Page 12 of Brave the Wild Wind


  “You’re a gambler!” Jessie realized finally. “My God! Of all the shiftless, lazy things!”

  Chase chuckled at her contempt. “It’s a living. I can take it or leave it. It’s made traveling easy. I just happen to have uncommon luck at cards. Why shouldn’t I take advantage of it?”

  She calmed down a little. “Can you really make a living at gambling?”

  “Enough to live quite comfortably in the good hotels,” he admitted.

  “But what kind of a life is that?”

  That hit a sore spot. “Let’s just say, a life with no ties. Now it’s my turn to ask a few questions, don’t you think?”

  Jessie shrugged, reaching for the last biscuit. “What do you want to know?”

  “You said you’ve only been happy with your Indian friends. Why is that?”

  “They let me be myself.”

  “I saw you looking and acting like one of them. You call that being yourself?”

  “I looked like a girl, didn’t I?” Jessie threw back at him.

  “You looked like an Indian.”

  “But a girl,” she persisted.

  “Yes, of course, but what has that—”

  “It’s the only place I can be a girl—what I am. My father never let me, you see. He burned all the clothes I came here with and never let me buy a dress. Dresses weren’t appropriate for the things I had to learn to do. Nothing could remind him I was a girl.”

  Chase hissed. “I thought you dressed like that by choice.”

  “Hardly.”

  “But your father’s dead now.”

  “Yes,” Jessie replied without thinking. “But my mother is here.”

  “But she doesn’t approve of the way you dress and act. You must know that.” And then he whistled softly. “Yes, of course you know it. I see.”

  “It’s none of your business,” Jessie snapped.

  “Anytime I hit a touchy subject, it’s none of my business.” He sighed. “I’m not judging you, Jessie. I don’t care how you dress. You looked mighty pretty, though, in that Indian dress,” he said nicely, trying to cool her temper.

  But Jessie wasn’t having any of it. She got up, her eyes flaring. “I cooked, now you can clean up. I’ll be back.”

  He sat up straight. “Where are you going?”

  “Out back to wash.”

  But before she could leave, he was up and facing her. “What did you tell Little Hawk about marrying him? You did give him an answer, didn’t you?”

  “If you must know, I refused him. I won’t share the man I settle for. Little Hawk already has a wife.”

  Chase let that sink in. “And if he didn’t?”

  “I probably would have agreed.”

  She went outside, and Chase stared at the closed door for a long time.

  Sometime later, Jessie came in shaking her wet hair. It was loose and as black and glossy as sable. Without a glance in his direction, she walked to her saddlebags on the foot of her cot, got a brush, and sat down cross-legged on the shaggy fur by the fire.

  Chase watched her as she began running the brush through her hair, but then he turned away, feeling edgy. He moved to his own cot, only a few feet from hers. He stared at the narrow thing, looked at hers, and realized it would be easy to push the two together. The thought made him edgier.

  “Thanks for cleaning up the mess,” she said suddenly.

  “Thanks for making dinner,” he returned.

  They fell silent. She turned back to face the fire, giving him her profile. Chase couldn’t take his eyes off her. Absently, he began to unbutton his shirt. She was raising her hair to the heat, shaking it, swaying it, then brushing it. He became mesmerized by that floating black hair. It was so shiny, reflecting the fire. And when she leaned back, tilting her head back to shake her hair, the smooth contour of her throat enraptured him.

  Chase didn’t know what he intended when he got up and started toward Jessie. He knelt behind her and gathered her hair in his hands, pressing his lips to the side of her neck. She tried to pull away from him, and he came to his senses and let her go.

  Jessie scrambled to her knees to face him. “What—?”

  “I want to make love to you.”

