King's Ransom (21 page)

Jesse was
heartsick at the growing gap between herself and King. For the last three days
he'd purposely absented himself from her presence. When he couldn't avoid her,
there was a look of pain and guilt so imbedded in his eyes that Jesse didn't
know how to put things right.

She didn't know
whether she'd embarrassed him by her declaration, or whether all he felt was
guilt at not being able to reciprocate her feelings.

This is what
she'd most feared would happen if King realized she loved him. Now he was
probably lost to her for good . . . even as a friend.

Her heart twisted
in pain. She stifled the urge to cry and headed for the house.

"Wow!" Jesse
gasped, as she blew through the door. "That wind is furious." She
shrugged out of her scarf and jacket, tried unsuccessfully to smooth her dark
tangles into some semblance of order, and staggered into King's outstretched
arms. The wind outside was not as furious as King.

"What do you
think you were doing?" he asked slowly, his dark eyes flashing, his mouth
grim with anger.

"Putting up
your
horse,"
Jesse answered, trying to pull away from King's angry grasp before he could
finish his urge to shake her.

"Jesse, am I
ever going to be able to trust you
not
to get into
trouble when I'm gone? You could have been hurt," he muttered, raking her
slight figure with a frantic sweep of his eyes.

"You're
what's hurting me," Jesse muttered, and watched in dismay as King's face
blanched. She wished she could take back her angry taunt. But it was too late.
The damage was done.

King looked
blankly down at the fierce grip he had on her arms, and instantly set her free.
He turned away, hunched his shoulders and leaned his head against the pane of
glass in the kitchen door.

"I'm
sorry," he said, clinching his hands into fists of frustration. "I'm
sorry, so sorry, Jesse Rose. All I seem to be able to do is hurt you."

He felt a dark,
ugly rage building; he felt himself becoming as out of control as the wind
outside, and angrily drew back his fist, unconsciously aiming for the window.

Jesse acted on
instinct. She caught his fist just before it connected with the glass in the
door and hung on to his arm with all her might.

"No!"
she cried out. "No, King. Stop it! Stop it now!"

King took a
harsh, deep breath and blinked. He looked down at the dust streaks on Jesse's
face, the distress filling her wide, blue eyes, and the grip she had on his
arm. What the hell was wrong with him? He hadn't lost control of his emotions
like this since he was a teenager.

The look on his
face was so lost Jesse couldn't help herself. She stepped forward, wrapping her
arms around his waist as she laid her head against his chest. His heartbeat was
ricocheting against her eardrum, but the longer Jesse held him, the steadier it
became. Finally, Jesse felt his arms slip around her shoulders as King relaxed
and buried his face in her hair.

"I need you
to forgive me, Jesse Rose," he whispered. "I need back in your life
. . . anyway you'll have me. Please
..."

Jesse's heart
jumped. He finished his plea so softly she had to hold her breath to listen.

"Give me a
chance, Jesse. I can't make it without you. I don't even want to try."

Jesse started to
answer him, the joy in her heart spreading swiftly to her lips, when Maggie's
sharp call of concern brought them both crashing down to reality.

"King, come
quick!" Maggie called from the living room where she'd gone to watch
television before starting the noon meal.

King and Jesse
entered simultaneously, and each saw her concern. There were no words to
describe the coming horror.

Easily visible
through the floor to ceiling picture window was a massive wall of smoke
billowing along in the aftermath of the subsiding dust storm. A prairie fire!
And it looked as if it were heading with great speed toward the ranch adjoining
McCandless property. If they didn't get the fire under control soon, the Double
M would be right in its path.

"Call county
fire," King ordered. "I'll take most of the men with me. Turner and
Charlie will stay here. They'll need to be ready if we don't get the fire
stopped in time."

He cast a
regretful glance back at Jesse, saw the worry and fear on her face, and
couldn't resist. He pulled her into his arms, ignored the look of pleased
surprise on Maggie's face, and kissed her soundly.

"I'm not
through with you, girl. I've got to go . . . and for Pete's sake . . . and
mine," he added, "be careful."

Jesse's spirits
soared along with a bright red flush on her cheeks at the look of surprise and
satisfaction on Maggie's face.

"Well
now," she chuckled. "I guess grass fires aren't all that's out of
control around here. Come on, honey. Let's call the fire department quickly
before the whole world goes up in smoke."

Time passed
slowly. Jesse watched from the verandah as the county fire trucks went flying
down the road in front of the ranch in a cloud of dust, followed by the
volunteer fire-fighters in their personal vehicles. From time to time, Maggie
would step outside and stand beside Jesse's stiff little figure, waiting
sentinel on the porch steps.

"He's going
to be just fine, girl," Maggie said, and slipped a comforting arm around
Jesse's shoulders. "He's been doing this all of his life. Every year it's
the same thing. You know that. Some fool is bound to throw out a cigarette from
a passing car, or decide to burn trash, even on a day like this. Then all the
good men, like King, take time out to help each other. They fight fire. They
fight until the fire runs out of something to burn, or they put it out,
whichever comes first."

"I
know," Jesse said. "But this time it's different."

"No,
honey," Maggie offered. "This time you and King are what's different.
When did all this happen?"

"For
me," Jesse answered, "when I was sixteen, maybe seventeen. One day I
looked at him, and he'd changed, or my perception of him had. Whatever. I
waited and I waited for him to notice me. I wanted him to see me as an adult,
but he didn't."

