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Authors: Beverly Jenkins

Taming of Jessi Rose (27 page)

BOOK: Taming of Jessi Rose
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“If I could arrange it, believe me, I would.” Griffin had no idea what Darcy had meant either, but he planned to watch his back.

Doyle waved as they finally made it to the bar. Jessi didn't imbibe, but Griffin ordered himself a small shot of tequila.

“So what do you think of the new place?” Doyle shouted proudly over the din.

“It's very—red,” Jessi shouted back, and it was. The walls were covered with red flocked paper, and the old sawdust and dirt floor had been replaced with one made of wood. The cloths on all the tables were red and trimmed with gold, as was the new carpet on the steps leading upstairs. Everywhere Jessi looked she saw red and gold. She didn't particularly care for the garish new interior, but it certainly looked fabulous when compared with the drab and tired place it had been before.

“Have you seen Auntie?” Jessi yelled.

“She's out back, escaping the crowd and the heat.”

They found Auntie and the girls holding court on chairs set out in the field behind the saloon. They were surrounded by men, some familiar, others not. The pungent, mouth-watering smell of meat cooking rose from the hogs and sides of beef turning on spits manned by barbershop owner Wilson Cornell and the shopkeeper Abe Thomas. Jessi looked around for Cornell's wife Lydia, but did not see her.

Jessi and Griff threaded their way to Auntie's side, and upon seeing them, Auntie threw up her hands and jumped to her feet. She gave them both a strong hug. “I'm so glad you two came. How do you like my new place? Can you tell red is my favorite color?”

“Yes, we could. It's so much larger than before,” Jessi replied.

“That it is, and I have the Twins to thank. If they hadn't destroyed the place, I would never have been able to fix it up like I always wanted.”

Griffin still wondered how much the Twins had given her, but it was far too late to ask.

“Griffin, there's a poker game going on upstairs, go play while Jessi and I talk.”

Griffin looked down at Jessi. “How can I refuse a direct order?”

“Guess you can't. I'll find you later.”

He touched her cheek and headed back to the door.

“Jessi Rose, that is one gorgeous man,” Auntie said, staring after Griff appreciatively. “And he sure looks like he knows how to take the long way around a woman's body. If I were twenty years younger I'd give you a run for your money.”

Jessi and the girls laughed. Jessi could see the folks around her watching and listening, but she ignored them. “Auntie, come take a walk with me for a few moments.”

“Sure.”

As they moved away from the crowd, Jessi mentioned how she'd been greeted by the townspeople upon arrival and asked, “Why is everybody being so nice? You didn't put tequila in the punch again, did you?”

Auntie's black eyes glittered with amusement. “No, though some of them could use a good stiff drink. Did the Twins come?”

“They are stalking the town daughters even as we speak.”

“Good, they'll liven up the place.” She beamed at Jessi. “Look at you, all prettied up. You should dress this way more often.”

“Thank you for the compliment, but I can't ride fences or brand cows dressed this way.”

“Of course not, dear, but every now and then you should. It'll help you remember why the Good Lord made you a female.”

Jessi knew better than to argue, so she grinned and said, “Yes, Auntie.”

“Now, what was your question?”

“Why is everyone smiling at me like I'm the Second Coming?”

“Hard to stomach, isn't it?”

Jessi nodded.

“Damn bunch of hypocrites.”

“Watch your language, now,” Jessi warned, smiling.

“I'm sorry.
Fool
bunch of hypocrites.”

Jessi shook her head. Auntie's speech had been peppered with invectives for as long as Jessi could remember, and Jessi had gotten in big trouble when she was young for emulating her. “So what's the reason?”

“They're acting like you're the Second Coming because they think you are.”

Jessi's face mirrored her confusion. “I don't understand.”

“They think Griffin and his friends are here to do away with Reed Darcy once and for all.”

“Really?”

“Yep, folks are saying you're calling in desperadoes from as far away as California to help you make a final stand.”

“Sounds like a marvelous plan. Too bad it isn't the truth.”

“I know. They figure if they're nice to you, you'll protect them too.”

