and scared them off. They're hungry, confused."
Johnnie lifted his hat and wiped his face with his sleeve, then settled it back before he gave a nod of agreement. "You shot something else before."
"Cougar. At the ridge. Same one I nicked two months ago."
"Settled the score for your gelding, then."
Clint nodded while scanning the area—the meadow, the pines, the splits in the earth. "The quake sure rattled the animals. They've been out of character—before and after. Shot that rogue grizzly on our first trip up."
"Thought so."
"We'll need to take shifts."
When they returned to camp, Clint sat down by Jessie. He glanced around the fire at the others, and caught Johnnie watching their sleeping angel. Clint bristled at the yearning he saw in Johnnie's eyes. He glanced Mary's way. He'd schooled his features, but she knew him too well. She was staring at him with heat in her eyes. Well, that was just too bad. Johnnie shouldn't be having thoughts about his girl. Jessie belonged to him. He didn't know how he'd convince her of that now, but it didn't change the facts. Clint leaned back against the boulder, and openly glared at Johnnie.
The silent group stared into the blazing fire, each held by their own private thoughts.
A piercing cry from Jessie rent the air. Clint all but jumped out of his skin. By the time he realized what he was doing, he was squatting face-to-face with Jessie, grasping her arms. "Jessie. It was only a nightmare."
She looked bewildered.
With a knuckle he tilted her chin up to look at him. "Jessie?"
The firelight danced about her terrified face. Her gaze locked onto Clint's chest and she shivered. He gave her arms a squeeze to get her attention. "Jessie!" She brought her eyes up to his. "There you go. It's okay, little one."
Bleakness dominated her face. He wanted to take her in his arms and crush out the confusion, to make her remember him and what they'd shared. Instead he draped her blanket about her shoulders, then brushed the hair back from her face.
He sat back on his heels and watched her. The strength and spunk that had so captured his attention from the start were gone. And this fragile, scared girl tore at his heart. He felt her trembling hand touch his arm. The pleading in her eyes made him forget all propriety, and the others looking on. He pulled her onto his lap. Her breath stirred at the hollow of his neck.
When finally her shuddering stopped, he loosened his hold and pulled back to search her face. "Better?" She was a frightened little rabbit. He scrambled for a way to distract her. "Do you want something to eat?"
She let out a shaky breath. He watched while she pulled herself together, a semblance of her gumption returning, and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Okay," Jessie said.
Though she had agreed, he sensed her trepidation, and knew he should release her from his lap. But, he couldn't seem to obey his good sense. Instead he handed her a piece of jerky. "It's not like your suppers, but it's all we have right now."
She tilted her head up to him, her eyes huge. "I cook?"
For a lengthy moment he allowed his gaze to roam over her face—along her hairline, cheeks, chin, up to her supple lips. He fought the overwhelming urge to lean in and kiss that delightful mouth. The urge nearly won over, so before he did anything stupid he nodded and gave her a grin.
Her smile dropped, and her eyes grew distant.
He tensed. "What is it? Are you remembering something?"
"Your smile . . ." She shook her head. "I don't know . . ."
He grinned bigger. "Thank God!"
"Oh . . . do you know Him?"
"Who?"
"God."
"I—well . . . I'd like to think I do." What he did know was that God likely didn't want him. Not after the way he'd lived. Not when God had people like Jessie and Mary and Roy to choose from.
"I may not remember much, but . . . you'd know if you were a Christian."
He nodded. "I believe in God. I may have run from Him for most of my life, but during the earthquake, He and I came to a sort of . . . well, an understanding."
A quick glance told him Mary, Johnnie, and Rose Marie watched him intently. Uncomfortable with their scrutiny, he settled Jessica onto the blanket and rested his back against the boulder.
This time it was Jessica who leaned toward him. She planted her forearms on her crossed legs and bit her lip with a smile. "Do you know who Jesus is?"
