On Her Way Home (6 page)

Chapter Nine

The full milk pail swung back and forth from Jo’s arms as she left the barn. Sloshing a little milk from her pail, she slid the barn door closed behind her. As she did so, Leif came whistling around the back of the barn, jumped the fence with ease, and hefted the milk pail out of Jo’s hand.

This afternoon when all the planting was completed and the four workers were enjoying some iced tea on the back porch, Leif had put his arms over his head and stretched his legs out, crossing them over his ankles, saying to no one in particular, “Yep, I’m sure glad I hired that Jo Swenson feller. He knows how to work.” Kirby and Charlie had nodded their agreement, and Jo had laughed outright.

“I will take that as a compliment, but don’t get any ideas about referring to me as a man on a regular basis.” She’d warned him lightheartedly.

Leif had looked lazily at Jo in her dust-soaked Riders and sweat-stained shirt. She might dress like a man, but it couldn’t hide the curves of her body. Leif had been comfortable with Jo from the first day. Flirting with women came as natural to him as breathing. After work on Monday, they’d bumped into each other in the hallway, both heading to the water closet. Leif had opened the door and stood to the side, allowing her to enter. Taking a step into the bathroom, Jo had turned to find Leif entering right behind her.

He’d grinned wickedly, saying, “I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.”

Jo had grabbed his shoulders, spun him around, and pushed him out the door, shutting it in his face while he laughed. Opening it back up a tiny crack, she’d looked at him through her eyelashes and murmured in a low voice, “I don’t mind sharing.”

Leif’s mouth had dropped open in shock. What kind of woman was this? Then with a sweet grin on her face, Jo had finished, “Just not with you!” Promptly shutting the door in his face again and sniggering on her side of it.

Leif liked Jo immensely; not only was she a hard worker and a fast learner, but she was easy to be around and kind hearted. After work each night, she visited with Mattie while they cleared the table and did the dishes. She took an interest in Charlie too, patiently watching him learn to lasso in the yard and complimenting him when he managed to throw the rope around the hay bale. In the back of his mind, he worried that the boss would come home and ruin the camaraderie. Leif had mentioned the boss to Jo a couple of times and thought it was odd that she hadn’t asked any follow-up questions about him. He figured he better have a talk with Jo early next week and prepare her for the boss’s return.

As Jo and Leif walked up the back steps with the milk pail, Charlie came bounding out of the house begging, “Mr. Hawkins, can I ride to town with you? They’re showing a double feature this afternoon, ‘The Rattler’s Hiss’ and ‘Roarin’ Dan,’ and I’ve been saving up to see them.”

Dropping down into the porch rocking chair, Leif mulled over the idea. “Well, I wouldn’t mind, except that I won’t be back until late,” he hedged.

Kirby, who was sitting on the porch, looked at Leif, “Might be a good idea to take Charlie along. He can make sure Miss Tucker isn’t taken advantage of.”

“She’ll be plenty safe with me. We are just going for a Saturday afternoon drive,” Leif drawled with an innocent expression plastered on his face. Kirby shook his head skeptically, recognizing a fox when he saw one.

Mattie stepped out onto the porch and said to Leif, “You should take Charlie. He deserves a treat after working hard all week.” Charlie nodded his head repeatedly, in accordance with Mattie.

Cornered, Leif had no choice. “All right, you can come to town with me,” he acquiesced, regretfully modifying his plans concerning Aimee.

Charlie turned to Jo. “Would you like to see the show with me?” he asked hopefully.

Bumping along to town, sandwiched between Leif and Charlie, didn’t appeal to Jo. She had been waiting all day to take a cool dip in the swimming hole Leif had described to her this morning. He said a trail about a half of a mile long cut through the woods and led to a pebbly beach alongside the river, perfect for cooling off.

“I think I will pass, Charlie, maybe next time though,” Jo declined, choosing not to divulge her swimming plans. She wanted solitude, and if Charlie knew where she was going, he might change his plans and decide to go swimming with her.

Fifteen minutes later, Mattie, Kirby and Jo watched the truck with Leif and Charlie in it pull out of the yard, leaving a dusty trail behind it. Jo wasted no time, turning to Mattie and asking, “Is it easy to get to the swimming hole? I’d really love a walk and a refreshing dip.”

