Love's Rescue (22 page)

Unable to stop crying or to catch her breath, she pressed her face into one hand. With her other hand, she clung to the pommel of her saddle but loosed the reins. Luina wandered a little in confusion, eventually coming to stand near the creek, where she nibbled at young grasses.

Jess felt free—free of the ranch, free to cry out the agony she’d locked inside, and free to cry away the blame she’d unjustly placed on Jake. Lifting her tear-streaked face to the night sky, she yelled, “I’m sorry, God!” She shook her head and quieted. “I’m sorry…for my anger.”

For a long time, she simply grieved. Then, at last, she let out her breath in a shaky sigh, feeling that a tremendous weight had left her. As the minutes passed, something else stole into its place: conviction—the conviction that she was not going to lose anything more and the conviction of what else she needed to do.

Jess looked around to get her bearings. Her mind was fixed: she was going to visit the place where her family was buried. Then she would pay a much needed visit to the import store, for inside the safe in its storeroom lay her last memories of Ambrose—his letters.

Jess gathered the reins and pulled them taut. “Come on, Luina. We’re going to Carson City.”

She started the horse at an easy lope. The air was fresh, cooler than before, and although a cover of clouds veiled the moon, enough starlight fell on the desert floor to light her way for miles.

She let Luina maintain the leisurely pace for more than an hour as she got lost in her musings. All of a sudden, Luina’s head shot up.

Jess’s eyes scanned the night for outlaws, for the cold blue gleam of moonlight on rifle barrels. Wary now, she listened closely. Luina’s mane bristled, and she struggled against the reins in an attempt to run.

She was staring at the mountain.

Jess followed her gaze, watching for shadows of horses or men.

Whatever it was, it was not Cielos.

Jess’s eyes fell on several low, dark forms twenty yards out, lunging toward them through the sage. Densely furred bodies and tails took shape, followed by long-fanged muzzles—wolves.

She stabbed her heels into Luina’s sides, and the horse plunged forward and reared up. Jess grabbed her mane so as not to be tossed off. On the road before them, a wolf snapped its bared teeth. The moment Luina’s hooves met the earth, a second wolf leapt up at them from the side.

Jess gasped as Luina stumbled sideways at the impact. With razor-sharp claws, the wolf raked at Luina’s belly as it fell. Luina bolted—then stumbled.

In desperation, Jess whipped Luina with the reins. She ran, terrified of what might be waiting ahead.

A snarl erupted near Jess’s right boot. Her eyes darted down to glimpse a flash of fangs. The wolf snarled and crouched low, a mad light shining in its eyes.

“No!” Jess shrieked.

The wolf lunged at them.

Luina swung away, her eyes rolling back, white.

Jess looked back. The wolf was keeping pace near Luina’s left flank and three others were loping behind him. They were gaining speed.

From the right came a flash of gray; then there was a tug at Jess’s skirt. Suddenly, a powerful weight was pulling at it, threatening to drag her from the saddle. The sharp sound of fabric tearing split the air.

The wolf fell, a patch of petticoat in its jaws.

Jess’s eyes swept the night for a makeshift weapon—something she could swing at the beasts. Everything lurched as Luina kicked out behind; a wolf yelped, then tumbled away.

Two others were closing in, both attacking from the right. There was another tug at her skirt. More tearing. Then her boot was nearly wrenched from the stirrup.

“Please, Lord…,” she stammered, glancing about in desperation. Two more wolves were following closely behind.

Luina leapt. Without thinking, Jess stood in the stirrups and went with the jump. A fallen tree passed beneath them. Luina hit the ground. The wolves weren’t there.

Her throat tight, Jess glanced back. Immediately, she saw that the wolves’ intentions had changed. No longer were they chasing for sport.

Now they were hunting.

Their heads hung low as the five raced after their prey with single-minded intent. Jess veered closer to the mountain, looking wildly for a place to go up.

There was a snap of jaws, then another. Horrible pain shredded the back of her leg. She felt the wet trickle of her own blood.

BOOM!

Jess cried out as she recognized the beautiful roar of Jake’s gun. “Bennett!”

“Go right!” he shouted.

“I can’t!” she screamed. “There’s—”

BOOM! The wolf’s cry was lost in the discharge of the gun.