He chuckled, remembering her innocent expressions and questions—the way she would blurt out everything on her mind. Oh, how he'd missed that.
Rose Marie bounded to her feet just then. All eyes turned toward her. The evening breeze caught up her blonde locks in an otherworldly swirl about her as she glowered. She turned on her heels and dashed out of the campsite. As he watched the beauty's retreating back, Clint was reminded matters were not going to be easy to settle between him and Jessie concerning Rose Marie. What was she going to think of him when her memories returned?
He looked back at Jessie. "Yes, little one, I know who Jesus is. I had the privilege of hearing all about Him when you nursed me back to health."
"Oh. I'm a nurse."
"No." His heart sank. "No, you're not. But you helped me get better." He didn't want to talk about that, afraid the conversation would lead to the confusion with Rose Marie. And now was not the time for that particular discussion.
The night was black as soot without a moon of any kind. Clint scanned what he could see of the area, wondering where Rose Marie might have wandered off to. She'd have known better than to go far. At least he hoped so. She wasn't his problem. Yet, he had a sudden irrational need to watch out for her.
Jessie had fallen silent. One glance told him she was deep in thought. It must be horrible for her to wrestle with her own mind, forcing it to divulge secrets.
He laid his hand on her back. She turned her head and gave him a smile that warmed him all the way to his toes.
A loud snap brought Clint's attention to the man across the fire. Frowning, Johnnie had a dry stick in his hands, and with a vengeance, cracked it across his thigh. He picked up another and did it again, dropping the
broken pieces into a pile by the fire. He swung his gaze out to where Rose Marie had disappeared into the night, then back to Clint. "I've been meaning to ask, did you walk the whole way up here?"
Well, that was sure a change of direction. Was Johnnie worried about Rose Marie, or jealous of the smile he'd just gotten from Jessie? Clint shook his head. "Rode the black halfway. Had to leave him before he hurt himself, or me. You know how he hates tight spaces."
"The black?" Jessie asked. "Is that his name?"
Clint turned at the sound of concern in her voice. "How about you name him?"
She flashed him a smile. "I'd love to."
There went the tightness in his chest again. Her genuine enthusiasm so captured him. One of the reasons he'd fallen so hard for her was how much she enjoyed simple things he'd never taken the time to appreciate.
"I'll have to see him first, though. Then I'll know what we should call him."
Clint smiled at the we in that statement. "Sounds like a plan. You'll need to pray that he's still ground tied where I left him."
Thinking of his gelding brought him back to Harper ranch. His gut twisted at the devastation he'd left there. "Listen, Johnnie, Mary, I should warn you what to expect when we get back home." What he'd give to not have to face this. But it was real. "The ranch is pretty broken up. Many were injured, and we lost several good men."
They both spoke at once, so Clint raised a hand. "Hold on. I'll tell you everything."
He spent the rest of the evening telling the gruesome details of the ravaged homestead. He found it difficult beyond words to tell of those who were lost to them. "I still don't know how the others weathered this thing out on the open range. Hopefully there'll be better news from them."
Rose Marie took that moment to re-enter the camp, looking grim. She sat a little ways from them like a child who'd been shunned. He knew that feeling and was irritated with himself for the pang of sympathy he felt for her. "We should call it a night. We have some distance to cover yet, and we'll be carrying Jessie."
Jessie's head snapped up. "Carry me? No. I can walk."
"Oh no you won't." Clint gave her his most intimidating look. But her opposition secretly pleased him.
"No. I couldn't. How embarrassing."
"So, you remember embarrassing, do you?" he teased. "Here's the thing, Jessie. You were hit hard enough to cause unconsciousness for two days. That means we don't risk your exerting yourself at this point, and that's final. "
She sighed heavily. "If you insist."
Clint shook his head and smiled. Trust came so easily for her. She hadn't lost that quality, thank goodness. He might give the illusion of such strength of character. But Jessie? She actually lived it.