  His eyes were smoldering as they caressed her face, her neck, her hair. All she could think of was that other night when he’d looked at her the same way. Funny, but that was all she could think of. Jessie moved toward him and let him gather her into his arms. One hand entwined in her hair, the other held her lower back, pressing her close to him. His mouth captured hers in a kiss that inflamed her, and it went on and on until she lost all sensation but that. His lips moved to her neck, and she groaned with the tingling they caused. He lowered her to the rug, and she tried to pull him down on top of her, but he held back, shrugging out of his shirt first. She devoured him with her eyes, watching the hard muscles that played under his skin, such darkly tanned skin. She ran her fingers through the hair on his chest, over those muscles that fascinated her so, down those strong arms.

  Chase was watching her watch him. It excited him until he was so hard inside his pants that it was painful, and he quickly removed them.

  Jessie reached out and touched the thick, hard shaft that stood so proud. He groaned, and she wrapped her arms around his hips, pressing her cheek against his hard belly. He jerked her upward, fastening his mouth on hers again savagely. She dug her fingers into his hair, and he undid her buttons, quickly removing her shirt. There was no bashfulness as she shed the rest of her clothes. There was only the heat of his eyes, and then his hot hands as he touched each place she bared.

  When she was as naked as he was, she leaned back, ready to receive him. He knelt between her legs, but he didn’t give her what she craved, not yet. He leaned forward, running his hands down her sides, over her hips. When he laid his cheek against her belly, snuggling there, hugging her to him, she knew what he had felt when she’d done the same thing. It was unbearable.

  “You’re so beautiful, Jessie.”

  She believed him. She felt worshiped. She felt completely woman.

  Chase kissed the inside of her thigh. Her legs were exquisite, not at all as he’d expected. The muscles were there, but her legs were soft and supple when she relaxed.

  He slid his hands up to her breasts. They were so soft, so full, the nipples hard and pointed. He tasted them, licking her until she cried, “No more!”

  Her fingers dug into his hair, and she pulled him up. Her mouth fastened to his with such urgency that he was lost in her. She arched to meet him, molding her skin to his wherever she could and he entered her. She wrapped her legs around him, and he sank deeply into her. “Oh, yes! Jessie…Jessie.”

  She exploded in a burst of ecstatic throbbing. He had not moved once after entering her, and did not need to. Her fulfillment coming so quickly was enough to drive him over the brink, and he spilled his seed into her, his throbbing making her own pleasure go on and on.

  Jessie floated off to sleep. Chase got up to fetch a blanket to cover them, then snuggled down next to her and slept a deep sated sleep.

  Chapter 21

  JESSIE woke first. She understood what had happened, got up quickly, and silently gathered her things.

  She pushed Blackstar to his limit, riding not to the ranch but to the range, wanting to throw herself into hard work so she wouldn’t have to think. How had it happened? She could have stopped it. It wasn’t as if he’d forced her. She had wanted him. But why? Damn!

  It was quite late when Chase woke, and it didn’t take long for him to see that there was no trace of Jessie in the cabin. Damn all independent women, he swore, feeling as though he’d been taken advantage of.

  His irritation increased as he rode back to the ranch, thankful that he knew the way, at least. He was fed up with having this one particular woman turn him inside out. He didn’t act the same when he was with her, couldn’t even think straight when she was near him. He would tell Rachel what she needed to be aware of, give Jessie her fa
ther’s promissory note, and light out.

  When Chase entered the house, Rachel was in the parlor. She was sitting in a rocker, crocheting, looking fetching and demure in a gown of moss green with black lace. He remembered the Ewing household, how soothing it had been to sit and watch her crocheting or knitting, or arranging flowers. Gazing on Rachel’s beauty eased his troubles, always had. Without Jessie on his mind, it might still have worked.

  “Is she here?” he asked.

  “No. A young man, Blue, rode in for supplies about noon,” she explained. “He told Jeb she was out on the range working.”

  Chase sat down heavily and sighed. “I might have known she’d get right back in the thick of things. Are they still rounding up the herd?”

  “Yes. Jeb says it’ll only be a few more days before they’re through. He’s going to town tomorrow in fact to get the supplies they’ll need for the drive.” She looked back to her lap as if she weren’t going to say any more, but she added softly, “Chase? She wasn’t really with Indians, was she?”