Jessi was speechless for a moment, then she began to laugh so hard her sides started to ache. When she was able to gather herself she wiped the tears from her eyes. “Oh, Auntie, that's the funniest thing I've heard in years. They want protection from the whore!”

“Some are even saying that when your men are done with Darcy, you're going to start in on everybody who was ever mean to you.”

“That'll cover just about everyone here.”

“Except for me and Gillie.”

“Except for you and Gillie,” Jessi replied affectionately.

Auntie looked up at her and said, “It's good to see you smiling again, little girl.”

“I've had precious little to smile about.”

“Amen,” Auntie chimed softly. “It's still good to see though, then again, what female wouldn't be smiling, having those handsome men around the house? Especially that Griffin Blake.”

“Auntie—” Jessi warned.

“Don't Auntie me, little girl, you could do worse.”

Jessi couldn't argue with that.

Jessi walked Auntie back to the saloon. “There'll be eats in a little while. Stay as long as you like.”

Jessi nodded. “Thanks, I will.”

Jessi went back inside and was immediately assaulted by the heat of too many bodies in too small a space. Outdoors was much cooler but she doubted Griffin wanted to be pulled away from his poker game so soon just to escort her outside, so she thought she'd go see if Gillie was in her shop. To her disappointment, the shop was closed. Gillie was probably at her home outside of town. Faced with nothing else to do but go back to the saloon, Jessi turned around to do so. As she passed the alley running alongside Gillie's shop, she stopped; she thought she heard someone singing. When the soft, mournful tune resumed, Jessi walked down the alley to investigate.

The singing came from Roscoe Darcy. He was seated on the ground with his back against Gillie's wall, and he appeared to be very drunk. When he looked up and saw Jessi standing over him, he gave her a lopsided grin and said in a friendly but slurred voice, “Hey, Jessi girl. Haven't seen you in a month of Sundays.”

She couldn't stop her smile from forming in reply. At one time, she and Ros had been the closest of friends, but they hadn't spoken as friends in years, and since her
father's murder, she hadn't spoken to him at all. “Hello, Ros. How are you?”

He'd always been very fastidious about his dress and manner, but today his suit looked as if it had been slept in. His eyes were red from drink, and his hair hadn't been dressed in quite a while. “Well, as you can see, I'm drunk. Drunk, drunk, drunk, drunk, drunk. Plan to stay this way, too.”

“Why, if you don't mind me asking?”

“I like it, and it makes Reed furious.” He began to giggle like a child. “Nothing he can do about it, though. Not a
damn
thing.” He placed his hand over his mouth. “Sorry, shouldn't cuss when a lady's around.”

Looking up at her again, he said, “You know, Jessi girl, if you stay drunk, you don't have to see what's right in front of your face. They think I'm blind, and the drink helps me pretend I am.”

“Who thinks you're blind?”

“Reed and that whore known as my wife. She's the real whore, Jessi girl, not you.”

Jessi wondered if that meant he knew about Minerva opening her bed to his father. It certainly sounded that way. Was that what had started Roscoe drinking?

“You know,” he said drunkenly, “she actually thought I'd believe she was a virgin. Can you believe that?”

“No, Ros, I can't.”

“Me neither,” he replied. “Reed had her before I did. Told her he couldn't marry her because he was going to marry you. He must be blind too.”

“He must be.”

“Keep telling him, ‘Jessi girl ain't gonna marry you, Pa.' He won't believe me. Thinks he's too powerful and rich for you to say no. Keep telling him, ‘Jessi girl ain't going to marry you, Pa,' but he don't believe me.” He peered up at her. “Did you tell him?”

“Yes, Ros, I did, many times.”

“He don't believe you, though.”

“No.”

“See?” He then took another draw from the bottle that had been resting in his lap. “Arrogant man, my pa, but I hear that Blake's got him on the run. Anybody that'll throw a chair through Pa's window is a good man, to my thinking. Is he a good man, Jessi girl?”

Jessi nodded.

“Glad to hear it. Hope he gives Pa hell.”

He took another healthy draw on the bottle. “Now, go on back to the party. I got more drinking to do.”

“Ros—”

“Go on. You shouldn't be seen with the likes of me. Not when I'm like this.”

