Taming of Jessi Rose

  “Awfully quiet,” Preacher said, as he rode slowly at Griffin’s side.

  “That it is,” Griffin replied, eyes cold. He wondered where the folks were who’d yelled out whore on the last visit. Were they too afraid now? Griff hoped so because he planned on taking on the first one who had anything vile to say about Jessi, and he doubted the Twins would show any restraint or mercy, either.

  The Darcy Hotel came into view and as they rode by the large white structure, Griff was pleased to see the wood nailed over the shattered glass. He spotted Minerva and Roscoe standing out front by their carriage on the edge of the street, but Griffin spared them hardly a glance.

  The Clayton party stopped first at the sheriff’s office. Hatcher wasn’t pleased to see them. “What do you want, Blake?”

  “Good morning to you too, Sheriff Hatcher. These are my friends: Neil July, his brother Two Shafts, and Vance Bigelow. You may know Vance as the Preacher.”

  Hatcher stilled. “The bounty hunter?”

  Preacher tipped his black hat. “One and the same. Pleased to meet you. Sheriff.”

  Watching from the doorway, Jessi thought Hatcher seemed even less pleased now.

  “What do you want?”

  “To see your Wanted posters,” Griffin said, “and before you say no, we are here in an official capacity. All of my friends are deputies, too.”

  Hatcher’s jaw tightened. He yanked open a drawer in his desk, reached in, and pulled out a fat stack of posters. He tossed the stack on the desk top. “Here, help yourself,” he told them tightly.

  Griffin said, “Jessi, come and take a look, you’d know the faces.”

  Jessi didn’t recognize anyone in the first five or six that she glanced at. The men were of all races and were wanted for everything from bootlegging to murder. There were a few women, too, and one face vaguely rang a bell. “You know, if this woman weighed about thirty or forty pounds less and changed her hair, this could be Minerva Darcy.”

  Griffin studied the face. He didn’t see the resemblance. “I don’t know, Jessi, I think you’re grasping at straws on that one.”

  Jessi shrugged, but went ahead and read the bulletin anyway. The woman’s name was Eula Grimes. Rhymes with crimes, Jessi thought to herself. Eula was wanted in St. Louis for embezzlement, in Kansas City for counterfeiting, and in Denver for embezzlement and arson. The two embezzlement charges were for marrying men and then disappearing after the wedding. In both cases substantial amounts of money had vanished with her. Jessi still thought she resembled Minerva in an odd sort of way, but Griffin was probably right, she was just grasping at straws.

  The faces on the rest of the warrants weren’t familiar at all.

  “Well, I guess that’s that. None of Darcy’s men are wanted,” Neil noted, his voice tinted with disappointment.

  The sheriff chuckled, “Is that what you were looking for?”

  Griff nodded gravely.

  “Reed Darcy is smart. Do you think he would be stupid enough to hire wanted men?”

  “He’s stupid enough to hire a scalp-lock like Percy West,” Griff tossed back.

  “And stupid enough to think I’m going to marry him,” Jessi cracked.

  By the shocked looks on the faces of the Twins and the Preacher, Jessi assumed Griffin hadn’t told them that part of the story.

  Hatcher told Jessi, “If you did, all of these problems would go away.”

  “No, thank you. I’ve been to hell once. I promised I’d never go back.” She turned to her men. “Are we done here?”

  “I think so,” Griffin said, noting how hard and cold Jessi’s eyes appeared. He knew without asking that the hell she’d referred to had been her time with Calico Bob. “So, Sheriff, are you going to start honoring your badge?”

  “What do you know about honor?” he asked caustically. “When you give up everything you have and possess for the one you love and have her die in your arms, then you can judge my character.”

  Griffin did not back down. “I’ve already walked in those boots, Hatcher. A woman I loved more than life died in my arms when I was ten years old. I dug her grave with my bare hands. You and I are a lot more alike than you know.”

  That said, he then followed Jessi and his friends out the door.

  Jessi made them stop a moment at Gillie’s millinery shop so she could make sure it was still locked up tight. Jessi peered through the windows to see if anything were amiss inside, but everything appeared fine.