  He wondered how she knew he’d found Jessie, then decided to skip it.

  “Actually, Rachel, she’s been visiting these Indians for about eight years.”

  “Then it’s true!”

  “You haven’t heard the worst. I found her with the Cheyenne. They’re friendly with her, but other whites are not welcome in their territory. I nearly got killed, in fact. My horse was stolen, and I had to fight to get him back. I was kept tied up for half a day, and if Jessie hadn’t told them she knew me, I’d have been tortured, maybe killed. That’s the kind of company she keeps. Nice, isn’t it?”

  Rachel stared at him, knowing he had more to say.

  “The closest friend your daughter has is a half-breed Cheyenne called White Thunder. They’re so close she bathes naked in a creek with him standing a few yards away.”

  “I don’t believe it.” Rachel was shaking her head.

  “I saw them. And I still haven’t gotten to the worst. She has a suitor, a Sioux warrior. He wants to marry her, and the only reason she refused him is that he has a wife. She said as much! She claims the only place she’s found happiness is with the Indians. Who knows? The next warrior who asks for her might not already have a wife. You just might find yourself with an Indian for a son-in-law, Rachel.”

  She was so stunned she couldn’t speak. Finally she said, “What am I going to do?”

  “You’re her mother,” Chase replied angrily, “not to mention her father’s choice of guardian. You’ve got the power to control her. Do it. Stop letting her do as she pleases.”

  “But how?” Rachel implored.

  “How the hell should I know?” he snapped, then relented. “Oh, Rachel, stop it, please. You’ll think of something. But you’ve got to stop putting me in the middle of it. I’ve done what you asked, and I’m lighting out of here in the morning.”

  “But, Chase—”

  “You’re not talking me into staying here any longer. I checked on Bowdre, and he’s just what you thought he was. But he no longer has any right to bother Jessie,” he said proudly.

  “Why not?” she cried.

  “I played cards with him.” He paused. “I won the note.”

  She gasped. “You won the note? What did Jessie say?”

  “She doesn’t know yet, but I’ll give her the note before I leave. If there’s any more trouble with Bowdre, it will be trouble for the sheriff to handle. I won the note fairly. Bowdre’s got no further claim. And I’m through here.”

  “Of course. It is selfish of me to try to keep you if you want to go. Chase,” she said softly, “thank you.”

  Chase grinned despite himself. “Now don’t try your tactics on me, lady. They won’t work.”

  “I’m sorry,” Rachel said sincerely. “It’s just that I feel so helpless when it comes to my own daughter. You don’t know how much she hates me, Chase. If I told her to stay away from fire, she would walk into one just to defy me.”

  “Why does she hate you, Rachel?” he asked quietly.

  She looked away, saying evasively, “I told you. Her father taught her to.”

  “But why?”

  “I used to live here, you know. Oh, not in this house. There was only a small, three-room—”

  “I know. Jessie told me her father built this house just because you could never live in it.”

  “Did he? Well, I don’t doubt it.” She was silent for a long time before she went on. “I came home here one night, and he beat me, then threw me out.”

  “Why?”

  “He accused me of being unfaithful. Called me a whore,” she added distastefully. “But he never gave me a chance to defend myself. He beat me so badly I nearly died. I would have if old Jeb hadn’t found me and taken me to the doctor at Ft. Laramie.”

  “Does Jessie know that?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think so. I gather that she feels I deserted her. Thomas might have told her that. I wouldn’t put anything past a man who would make his daughter believe her mother was a whore! He was so spiteful over the years, never allowing me to see her. Yes, I don’t doubt that he told her I deserted her.”

  “When Ewing found you, you had just come from here?” Chase asked thoughtfully.

  “Yes.”

  Chase whistled softly. “The boy is his, isn’t he? Billy is Thomas Blair’s son!” Rachel wouldn’t answer or look at him, but Chase pressed her. “You never told him, did you?”