Not waiting for a second command, Jess bent low and pulled right. Jake’s revolver barked twice more.

Wolf carcasses tumbled to the ground. The pack was down to one.

Jess came around, heading straight for Jake. He stopped Cielos and took aim.

Several seemingly endless seconds passed. Jess glanced around frantically, looking for the last wolf. She couldn’t see it.

“Why don’t you shoot it?” she screamed.

“It’s straight behind you!”

Unable to bear it any longer, Jess pulled Luina to a stop and ducked.

The wolf drew up alongside her. It leapt.

BOOM!

The echo of the last shot died away in the mountains. Beside her, the wolf lay dead. Jess was breathing almost as hard as Luina.

Jake holstered the gun and galloped toward them, his jaw rigid. Jess braced herself for his anger.

But he only pulled up alongside her, his dark eyes shining with concern as he leaned close to inspect her face, arms, and hands, then passed his hand over her shredded skirt. He looked at her. He was breathing hard, too.

“Did it get you?”

“Yes. My left leg. It feels like someone’s holding a hot iron against it.”

“We best get you back. Can you ride?”

She decided not to argue. “I can ride.” She started to tremble.

Seeing this, Jake jumped down and handed her his reins. He dropped to one knee, pushed her skirt aside, and eased her foot out of the stirrup.

“There’s not much left of your boot,” he said.

“I’ll just have to take the next one out of his hide.” She laughed at her own wry humor until tears rolled down her cheeks. Jake looked up, his brow furrowed with worry.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m shaking, and I’m feeling a bit light-headed. How bad is it?”

Jake removed her boot as carefully as he could, but she hissed in pain when it rubbed against the wound.

“Three cuts. At least one of them will need stitches.”

“That’s nice.”

Jake swiftly removed his bandana, twisting it to form a bandage. He wrapped it snugly around her lower leg and knotted it just above her calf muscle.

“Jess?”

“I don’t feel very well.” That was an understated version of the awful, sickly heat that was swimming through her veins.

Jake stood up. Without another word, he pulled her from her saddle and carried her toward Cielos. The reins fell from her limp hand.

“You still with me, Jess?”

“Uh-huh.”

He looked grim.

In another moment, she was sitting in his saddle and trying hard to stay there.

“I have to get the reins. Can you hold on?”

She couldn’t answer, but she took hold of the pommel. Everything around her swayed and pitched.

There was some movement, then Jake was behind her in the saddle. He pulled her against his warm body, and some of the swaying stilled. Her hat was lifted away. She felt his gloved hand touch her temple lightly, followed by his chin putting gentle pressure on her head.

She fought against the dizziness and pain. She was shaking, cold. “My own fault,” she murmured.

Jake remained quiet.

“Please let me go to Carson City,” she mumbled. “After my cuts heal.”

Jake turned Cielos toward the ranch, leading Luina. After a long pause, he answered. “I want you to think about two things, Jess. One, I want you to hear—really hear—what your heart is saying about this. Two, I want you to listen to what your mind is telling you.”

Jess considered his words as best she could. “My heart wants to be near them—near my memories of my family.” And away from her confusing feelings for him. “It wants to go back.”

“Mm-hmm. And your mind?”

Jess rubbed her forehead and sighed. “There are men between here and Carson City who might want me dead. And since the war continues on, and since townspeople have made up their minds to side with the North, I won’t be able to help run a business there. I’d be burned out or run out of town. Or worse. And Edmund and Miriam could be hurt this time.”

Again, Jake said nothing but left her to sort it out. She grasped a fistful of his shirt, partly to steady herself, partly entertaining the thought of strangling him. She slumped against him.

“How long, Bennett? How long before it will be safe for me to visit the cemetery?”

“I’d give it time for Tom to find those men, and to be sure folks have forgotten the Hales, so you won’t be recognized. Next spring, maybe. You have a job until then. Longer, if you like.”

Jess nodded, struggling to accept what she knew was right. “I’ll stay, then. Until next spring.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Jess.”

“Bennett?” Jess thought her voice sounded sleepy.

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad you came after me. This time,” she added.

Jake chuckled, his chest vibrating gently against her back.

Jess was afraid she was going to be sick. She was so hot…dizzy. She knew she was badly shaken. The wolves…they’d been so close. She could smell them on her. Could feel her blood oozing…

Darkness.

