Brave the Wild Wind

  She wanted to laugh. And she nearly did when, at that moment, Chase let out a roaring victory cry and the crowd echoed him. Those who had bet on Chase rushed to congratulate him.

  “He did well,” Little Hawk admitted.

  It was all Jessie could do not to grin. “Yes, he did,” she said solemnly.

  She didn’t know why she was so pleased. Was it only because Chase had vanquished Black Bear Hunter without hurting him?

  “Jessie!” Chase was calling her cheerfully. “Get your gear, lady, we’re going home!”

  Jessie stiffened. “I’m not leaving with you,” she said.

  “But I’m not leaving without you,” he answered firmly, reaching her side and standing there, unmoving.

  “You’d better go,” Jessie said uneasily. He looked so determined.

  “If you don’t come along with me agreeably, I’m going to pick you up and carry you out of here,” Chase announced.

  “They’ll kill you!”

  “Then my death will be on your conscience, won’t it?”

  They both knew she had no choice. She stared at him, wide-eyed, and fumed. “Damn you, I’ll get even with you for this, Chase Summers. You see if I don’t!”

  Chase grinned as he watched her stomp off to the other side of the camp. He turned to fetch his gear and Goldenrod, but he had to pass by Jessie’s two champions. He was in too good a mood to feel intimidated. He stopped for a second, smiling agreeably. “Looks like she’ll be coming home with me, fellows. You see, her mother sent me to get her. She may have put up a fuss about it, but she always makes a fuss about something or other, doesn’t she?”

  He nodded to them politely, then kept on going. White Thunder had to restrain Little Hawk from going after him. Chase chuckled to himself, knowing damned well what was happening behind him without having to look. He didn’t care. Damn, he felt good!

  Chapter 19

  THEY were only three hours on the trail when Little Hawk caught up with them. Jessie heard him calling to her and stopped. Then Chase heard the name being called and grabbed Jessie’s reins. Little Hawk stopped, watching them.

  “So you’re Looks Like Woman?” Chase said.

  “The Indians call me Looks Like Woman,” she said flatly.

  “Your friend said the Sioux was there because of you. Is that true?”

  “Yes. He never left the ranch area, and followed me to the village. He’s asked me to be his wife.”

  Chase stared at her for a few moments, then said, “So he did attack me that day because I kissed you?”

  “Yes, I suppose he did. But I didn’t know that at the time.”

  Chase laughed derisively. “But that’s ridiculous, him wanting to marry you.”

  “Why ridiculous?” she said in a deadly voice.

  “He’s an Indian, for God’s sake!”

  “My closest friend is an Indian,” she said smoothly. “I’ve been visiting him and his people for eight years. I know their culture as well as I do my own. You think I can’t be happy married to an Indian? Well, let me tell you something, Summers. The only place I’ve found any happiness these last ten years was with White Thunder and his family. So don’t tell me his being an Indian should have anything to do with my decision.”

  Chase was left speechless. Little Hawk was watching them, and he could feel it. “What did you tell him?”

  “That, Chase Summers, is none of your business,” Jessie said, yanking her reins away from him. Turning around, she rode straight for Little Hawk.

  They didn’t say anything at first, just stared at each other, Little Hawk searching her eyes, Jessie wishing they were alone.

  At last Little Hawk said, “I did not mean to let you go without speaking to you, but I was angry.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It was not you who caused my anger, but that one. He upsets you.”

  “Do not trouble yourself about him. He’s just a stubborn cuss who does my mother’s bidding.”

  “I do not like it that you ride alone with him. I will ride with you.”

  “No.” She shook her head emphatically. “And have you two battling? No.”

  “If he touches you—”

  “Stop it,” she said quickly. “I can handle that one. I’m armed again, see?” She patted her gun before she added gently, “You have got to stop concerning yourself with me. I will not marry you, Little Hawk, and I will not change my mind about it. So go home to your wife.”

