Brave the Wild Wind

Chapter 8

OLD Jeb was in his glory when he was storytelling, and he had a rapt audience in Billy Ewing. Jessie was amused, leaning back against a railing and watching the expressions on her half brother’s face as he listened to Jeb recount the time he’d come that close to being hanged.

Back at the end of ‘63, the Vigilantes of Montana had nearly sent Jeb to Boot Hill. The Vigilantes were formed in Virginia City, a town known to its shame to have been the scene of two hundred murders in only six months. Jeb had simply been mistaken for a member of a large gang. He was tried and sentenced to hang. The only reason he was spared was that the gang member he was mistaken for happened to wander into the crowd to watch the hanging. As he approached the crowd, he was recognized. It was an experience Jeb loved to talk about.

Jessie had heard it so often, though. She left the stable without even being noticed, so engrossed were the young man and the old one.

She moved on slowly toward the house, stopping at the porch and stretching out on one of the leather settees. The air was still and not too cold. Jessie didn’t want to go in just yet. It was late, but not too late.

Jessie closed her eyes against her thoughts, hoping the clear air would clear her mind so she could sleep. Just as she was beginning to feel peaceful, she heard, “Where’s the boy?”

Jessie opened her eyes slowly. She didn’t see Chase at first, and had to look around to find him sitting on the steps, leaning back against a post so he could face her.

“You’ll find Billy in the stable with Jeb.”

“I wasn’t looking for him, just wondering where he was. I thought he might have turned in early, as much riding as he did today.”

Jessie grinned to herself, remembering how hard Billy had tried to keep up with her. “He’ll probably be sore in the morning, but I think he enjoyed himself.”

“I’ve no doubt of that. He’s wanted to go with you for a long time.”

Jessie sat straight up and looked at him. “How would you know?”

“He tells me things,” Chase replied a little proudly. “Will you be taking him out again?”

“I haven’t thought about that.” Jessie shrugged. “Not tomorrow, anyway. I won’t be here tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

Jessie felt her anger rising, and underneath that, she felt some of the pain Chase had caused her that morning.

“Yes, ‘Oh,’ and it’s none of your business why, mister.”

“I wish you’d consider calling me Chase,” he said nicely.

“I don’t know you well enough.”

He grinned. “That can be easily rectified. What would you like to know about me?”

“Nothing,” she said stubbornly, closing her eyes again.

“That’s too bad, because I find myself infinitely curious about you.”

She looked at him sharply. Was he teasing her?

“Why?” she demanded.

“You’re so different from most girls. I find it fascinating, the way you’ve been raised. Tell me something. Is it what you wanted, this kind of life?”

“What difference does it make?” she said. “It’s done. I am the way I am.” She tried hard to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She would never admit to this man or to Rachel how much she hated her life. She wanted more than anything else to look and act like other girls. She’d had a chance to change herself when her father died, a chance to be normal at long last. She would have her chance again when the two interlopers were gone.

“Yes,” Chase was saying pleasantly. “You are certainly unique. You can’t blame a man for being curious, now, can you?”

He had such an engaging smile. His teeth were so white and even, his lips generous, yet not too full. And his dark hair waved across his forehead like ...

Jessie shook herself. What was the matter with her, staring at him like that?

“Men out here, whether they’re curious or not, don’t ask so many questions,” she said to him. “But I forget, you’re not from out here. I’ll be going to Cheyenne tomorrow, since you’re interested. I have to hire a few more men for the roundup.”

“Mind if I ride along?”

“Why? So you can do Rachel’s bidding? I told you you’d only be wasting your time.”

“Well, why don’t you let me be the judge of that? I won’t be moving along until I’ve done what your mother asked of me, you know.” He tried to say it as gently as possible.

“Then by all means, you can come along with me tomorrow,” Jessie said quickly.

Chase laughed heartily. “How eager you are to be rid of me. You wound me terribly, Jessica. Most women find me charming and witty. Women usually like having me around, believe it or not.”

“But, then, I’m not a woman, am I?” Jessie said in a perfectly calm voice, her expression unchanging. “I’m just a spoiled brat. So what I think of you can’t make any difference one way or another, now, can it?”

Chase frowned. That echoed too closely what he’d said to Rachel that morning. She couldn’t possibly have overheard, could she? No. She wouldn’t be speaking to him at all if she had.

“Where’s Rachel?” Jessie broke into his thoughts.

“She’s gone to bed,” he answered, giving her a measuring look. “And don’t you think it would be more appropriate if you called her Mother?”

“No, I don’t,” she replied simply. “And I think I’ll be turning in myself now.”

Jessie sat up and stretched her arms outward and back, emphasizing that she was worn out, not just eager to end their conversation. His eyes went to her body, particularly to the area where her breasts pressed against her shirt front.

So that was all it took to get him to notice her as a woman! Jessie stretched a little harder before she stood up. She delighted in his expression. He seemed unaware that he was staring rudely.

“I’ll be leaving before dawn, if you’re set on riding with me,” Jessie volunteered.

“Yes, well—”

“Good night, Mr. Summers.”

Chase watched her walk into the house. In the privacy of her room she would be removing her clothes, those male clothes that didn’t really hide her femininity at all. What would she be putting on to wear to bed? A nightshirt? Nothing at all? He found he could easily picture her completely nude.

He began to wonder if his image of her would match the reality. Were her breasts really so full and rounded as they seemed, her waist so tiny? Her face and hands were sun-kissed, but he imagined the rest of her as delicate as a white rose. Her legs would be her worst feature. They were beautifully long in proportion to her body, but she spent long hours riding astride every day, and that had to make for hard, bulging muscles. Yet those legs would be powerful, with the strength to trap a man between them and keep him there until she was through with him. Yes, she would be aggressive in making love.

Good Lord, what the hell was he doing, sitting here thinking those thoughts? Regardless of her shapely body, she was just a kid. He had no business stripping her clothes off, even in his mind. She was pretty enough—beautiful, really, if he cared to be honest. Downright stunning when she smiled.

But he didn’t even like her. No, he didn’t even like her.