  “Where to next?” Griffin asked Jessi.

  “Since our trip to see Hatcher didn’t unearth anything, I suppose we can head back.”

  Griff polled the Twins and Preacher. Preacher saw no reason to stay, but Two Shafts did. “I need some cartridges. What about the mercantile? Do you think the owner will sell me any, now that everyone knows who we are?”

  Jessi said, “I doubt it, but we can always go in and see.”

  People were still standing and staring as Jessi and her men moved down the walk. Once again, Jessi Rose Clayton had become the talk of the town, but as always, she didn’t care.

  The knot of people standing in front of Abe’s door skittered out of the way as Jessi and the men made their approach.

  Neil July cracked sarcastically, “Nothing like scaring a town full of people to start your day.”

  “Behave yourself, little brother,” Two Shafts warned.

  “Yes, mother,” his brother shot back, grinning.

  Inside the store, the obviously terrified Abe Thomas stood behind the counter with a pasted-on smile. “You boys aren’t here to rob me, are you?”

  “No, Abe, they’re not,” Jessi said. “They’re just here to buy.”

  He cast a quick look out of the door. “Uh, now, Miss Jessi, you know I can’t—”

  Griff tossed a box of cartridges on the counter. “Morning, Abe. How are you?”

  Abe’s eyes widened. He stammered, “Uh—uh—”

  Percy West entered the store, flanked by three of his men, and announced, “What he’s trying to say is, he doesn’t do business with the likes of you. Mr. Darcy’s orders.”

  It was quite obvious that Percy had been in a fight. Although Griffin’s face still sported bruises, and the swelling around his left eye had turned a bright, reddish purple, West looked like he’d been wrestling with a bear. His lip was split, both eyes were discolored, and his jaw bore the marks of having been hit by many mighty fists.

  Preacher was at the far end of the store, looking at chaps. Ignoring West, he held up a pair, looked them over critically, then walked them over to the counter. “I’ll have these. How much?”

  Over on the other side of the store Jessi could hear the Terrible Twins engaged in what sounded like an argument. Neil July was saying, “I’ll bet you ten dollars you can’t do it.”

  Two Shafts was weighing the heft of a big bullwhip. “I’ll take that bet.” He then turned to West standing a few feet away and said, “My brother’s betting I can’t take that gun out of your holster with this. I say I can. Hold still.”

  Before West or anyone else could react, the whip uncoiled like a blast of lightning and snaked not around Percy’s gun but around his right ankle. Shafts gave the snake a hard yank and a blink later Percy was flat on his face on the floor. Jessi stood there stunned as did the onlookers peeking in the doorway.

  Two Shafts turned to his brother and volunteered in mock sheepishness, “I guess I’m more out of practice than I thought. Are you okay, Percy?” he asked, recoiling the big whip and placing it back where he’d found it initially.

  West, hand against his busted and bleeding nose, looked absolutely furious as he struggled to his feet.

  Griffin passed him on his way back to the counter and said, “That’s why we don’t take them out much.” He then paused a moment to survey the damage to West’s nose and advised him sagely, “You really ought to have a doc look at that.”

  Jessi stood there trying not to laught out loud. Was this the kind of fun the Twins had been t
alking about? If so, she certainly enjoyed their brand of humor, although she doubted West would agree.

  It’s hard to be intimidating when you’re bleeding like a stuck pig, but West tried his best. Jessi assumed he was voicing some sort of threat, but due to his injury and the hand covering it, she couldn’t understand a word he was saying and evidently no one else could either because Preacher looked back at West and said, “Speak up, man, we can’t understand a word. Two Shafts, apologize again. Maybe that’s what he’s babbling about.”

  “I’m sorry, Percy. I’ll get it right next time.”

  West’s eyes widened visibly. He didn’t look to be wanting a next time. Shooting them all malevolent looks, he left, taking his stunned companions with him.

  A grinning Griff turned back to Abe. “Now, as I was saying, how much for the cartridges?”

  “Darcy will burn me out.”