  He avoided replying to that, asking instead, “You will come again to White Thunder’s camp?”

  She frowned at him. “You mustn’t look for me.”

  “Looks Like Woman—”

  “Oh, please, don’t make this so difficult,” she pleaded. “We are not fated to be together. I know it. Ask your medicine man, he will tell you. Do not look for me. My spirit cannot meet yours with ease. You understand, Little Hawk? You are too…too much for me.”

  She turned away then, riding back to Chase. She looked back once to see Little Hawk sitting there, watching her, his expression unreadable. How it hurt her to say those things to him. But it wasn’t to be, and she’d had to stop him from hurting himself more.

  She passed Chase without a word, galloping steadily. She didn’t see the two men staring at each other for a long time before they simultaneously turned away, Little Hawk to the north, Chase to follow her. She could feel Chase’s eyes on her from time to time as they crossed the plains. It was beautiful country. The Big Horn Mountains were directly west, joining many other ranges stretching across the land to form the Rocky Mountains. The Black Hills were to the east. Even the rolling grassland that seemed infinite was beautiful. Trees along creek beds were bursting with brilliant autumn leaves. A slow-moving herd of buffalo seemed from a distance like great-backed turtles.

  Jessie knew this land and loved it. She loved the ranch, too. She had nothing else, really. She certainly didn’t want to live anywhere else. Yet she felt she had reached an impasse in her life. She felt changed, but without a new direction. She felt she needed something, only she didn’t know what that something was.

  They didn’t stop that day, except to water the horses. It was late when they finally came to the creek where Jessie meant to camp. The sun had set, and the moon had yet to rise, but she knew just where to find firewood. She got a fire started before Chase had even unsaddled his horse.

  With Jessie leading the way home, Chase had no recourse but to let her make the decisions. He wouldn’t have thought of asking her to stop sooner. He was drawing on his last reserves, however. The fight with Black Bear Hunter had been a hard contest. Still, he kept silent.

  His cuts were bleeding again. An Indian woman had put salve on them and bandaged him while he was waiting for Jessie that morning, but the cut on his side was bleeding through his shirt and needed tending. He was too tired even to do that. If he could just get his horse rubbed down…

  “Sit down before you fall down!” Jessie commanded in a no-nonsense voice from behind him. “Honestly, if you were this tired you should have said something.”

  He hadn’t known she was watching. “Didn’t want to trouble you,” he offered lamely.

  She sighed as she grabbed some grass and finished rubbing down Goldenrod for him, saying, “There’s food by the fire. White Thunder’s sister prepared it for us. Help yourself.”

  “I think I’ll just get some sleep.”

  “You’ll eat first,” Jessie said firmly. “You’ll need the energy to withstand tomorrow’s ride.”

  Her tone promised that the next day would be another grueling one. “What’s the hurry?” Chase grumbled.

  “I told you. I don’t like your company. The sooner we get back the better.”

  Chase scowled. “Then by all means I’ll eat. We can’t have you fretting over the few extra hours you might have to spend with me.”

  “Thank you.”

  How she drove him with that unbending hostility. Whoever would believe they had shared a night of the m
ost incredible loving he had ever experienced?

  He sat down and picked through the food laid out on a thin hide wrapping. He had eaten several pieces of meat by the time Jessie sat down. She sat next to him, with the food between them. Her expression was as unfriendly as possible.

  “I’m in pain, Jessie,” he ventured.

  “From what?” Her tone was a little less frosty.

  “From this gash in my side.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “I didn’t get a good look at it,” he confessed.

  He managed to get the left sleeve of his jacket off. When it fell back, the blood soaking his shirt became visible. He felt Jessie’s shock and was pleased. Then he looked down at himself and saw the blood ruining a damn good pair of pants.

  Jessie was up instantly, helping him remove his jacket all the way. She went for his shirt next, pulling it out of his pants and over his head. She said nothing until after she had unwrapped the bandage and inspected the wound carefully, making him move closer to the firelight so she could see.