  “Thomas had already taken one child from me,” Rachel said defensively. “I wasn’t going to let him have Billy, too. Besides, he never would have believed Billy was his.”

  “But why haven’t you told Jessie?”

  “She wouldn’t believe me, either, Chase. She doesn’t believe anything I tell her. I think she would rather hate me. It’s easier for her that way. She’s afraid to care about me, afraid she’ll be hurt again. When I think of how she must have been hurt by all of this, my heart bleeds for her. But I can’t reach her if she won’t let me.”

  Chase was thoughtful. What Thomas had done to Jessie was unnatural. It was an outrage. But damn it, it just wasn’t his concern—it wasn’t!

  “I’m not going to get involved in this, Rachel. This is between you and Jessie.”

  “I know.” She smiled in understanding. “And don’t worry about it. I’ll work it out somehow. I’ve involved you in my daughter’s affairs enough as it is.”

  God, if she only knew how involved he’d become, he thought.

  Chapter 22

  RACHEL waited for Jessie in the kitchen that night. Kate had gone to sleep. Chase had gone to his room after dinner, and Rachel had put Billy to bed.

  Jessie came in late. She had washed up at the stable, but her clothes were filthy. She used her hat to whack some of the dust off before she entered the kitchen. When she saw Rachel sitting at the table, she scowled.

  “I’ve kept your dinner warm,” Rachel said casually.

  Jessie stared at her. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Have you eaten already?”

  “No.”

  “Then sit down and eat.” Rachel’s voice was firmer. “I want to talk to you, anyway.”

  Rachel got up to make Jessie a plate, and Jessie didn’t say anything more. She was hungry, after all, and too tired to argue.

  She pulled out a chair and plopped down at the table, her legs spread on each side of the chair as though in a saddle. She leaned back, one arm hooked over the back of the chair.

  “Do you do that just to annoy me?” Rachel asked quietly as she put the plate in front of Jessie.

  “What?”

  “Sit like that.”

  “What’s wrong with the way I sit?” Jessie demanded belligerently.

  “If you can ask that, then you would benefit from a few lessons in feminine deportment.”

  “From who? You?”

  There was such derision in Jessie’s voice that Rachel gasped. “Do you think this is acceptable behavior for a young woman?”


  “What the hell is the difference?” Jessie countered. “I live in my own world. I’m not exactly a social butterfly, now am I?”

  “You’re not alone here, however,” Rachel pointed out. “You have a guest. What do you think a man of Mr. Summers’s sophistication thinks of such uncouth behavior?”

  “I don’t give a good God—”

  “Jessica!”

  “Well, I don’t,” Jessie insisted. Then she acquiesced. “I haven’t forgotten the first eight years of my life, Rachel. I can conduct myself fittingly if the situation warrants it.”

  “Then for heaven’s sake, why don’t you?” Rachel asked in exasperation.

  “To impress a gambler? Why should I?”

  “For my sake.”

  Jessie didn’t respond.

  “This is not what I wanted to talk to you about, though,” Rachel continued.

  Jessie sat up to start eating. “I’m all talked out.”

  “You will spare me a few more minutes.”

  Jessie raised her brow at the firm tone. She was surprised, and a bit curious.

  “I’m here. Talk. I just hope this isn’t going to be boring.”

  “I promise you will not be bored with what I have to say. You may disagree perhaps, but—”

  “Get to it, Rachel.”

  The older woman drew herself up. “Very well, I will come directly to the point. You are not to go off on your own to visit your Indian friends again.”

  Rachel braced herself for an explosion, but there wasn’t one. Jessie stared blankly at her, as though waiting to hear more.

  At last Jessie asked, “Is that all you have to say?”

  Rachel was amazed. She wasn’t putting up a fight. “Well, actually, I had my reasons for insisting on this if you wanted to hear them. But since you are going to be reasonable, I suppose it won’t be necessary to get into all that.”

  “Wouldn’t matter, anyway,” Jessie said offhandedly. “You can give all the orders you like, Rachel. I do what I want.”