Mattie pointed to an opening in the woods alongside the field. “There is a clear trail right through the woods over there. It will take you to a little beach.”

Kirby eyed Jo. “Want me to ride the horses down there with you?” he offered.

Mattie shushed him, placing her hand on his arm. “Jo doesn’t need you tagging along interrupting her respite from the boys. You stay put.”

Jo thanked Kirby for the offer, politely denying Mattie’s claim, even though she had nailed Jo’s thoughts precisely on the head. It felt nice to have Mattie watching over her. Jo sent her a quick “thank you” with her eyes and flew up the stairs to grab a towel from her room.

The walk to the river was the best part of Jo’s stay at the ranch so far. Stretching her arms out to her sides, she let each green blade of wheat glide through her fingers as she cut a path along the edge of the field. Her hair whipped around her face with the gentle breeze, then fell back as she tilted her face up to the sun and closed her eyes, savoring the warmth on her face and the earthy smell of the ranch. Reaching the trees, she spied the path. It cut through the woods just as Mattie had said. She weaved her way around branches and held limbs to the side as she followed the winding trail, gradually it descended, and the air became damp, telling Jo she must be getting close.

Finally, she could hear the rippling water up ahead. Coming around the corner, Jo spied the beach as the trees cleared out. The river thrashed and flowed around rocks upstream, but then winding around an outcropping of flat stones, it poured into the canyon wall opposite of the beach. The wall’s concave shape allowed the water to slow to a lazy crawl, creating a deep wide swimming hole. A few trees grew from the rocky ledges of the wall above, casting their dark shadows on the pool below. The beach was piled with small smooth round stones of every shade: white, silver, black, and some a burnt orange color. Gently lapping at the stones, the clear water rhythmically surged forward onto the beach and back out again.

Jo sat on the soft pebbles and unlaced her shoes, anxious to feel the cleansing water on her skin. She didn’t own a bathing suit, so at the house she had quickly shed her work clothes and slipped a simple undergarment over her head with a light cotton dress. Jo had a moment’s hesitation as she unbuttoned the dress, scanning the wall and tree line for unwanted company. A moment later, she was at the water’s edge in her peach, silk, step-in chemise, dipping her toes in the water. The water was chilly, but the sun beating down on her bare arms gave Jo the motivation she needed to step deeper into the water. Inch by inch she moved forward until a small slope of pebbles under her feet gave way and she slid all the way in. Jo sucked in her breath sharply as the cold water hit sensitive parts of her body. She violently treaded water until she became accustomed to the temperature and then began swimming in lazy circles, letting her thoughts drift where they may.

Back home there was a creek-fed lake with clear water only a short distance from her home, but Jo had stopped swimming there when she was fourteen. That summer, Jo had traversed the line from girlhood into womanhood. As she’d stepped out of the water, dripping wet with her shirt clinging to her chest, an ill-mannered friend of Caleb’s had loudly commented on her maturing body. Caleb had rapidly socked him in the jaw for his nasty observation, but the damage was done. Jo was mortified and rushed home to cry privately in her room. From that day on, she swam in the shallow pond behind the barn. Ironically, a few years later when all of the boys’ Caleb’s age had transformed into strong young men, the lewd boy had yet to develop and was still speaking in a high soprano pitch. It was delicious revenge to Jo who had never forgiven him for his foul remarks. This memory was one of the many Jo relived in her mind while she spent two hours alternating between bathing in the sunlight on the outcropping of flat stones and languidly cooling off in the water.

Thoroughly enjoying the time to herself, Jo floated on her back in the calm water and watched a puffy white cloud slink across the sky.

“You’re trespassing.” The cold words sliced into her dreamy tranquility like red hot ash.

Jo bolted upright in the water, sending a wave splashing into her face at the very same time she inhaled. Coughing and gasping, she frenziedly wiped the water from her eyes, combing the beach for the intruder. Her eyes met the stony gaze of a man on horseback. He was near the water’s edge, glaring at her in hard, chilling silence. His hostile look caused Jo to slink back deeper into the river. The ripple of the water was the only sound, as his dark eyes bored into her. Then without saying another word, he swung his horse around and trotted up the same trail that Jo had come down two hours earlier.