  “It’s not so bad,” she murmured. “All that jarring from the ride kept it from clotting is all.”

  Chase raised his arm to get a better look while she went to the creek for water. It looked bad to him, a good quarter-inch deep and at least ten inches long. Jessie hadn’t been at all squeamish, he reminded himself.

  When she came back, she carefully cleaned the cut. Chase was gazing at her face, the way her brow wrinkled in concentration, the way she chewed at her lower lip. She was too close, and he was beginning to think about things he shouldn’t think about.

  Jessie had to use the same bandage for want of another, but offered, “If you have a change of shirt, I’ll wash this one for you.”

  “In my saddle bag. How about washing my pants, too?”

  “You’ll need your pants for warmth. It’s going to get chilly tonight.”

  “All I need is a blanket and a warm woman.” Chase grinned.

  “All you’ll get is a blanket,” she retorted.

  Chase was grinning when she tossed his clean shirt and a blanket at him before she went back to the creek. She was less hostile, and he was delighted.

  He had the blanket wrapped around his waist and was struggling to get the shirt buttoned when Jessie came back. She finished buttoning it for him, then helped him get his jacket back on. He lay down, and she knelt beside him to straighten the blanket. When she leaned over him, his arm came around her and drew her close. She didn’t think to pull back before it was too late. He whispered, “Thanks,” and then his lips brushed hers lightly. His arm fell away, and his eyes closed. Jessie moved away to settle down a few feet from him. She lay facing him, and for a long while she watched him as he slept.

  Chapter 20

  JESSIE stirred the pot of beans one more time before she brought it to the table. Chase was already helping himself to the hot biscuits and fried rabbit. She’d made a suet pudding for later, just like Jeb’s, with the raisins, nuts, brown sugar, and spices she’d found.

  They were making use of the supply shack on the north range. Jessie had pushed hard, trying to get home before the day was out, but it just hadn’t worked out that way. The sky had clouded up, and it had gotten dark early, with the ranch still three hours away.

  She had kept her distance since that surprising kiss, and he hadn’t made any other overtures. Still, being so near him was disconcerting. She needed a distraction.

  “Where did you learn to handle a knife so well?” Jessie asked tentatively.

  Chase didn’t look up. “San Francisco. I met an old sea captain who taught me a few tricks so I could handle myself on the waterfront. That waterfront wasn’t the most sociable of places at night, or even during the day for that matter.”

  “Why were you there?” Jessie prompted.

  “I worked there for a few years.”

  “Doing what?”

  Chase looked up at last. “My, but you’re full of questions tonight.” He smiled at her.

  “Do you mind?”

  “No, I guess not. I was a dealer in a gambling house. It’s where I got my first taste of gambling.”

  “You like to gamble?”

  “You could say that.”

  “San Francisco is a long way from Chicago. Had you always lived in Chicago before San Francisco?”

  “I was born in New York, but my mother moved to Chicago when I was a baby. She was hiding, really. Her first name was Mary, but she changed the last to Summers. She never did tell me what her real last name was.”

  There was the bitterness in his tone that had been there before when he spoke of his mother. “Hiding from what?” Jessie asked hesitantly.

  “I’m a bastard,” he replied nonchalantly. “She couldn’t bear the shame of it. She never let me forget it, either, or that my father hadn’t wanted her or me. I sometimes wonder, though. When she was drunk, she would let certain things slip that she denied when sober, like the fact that she hadn’t actually seen my father once she knew she was pregnant.”

  “You think maybe he never knew about you?”

  “It’s possible,” he replied. “I mean to find out, someday. But anyway, she brought us to Chicago and started a seamstress shop that did very well. She met Ewing through the shop. I was ten when he started bringing his mistresses there for fancy outfits. He was looking for a respectable wife, one with a child, and the widow Summers seemed ideal. She didn’t love him, though. And it wasn’t as if we needed his wealth, for we were doing fine. But she claimed to love him. That was her excuse, when all she really wanted were the luxuries his wealth could buy.”