The break in her
voice made Maggie feel guilty. She'd never suspected. Then something else
occurred to her.

"Is that why
you left us so suddenly?" Jesse nodded.

"Well, it's
obvious King finally noticed something," Maggie teased. "I haven't
seen a kiss like that since . . . since . . . well, at least since my soap
opera yesterday afternoon.

Jesse turned
around and burst out laughing at Maggie's words.

The ringing
telephone called Maggie indoors and it wasn't long before she stuck her head
back outside long enough to reply.

"I have to go
to the Winslow place. The fire started on their property and Sue burned her
hands trying to put it out. Her baby's not quite two and her husband is gone. I
told her I'd help out and spend the night until her husband gets home
tomorrow."

"Of
course," Jesse agreed, knowing how helpless she'd been when unable to use
her hands. And she'd had no one but herself to worry about. "Need a
ride?" she added.

"No. One of
the neighbors volunteered to come get me. You'll be all right, won't you?"
Maggie asked, suddenly realizing the predicament in which she'd be leaving
Jesse. They hadn't been leaving her alone. Maggie started to go back in and
change her plans when she remembered. "Turner and Charlie are still here,
aren't they? And King and the other men should be home before dark."

"I'll be
fine," Jesse urged. "Go pack your nightie. I'll watch for your
ride."

All too soon
Maggie was gone. Jesse watched as the pickup truck disappeared down the
driveway in a cloud of blowing dust. She looked behind her at the big, empty
house, and back at the ever present clouds of smoke on the horizon. She
couldn't control the shiver of fear that swept over her.
Please God, let
King be safe.

Turner and
Charlie waved at her as they came around the driveway from the machine sheds,
pulling a wide plow behind one of the tractors. Jesse knew they were going to
make a firebreak by cutting through the thick prairie grass with the steel
plowshares, turning the fire fodder under, and the clods of dry, Oklahoma soil
up to the sky.

The phone rang again,
and Jesse dashed to answer. It was King.

"Jesse,"
he asked in a rush, obviously out of breath. "Are you and Maggie
okay?"

"Yes,"
she answered, then added. "Maggie's not here. Someone came to get her. Sue
Winslow hurt herself and needed help with the baby."

"Okay,
honey," he said, and then coughed.

Jesse knew he'd
just turned his head away from the phone. His voice was so dry and husky she
could barely understand him. She feared he'd inhaled a lot of heat and smoke.

"Are you
okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine.
But I need you to give Turner a message."

Jesse started to
tell him Turner wasn't there either, but something made her stop.

"You need to
tell him to go get the two-year-olds. You remember, Jess? The ones the dogs
chased? If this fire jumps Salt Creek, they'll be in danger. Will you do that,
honey?"

"Yes, I'll
tend to it, King," she hedged, and knew he'd heard her hesitancy.

"Jesse, are
you going to do what I asked you to do?" he growled.

"Turner's
not here, King. He and Charlie are plowing a fire break," she said, her
words spilling out in a rush. "I can take Tariq and go let the horses out
before I can ever get Turner back to the ranch."

"No!"
he shouted into the phone. "No, dammit! No, Jesse! Promise me. Don't you
dare go after those horses!"

"King, if I
don't, they could be trapped. Then you'd lose everything," Jesse argued.

"Jesse
Rose," he shouted, and she had to hold the phone away from her ear.
"I said don't go!"

But the line went
dead in his ear and King threw the phone down in panic. Damn her to hell and
back, she would go. He knew it. He ran past the stunned patrons of the corner
quick-stop where he'd gone to use the phone, and jumped back into the borrowed
jeep. He would never get back to the Double M in time to stop her. And Jesse
was wrong. He wouldn't lose a thing unless something happened to her.
Then
he'd lose
everything.

The big stallion
was uneasy. He danced sideways when Jesse dismounted to open the wide, wooden
gate that separated the meadow above the ranch from the grass land where the
horses were pastured.

She could smell
smoke in the air, and if she looked closely between the trees in the distance,
she could see the first hints of grayish-brown wisps gathering above the
treetops.

The wind was
blowing against her left cheek as she mounted Tariq and turned him full face
into the wind. She didn't think the fire had crossed the creek yet, and prayed
the fire-fighters would be able to stop the blaze before it did. If they could,
the Double M would be spared. But Jesse knew time was of the essence, and
kicked Tariq in the flanks, urging him at a gallop toward the big pond and the
herd of two-year-olds.

She rode Tariq
hard, but his seat was easy as he ran. Jesse had no problems staying mounted.
Nothing could have prepared her for the panic and terror that lay waiting just
over the hill.

The closer she
got, the sharper was the tang of acrid smoke filling the air. Jesse's heartbeat
accelerated. Smoke was blowing in long, stringy clouds, making her eyes water
and her nose burn as she reluctantly inhaled the burning wind. Tariq tossed his
head and Jesse knew he, too, was suffering from the effects of the fire. She
leaned over in the saddle and urged him on, knowing the horse's instincts were
telling him he was going the wrong way.

"Come on, big
fellow," Jesse called in his ear. "We're almost there."

It was after they
topped the last hill above the pond where Jesse had enjoyed her skinny dip that
she saw the extent of danger she and Tariq faced if they tried to rescue the
already trapped horses.