The dark haze hadn’t left her, though the surroundings had become vaguely familiar, and she realized they were nearing the ranch. All at once, Jake was no longer behind her, and then she was in his arms.

She heard the door swing open. “Hold her, my friend,” Lone Wolf said. “I will move this closer to the fire.” A heavy piece of furniture rumbled against the floor, and then she was lowered to the couch. “What has happened?”

“Wolves.” Jake’s voice was quiet, tense.

Jess heard him leave the room, and then she heard movements in the kitchen. The front door must have been open, because several pairs of boots sounded on the porch. One of the ranchmen called out, “Jake?”

“In here.”

Jess tried to pull herself from the cloying haze. Jake was beside her again. Her skirts had been pushed back from her leg injuries. She heard Taggart’s voice. “What’s happened to her?”

A damp cloth was pressed to the back of her calf, and she grunted in pain.

“She’s been bit,” Jake said. “This cut is deep.”

He and Lone Wolf spoke quietly as her calf first felt cold from being drenched, then burned so fiercely that her head cleared a little. “Bennett,” she moaned, trying to pull away from their ministrations.

“It’s whiskey, Jess. We’re cleaning out the bites.”

She pushed herself up on her elbows, then rolled over on her stomach to give them easier access to her wounds.

“Look at her dress.” That was Reese. Jess became aware of the light of several kerosene lamps. She was facing Jake’s desk.

Jake glanced up from where he knelt. “How are you doing, Jess?”

She grunted again while he poured more whiskey over her leg. “Famously.”

“Wolf?” Taggart asked her.

Jess nodded, glancing up to his mop of orange hair and his blue eyes. “Five, but only one took me for mutton.” She hissed when a dry cloth was pressed firmly on the wounds. Her sense of humor was fading fast.

Reese asked, “What did he look like?”

“Like a Yankee in a fur coat.”

“As bad as that, Jess?” Jess didn’t see Jake’s smile, but she heard it in his voice.

She smiled with him. “Well, worse than some, I suppose.” He released her leg, then wrapped a clean towel around it. She could feel fresh blood seeping into the cloth.

“I’ll be right back,” Jake assured her.

Jess glanced at the stairs. Jake took them two at time, then disappeared into the middle room upstairs. He emerged carrying a wooden box, which he set on the table when he came downstairs. Jess leaned up on both elbows, watching as he lifted off the lid and brought out scissors, needle, and thread.

Jess groaned and dropped her forehead to the arm of the sofa. When she lifted her face again, Taggart was staring into it. Without a word, he dragged Jake’s big chair over and settled himself down beside her, taking her slender hand in his rough, brawny one and holding it tight. Jake tied a snug knot in the thread.

His eyes met Jess’s. “This will hurt some,” he warned her.

Jess faced away from him again, clenching her jaw with resolution. “Just get it over with, please.”

Other boots pounded on the porch, then more ranchmen joined the group. Jess felt like a spectacle. My fault, she reminded herself. My own fault.

Lone Wolf looked down at her. “Should I get Red Deer?”

“Is she sleeping?”

“Yes.”

“Then let her sleep.”

Jake began the dreaded process. Jess was careful to let her injured leg lie still while he stitched it, but the other shook almost enough to break the arm of the sofa. When she started to perspire, Jake paused to let her catch her breath. She looked around to notice that Diaz and Doyle had joined the crowd of spectators.

“Doesn’t anybody sleep?” she growled. Then she remembered to ask Diaz about Luina.

Jake had started stitching again.

“She is fine,” Diaz assured her. “Mostly scratches like yours. The wounds are shallow. They will heal.”

Finally, Jake finished. Jess had counted seven stitches—seven in, seven tugs, seven out. After he had knotted and snipped the thread, relief flooded her, followed all too quickly by the urge to expel her supper.

Jess tore her hand away from Taggart’s and struggled to her feet, surprising her onlookers. She cried out when her weight came down on her foot, but it was unavoidable. She pushed past the helping hands and bolted out the door.

Her face felt flushed, damp with sweat. The outhouse was in view.

She wasn’t going to make it.

She flung herself around the back corner of the house, fell to her good knee behind a clump of sage, and rapidly cleared her stomach.