Her breathing was rapid and shallow in the river
. What should I do?
Her mind raced through options.
Should I get out and quickly dress? What if he is out there in the woods watching me? How long has he been there?
she panicked inwardly. Jo cast her eyes down through the water to her silk chemise; her cheeks colored brightly. The silk fabric was nearly transparent in the clear river current, revealing every detail of Jo’s curvaceous body. Immediately, she rejected her plan to leave the water, deciding it would be best to wait here and hope Kirby would come looking for her. It was growing late in the evening, and the sun was starting its descent, stealing its heated rays from the swimming hole. Reluctant to leave the water, Jo waited a few more minutes, her teeth beginning to chatter and goosebumps prickling her skin
. It could be almost dark before he comes
, she thought ruefully to herself. The idea of soaking there in the dark, surrounded by thick woods, frightened her. All right, think! she ordered herself. Scanning the tree line, her eyes concentrating, she thought she saw the silhouette of a man. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was just the blurry black outline of a small ponderosa pine.

Summoning all her courage, Jo swiftly swam to the shore, gathered her clothing up in her arms, and ran to a dense stand of trees for cover. Not bothering to dry off, she frantically pulled the dress over her wet chemise and buttoned it, all the while raking her eyes through the woods in every direction. Leaning against a tree, Jo tugged a shoe onto one wet foot and then the other. Then she took a deep breath and bolted up the trail, planning to run the entire way home. Up ahead she could see the trail break into the field. She sped up anxious to be out of the darkening woods.

Barreling out of the trees and into the field, she glanced behind her. Seeing no one, she slowed her pace and staggered to a halt, bending over at the waist and sucking in deep breaths of air. When Jo’s breathing finally slowed, she stood up, sweeping her wild hair back from her face. As she did so, her eyes crashed into the man from the beach. He was perched collectedly atop his horse with his arms crossed over the saddle horn, watching her through icy eyes.

Completely embarrassed, Jo was at a loss for what to say. Her dress was sucked tight to her body displaying her dips and curves, her hair was a dripping wet mass, and she was completely unnerved by this hard-looking man. She kept silent waiting for him to speak first.

After long seconds ticked by with nothing from the man but a cold stare, Jo spoke up shakily, “I wasn’t trespassing. I work on this ranch. I was just hired this week as one of the new ranch hands.”

He said nothing, just continued to stare Jo down. His hat was pulled down low on his forehead, shading his eyes; all Jo could see was the hard flat line of his mouth. He reached up with his large hand and tipped the hat back just enough to allow him to slowly scrutinize her. He started at the top of her tangled hair, his eyes gradually lowering, pausing indolently at certain stretches of her figure until they stopped at her untied shoes. Jo squirmed under his rude inspection.

Tipping his hat forward again, he drawled with disdain, “The boss would never hire a woman.”

Hot anger swelled in Jo, motivating her to act. Straightening her spine and tilting her chin, she shot daggers into his eyes and then decisively swept past him on her way to the house. The way he had coolly scanned and then denounced her as a “woman,” somehow less capable than a man, burned Jo. Even as a child, she had spurned the typecast applied to her gender, always begging Pa to let her ride with the boys and work in the fields rather than helping in the house. When she entered her adolescent years and began enjoying more womanly pursuits, as well as ball, chase, and dirt, she felt torn, like she had to split herself down the middle and be half of who she really was. Boys in her high school divided girls into two groups: womanly, refined, and desirable, or if they enjoyed more active pursuits, girls were considered odd, unnatural, and unsuitable as wives and mothers. At her core, she knew she was just as valuable as a man. She more than knew it; she sensed it from her Almighty Creator. That’s not to say Jo didn’t reverence roles of wife and mother. Her own tender mother had demonstrated that gentleness, kindness, and femininity were gifts of great value, irreplaceable in the family and in society. Mother was a testament to Jo that all women have the capacity to be all things and do all things through the grace of God. She disagreed with the National Woman’s Party protests’ outside of The White House, but she couldn’t deny that without them, women would probably still be disenfranchised.