  “Was that so wrong? It couldn’t have been easy, raising you alone. Perhaps your bitterness stems from having to share her after all the years when it was only the two of you.”

  “Share her?” Chase said. “I hardly ever saw her. She was always at social functions, on shopping sprees. She turned me over to Ewing completely.”

  “You resented that?”

  “I’ll say! Here’s a perfect stranger treating you like you were born to him, but with an iron hand. Beating you for the slightest wrong, the tiniest assertion of your own will.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I was only under his rule for six years.”

  Jessie knew he was trying to make light of something that held terrible memories. He was frowning at some unbidden memory, and she left him to himself for a while.

  “You left home when you were only sixteen?” she ventured a little later. “Weren’t you frightened? How did you manage, so young?”

  “You could say I joined another family, the Army.”

  “They accepted you that young?”

  Chase grinned. “This was in ’64, Jessie. They were taking anybody then.”

  “Of course,” she gasped. “The War between the States. You joined the North?”

  He nodded. “I signed up for the duration, a green kid learning the hard way how to be a man. I took off for California after that.”

  “Why California?”

  “That’s where my mother met my father.”

  “So you went there to find him?”

  He nodded. “But I didn’t find him. The Silvela ranch was sold when the gold rush started. So many years had passed, there was no one to tell me where the Silvelas had gone, but I figured they went back to Spain.”

  “Your father was a rancher?”

  “It was his uncle’s ranch, according to my mother.”

  “A Spaniard,” she commented thoughtfully. “You must take after him.”

  “I guess so.” Chase smiled lazily. “My mother was a redhead with bright green eyes.”

  “But I gathered she was from New York. What was she doing in California?”

  “The way she told it, her mother had just died. It was only her and her father, and he lived more at sea than at home. He was captain of a tallow ship that made regular runs from the California coast to the East. It was the first time she had ever gone w
ith him, and the Silvelas were one of the rancher families her father dealt with. Apparently Carlos Silvela, young and handsome, swept her off her feet. He did not promise marriage, though.

  “She realized she was pregnant before her father sailed back East, and she told her father. He insisted on marriage, and I’ve heard several versions of what happened then. One was that my mother begged Carlos Silvela to marry her, but he wouldn’t. Another was that the uncle, the head of the clan, refused to give his consent, humiliating my mother by saying an americana was not good enough for his nephew. Then there was my mother’s drunken version, where she swore Carlos loved her and would have married her if he had known.”

  “Don’t you know which is true?”

  “No. But I’ll find out someday.”

  “You’ll have to go to Spain to do that. Why haven’t you gone?”

  Chase shrugged. “It seemed hopeless. I didn’t know where to start. Spain’s a big country. Also, I don’t speak the language.”

  “Spanish isn’t difficult to learn,” she scoffed.

  “I suppose you speak it?”

  “Well…yes,” she admitted.

  Spanish happened to be the only language John Anderson knew besides English, and Jessie had been eager for him to teach her everything he was capable of teaching. But she wasn’t going to explain that to Chase.

  “Why didn’t you learn it, if it would help you find your father?” she pressed.

  “I was too disappointed and angry in not finding my father where I thought he’d be. It had taken me a hell of a long time just to get to California. Then to find I had made the trip for nothing…”

  “So you just gave up?”

  “I was twenty and restless, Jessie. I didn’t have the money to get to Spain, anyway.”

  “That’s when you got a job dealing cards in San Francisco?” she concluded.

  “Yes. I drifted back East after that. Thought I’d see a bit more of this country,” he explained. “I tried life on the Mississippi for a couple of years, but one too many boiler explosions and collisions made the river steamers unappealing. A big game down in Texas drew me there, and then I drifted to Kansas. They have some fancy saloons in the cow towns there, if you don’t mind the wild goings-on at the end of every trail drive.”