  “No, he won’t,” Neil July assured the shopkeeper, as he fished some penny candy out of a glass jar. He popped a jaw breaker in his mouth and said, “Mr. Darcy doesn’t want to tangle with us. He likes living too much.”

  Abe looked to Jessi. She could only shrug in reply. Abe was going to have to make up his own mind. He could stand and fight, or he could continue to cower behind his fear.

  “Okay,” he finally said, “I’ll sell you what you want today, but that’s as far as I go.”

  Griff nodded.

  Abe added, “And you’ll have to give me your word that you boys will back me if Darcy finds out.”

  Griffin said, “Just let us know.”

  Their shopping now completed, the Clayton gang mounted up and headed their horses back up the street. In town the whispering and the speculating began as soon as Jessi and her hands rode away.

  The next morning, Jessi awakened at dawn to the smell of bacon frying. In the kitchen she found Neil July alone at the cast-iron wood-burning stove. As Jessi came closer to the stove, she saw that there were biscuits already baked and waiting, coffee brewing, and eggs sitting in a bowl. Since she distinctly remembered him using all the eggs on hand yesterday, she asked him about them.

  “My brother found some this morning,” he explained, as he began cracking the dozen or so white orbs into the bowl.

  Jessi dearly wanted to know if “found” meant the eggs had been purloined from the coops of her neighbors, but she thought it best not to ask.

  “Shafts said the lady was real nice.”

  “Yep, she sure was,” Two Shafts concurred, coming in from the back porch. “I bought them with the gold Cheno gave us. She said her name was Mrs. Cornell. She also said to tell you hello.”

  Jessi stared. “You bought those eggs from Lydia Cornell, and she told you to tell me hello?”

  Jessi could see the Twins staring at her, but for a moment she was speechless. Griffin’s gold notwithstanding, Lydia Cornell would rather be naked in the front pew of the Vale A.M.E. Church than speak to Jessi. “Are you sure she said her name was Cornell?”

  “Yes. You look like you don’t believe me.”

  “I believe you, I just don’t believe Lydia Cornell. She’d rather eat raw pig’s feet than say anything to me.”

  “Well, she was real cheerful.”

  “Was she drunk?”

  “Didn’t smell any liquor on her.”

  Jessi had no way to explain Lydia’s actions and wondered what in the world had come over the gossipy woman.

  Jessi was still trying to figure it out when Griff and Preacher entered the kitchen and said their good mornings. Her mind still churning, she gave them a mumbled reply. She didn’t notice how quiet the kitchen had become until she heard Griff call to her.

  When she looked his way in answer, she saw that all the men were standing around the table waiting, for what she had no idea.

  “We’re waiting on you, boss,” Griff explained. “Neil hates it when his food’s served cold.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. My apologies, Neil.”

  She hastened over to the table. “You could’ve started without me.”

  “No, we couldn’t’ve.” Preacher declared. “Where I was raised, the lady sits first.”

  Jessi almost told him that she wasn’t a lady, but since they were all waiting so patiently for her to take her seat, she kept her sarcasm to herself and sat.

  After the Preacher blessed the food, everyone dug in. They were the most polite bunch of outlaws she’d ever shared a meal with. They said please and thank you, didn’t curse, and didn’t scratch. She was all but certain their manners weren’t this stellar all the time, but she found it oddly pleasing, knowing they were on their best behavior just for her.

  By the time afternoon rolled around, the pleasure had turned into a serious case of irritation. She hadn’t minded them opening the door for her each time she needed to go out or apologizing when a curse flamed the air, or even when Griff volunteered to take on her stable chores, but when Two Shafts refused to let her carry her own saddle the few feet from her mount to the porch, she’d had it. Finding Griffin still in the barn, she told him firmly, “I can carry my own saddle.”

  Setting aside the pitchfork in response to her whirlwind entrance, Griffin, having no idea what she was fuming about, asked, “Does this have anything to do with my making love to you?”

  “What?” Jessi asked, baffled. “No, Griffin it does not.”

  “That’s too bad. Well, go on, then.”