She tried one last time. “Do you want me to find someone to walk you back to the hotel?”

“Nope. Find my own way on my own. Eventually.”

“All right then.” She headed back up the alley.

“Jessi Rose?”

She turned back.

He said, “I'm sorry about what happened to Dex. If I could've stopped it, I would've.”

“So he was shot on Reed's orders?”

“Yep.”

“Would you be willing to say that to a jury?”

“Maybe, but not today. Today, I got a lot more drinking to do.”

“Ros?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He nodded at her, and then, as if he were alone, began to sing softly once more.

Jessi stepped out of the alley and back onto the walk to find Two Shafts leaning against the front of Gillie's shop with his arms folded across his chest. He looked to be waiting for her. She wondered if he'd been follow
ing her. She was just about to quiz him when Minerva Darcy and a group of her harpies came up the walk. They began whispering and raising their noses as soon as they got within wind of her, and as they walked by, the overdressed Minerva looked from Two Shafts to Jessie and quipped, “I didn't know whores were allowed to ply their wares on the same streets where decent women walk.”

Some of the women tittered.

Jessi felt anger course through her veins.

They were only a few steps past Jessi when she walked up behind them and called out, “Hey, Eula!”

When Minerva turned, the solid punch Jessi gave her sent her sprawling to the walk where decent women walk. Minerva lay on the ground with her eyes wide and her hand to her jaw. As Minerva looked down at the enamel in her hand, she cried, “You've broken one of my teeth!”

Two Shafts began laughing so hard Jessi thought he was going to roll on the walk too. Jessi hand hurt like the dickens, but she felt good. “Sorry,” Jessi told her coldly, “I was gunning for three.”

Two Shafts howled. By now the altercation had drawn a small crowd. Minerva's harpies were cowering like a bunch of scared chickens, and only after they seemed certain Jessi was done throwing punches did they rush to Minerva's side.

Jessi turned her attention to the still chuckling Comanche. “Shall we go?”

“Certainly. By the way, hell of a punch, Jessita, hell of a punch.”

“Thank you.”

“If you decide not to marry Cheno, will you marry me?”

Watching Minerva struggle to her feet, Jessi cracked in parting, “See you around, Eula.”

Minerva's eyes were filled with fire.

As they walked back to the saloon Shafts asked, “Hand still hurting?”

Jessi cradled her sore hand with the other. She grimaced. “A lot.”

“We'll see if Doyle has any ice. Cheno's going to tie me behind a horse when he finds out I let you brawl in the streets. I was under orders to watch you.”

“He doesn't have to know.”

The Comanche shook his head. “It's going to be all over town by the time we get back to the saloon. He'll know. All he'll have to do is look at that hand.”

Jessi could feel pain radiating up her wrist. “Who knew the woman had such a hard jaw?”

“But she dropped like a stone.” And Two Shafts began laughing all over again.

When they got to Auntie's, Doyle immediately stuck Jessi's hand down inside a big barrel filled with ice and he held it there until she swore her fingers would pop off like New York icicles. “That's enough, Doyle! My hand's frozen like a pond.”

He released her wrist and Jessi slowly pulled her frigid hand free of the barrel. She gingerly flexed her knuckles. The pain had lessened somewhat, but if the hand wasn't broken, it sure felt as if it were.

Somebody found the doc and brought him into the storeroom where Jessi sat with her aching hand. Dr. Lazarus Salt had known Jessi all her life. When he came in, he shook his white head and said, “Well, little girl, what have you broken now?”

“My hand, I believe.”

He bent over her hand and examined it slowly. “Aren't you a bit old to still be falling out of trees?”

She grinned. While growing up she'd broken her right arm and her left wrist in two separate tree falls: the arm when she was seven, the wrist at age ten. “Ouch!” Jessi
yelled, as he moved her fingers this way and that.

“Not broken. Bruised.”

He straightened. “It's going to hurt for a few days. Try to keep ice on it if you have any at the ranch. Either way it's gonna swell, but you'll be right as rain, eventually.”

After he wrapped up her hand, he then looked to Doyle. “Where's that man of hers? He know she's out brawling in the streets?”

BOOK: Taming of Jessi Rose
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