  She shook her head, wondering where all of her steam had gone. “Are you sure?”

  “I sure as hell do want to make love to you.”

  Just a look from his eyes could call up her passion. “You are incorrigible, but then, you’re well aware of that.”

  “Yep.”

  The lie Jessi told about being able to keep a lid on her desire until the Twins and Preacher departed had been just that, a lie. They hadn’t made love since his friends moved in and it already felt as though she and Griffin hadn’t been intimate for months. It also seemed as if her need for him grew stronger with each new sunrise. Who knew that she would want him every hour of every day or long to sneak into his bed at night and let herself be filled with his passion.

  Griff had been spending the last few days wondering if she’d marry him. Not only did he not want to sleep without her, he didn’t want to live without her. He decided he most definitely was in love and had a hard time seeing a future that did not contain her and Joth. He didn’t know what her response would be, but he needed this rawhide woman to make him complete and hoped she shared his feelings. “Marry me, Jessi.”

  Confusion spread across her face. She searched his eyes, then thinking this was another of his jokes, she began to laugh.

  She laughed so hard she had tears in her eyes before she realized she was laughing alone. The pain on his face stopped her heart. “Oh, Griffin, darling, you’re serious? Griffin, I’m sorry.”

  But it was too late, he was already striding out of the barn door.

  “Griffin!”

  Shit! She cursed herself soundly as she took off at a run after him, but by the time she got outside and looked around, he’d grabbed the first available mount and was heading up the road. “Griffin!”

  He did not look back. Dejected, she sank to the porch step and sighed.

  “Where’s he going with my horse?” Two Shafts asked, running out of the house.

  A desolate Jessi didn’t reply because she had no idea where he was going or if he would return.

  The Comanche looked out at the fast-moving horse and said, “If he runs that pony into a gopher hole, I’ll kill him with my bare hands.”

  Neil stepped out onto the porch. “Where’s Cheno going? He’s riding like he’s got fifteen Pinkertons on his back.”

  “No idea,” his brother replied irritatedly, “but that’s my mount he’s on.”

  Jessi remained silent.

  Neil looked down into Jessi’s stricken face. “Something wrong, Miss Clayton?”

  “Yes,” she answered, then got up and went b
ack to the barn to finish up the work still to do.

  Preacher and Neil sought her out in the barn an hour or so later. “He isn’t back,” Neil reported.

  Jessi didn’t like how that made her feel. She focused herself on pitching hay into Buttercup’s empty stall instead.

  “You want to tell us what happened?” Preacher asked.

  “No.”

  “Lover’s quarrel, I assume,” Neil replied.

  Silence.

  “We know Griffin as well as anyone, so if you need advice, we’re the ones to ask.”

  Jessi dearly wanted to talk to someone about this whole thing, but she didn’t know either of them well enough to trust them with her feelings. “Thank you, but it’s between me and Griffin.”

  Neil said softly, “Maybe if he were here it would be, but he isn’t.”

  And it’s all your fault, her inner voice scolded angrily.

  Jessi stopped her pitching. Both men looked so sincerely concerned she felt compelled to bare her soul. “He asked me to marry him.”

  Neil’s eyes widened. “Griffin Blake?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you said no,” the Preacher stated.

  “I didn’t say no, I was too busy laughing.”

  Neil’s eyes widened even further. “You laughed?”

  The despair returned. “I laughed.” Coming to her own defense, she added, “But I thought he was just teasing. You know how he is.”

  “But you laughed?”

  Jessi nodded solemnly.

  Then Neil began to laugh and laugh and laugh. He laughed so loud and long, Jessi thought he was in the throes of a fit. She should’ve known better than to confide in him.

  As he wiped away the tears, he bowed to her and said, “Miss Jessi, you are truly a rare jewel. Women have fought in the streets over his favors—they’ve betrayed their husbands—and the very first time he asks a real woman to marry him, she laughs in his face.”

  “It wasn’t intentional.”

  “I believe you, but this calls for a celebration. Do you have any idea how many women I have lost to him over the years?”