Never Love a Cowboy (6 page)

“I’d say the fellow who left you was the one who sinned.”

She shook her head. “He didn’t force me. He sweet-talked me. I would have followed him into hell. Guess in a way, I did. When I discovered he’d hightailed it out of Fortune, I was ashamed—not of the baby, never of the baby. But of myself. I didn’t want any witnesses to my stupidity, so I ran off. Got to a mission just east of San Antone. The baby was born there. She had the reddest hair, the bluest eyes. That’s all I remember about her.”

“You left her at the mission?”

“I was gonna take her with me. The priest took care of me until I was strong enough to travel. I was packing to leave when he came to see me. He simply said, ‘The Lord works in mysterious ways’ and told me to look out the window. A man and woman had stopped by the mission to bury their baby, who had just died. I saw them standing in the cemetery. It was raining. I didn’t get a good look at them, but I could tell they wore fancy clothes. Then the man put his arms around the woman and drew her close…and I knew they’d take good care of my baby.”

“So you gave her to them,” Harry said.

“I gave her to the priest and watched as he gave her to them. You asked me once if I’d had my heart broken. Giving her up shattered it into a thousand pieces.”

R
esting up on an elbow, Harrison listened
to the logs crackle within the hearth, a sweet harmony enhanced by Jessye’s even breathing as she slept curled on her side, a hand tucked beneath her cheek.

In silence, he’d finished brushing her hair. The rat’s nest she detested was beautiful in the amber glow from the fire.

Careful, so as not to wake her, he rubbed several strands between his fingers. From a distance, her hair looked like tangled wire, but in truth, it was as soft as gossamer, much like its owner. Jessye was undeniably strong and incredibly vulnerable. A woman with a shattered heart. And he had unmercifully gouged those shards into her time and again.

It had hurt to love his mother and to know only her hate. He had shackled the emotion in the darkest pit of his soul where none could touch it, where it could not threaten to taunt him with what he could never possess.

Just as he had learned to cheat at cards, he had mastered cheating at love. Love could be imitated with baubles, flowers, and hollow words. A touch
here, a kiss there, a whispered endearment. Until Jessye, he had always taken great care in choosing his gaming partners. He always selected those who understood the rules and cheated as well.

Jessye had played the game of love with a cheater once before—and she had paid dearly for her innocence. She was not likely to play the game with him.

For the first time in his life, he wished he understood love, so he could play fairly without manipulating her heart…in order to gain her body.

“I’m thinking we should head west,” Jessye said. The rain had stopped, and she felt the new direction of the wind, bringing the warmth.

“South.” Harry extended his deck of cards toward her. “Cut the deck. If you get the high card, we go west. Low card, we go south.”

“Cutting a deck is not the way to make a business decision.”

“But you won’t compromise.”

She slammed her eyes closed. Why was she even considering cutting the deck? She could just head west and he’d follow. She knew from last night’s conversation that he was too much of a gentleman to let her ride alone. Releasing a frustrated sigh, she opened her eyes and cut the deck a quarter of the way down. Nine of hearts.

Harry cut to a card in the middle. Jack of clubs.

One of these days, she was going to figure out how he cheated.

Sitting astride her horse atop the rise, Jessye stared at the cattle roaming the land. “How did you know they’d be here?”

“I didn’t.”

She narrowed her eyes. There were too many longhorns to count. Their coats differed in shading, but they were all lean, bony creatures. “They have to belong to someone.”

“I don’t see any brands.”

“How many do you reckon there are?” she said, her voice low, disbelieving.

“A hundred at least. Probably more. It’ll take more than the two of us to drive them back to Fortune.”

She cast a sideways glance at Harry. He was unfolding a map. After a week of traveling, he was unshaven, covered in dust and grime. But he looked over the herd as a conqueror might have, with the slightest smile of triumph. “Why were you so sure the cattle were here?”

He studied his map. “I wasn’t.”

“We just got lucky?”

He sighed heavily. “If you must know, I tried to think like a bull.”

She stared at him. “What?”

He cast his arm out in a circle. “Look about you. The weather is warmer. There is plenty of water, and the grass is plentiful even though winter is upon us. If I were a bull, this is the haven I would seek.”

“Harry—”

He held up a hand. “To ease your doubting mind, we shall take a slow, cautious ride around the perimeter of the herd. You may keep a sharp lookout for brands. If you spot none, and if we find no one living about who can lay claim to these cattle, then we shall head to the nearest town”—he looked at his map—“which I judge to be a day’s ride away if we ride in
haste. There we will hire a few men to help us herd the cattle back to Fortune.”

“If men are that close, why haven’t they already rounded these cattle up and claimed them?”

“Because, Jessye love, not every man is willing to risk everything when there is a chance he will gain nothing. Look at the men of Fortune. We offered them this opportunity, and they turned it down, preferring to pick cotton.” He urged his horse forward. “Come along. Let’s ease your mind.”

Nudging her horse to follow, she wondered why she felt that Harry was somehow cheating.

For the first time, Jessye wished that she’d brought a dress. A foolish thought, when the town was mostly populated with men. She and Harry sat at a corner table in a log cabin saloon that made her father’s place look grand.

They had taken advantage of the bathhouse next door. Her clothes were clean and pressed, but they were the clothes of a man, and she knew deep in her heart that it was for the best. Still, she wished she had something pretty to wear, even if it was nothing more than a colored ribbon.

Harry, on the other hand, was dressed in a black waistcoat, a red brocade vest, a black cravat, and black britches that hugged his thighs. He had shaved and looked deliciously wicked. When he’d stepped out of the bathhouse, he’d literally stolen her breath, and she had yet to recover it.

Damn the scoundrel for distracting her when all her attention needed to remain focused on the men they were interviewing. A man approached the chair across
from them, turned it, straddled it, and braced his forearms along its back. He was ruggedly handsome, with broad shoulders and the roughened hands of a man who worked outdoors. He slid his hat from his head and gave a slight nod. “Ma’am.”

She smiled softly. “I’m Jessye Kane. This is Harrison Bainbridge.”

His grin revealed a dimple in his left cheek. “Dan Lincoln, but I’m hoping you won’t hold the name against me.”

“We won’t, Mr. Lincoln,” Harry said before Jessye could respond. “Have you herded cattle before?”

Dan Lincoln shifted his gaze away from Jessye to Harry. “Yes, sir. Before the war, I herded cattle to San Francisco. During the war, herded ’em east.”

Harry raised a brow. “So you were too cowardly to enlist?”

Jessye gasped. “Harry—”

“Confederate soldiers needed to eat,” Dan Lincoln cut in, his voice taut. “I saw to it that they did until July of ’63 when Grant took Vicksburg. He sliced the Confederacy in half. That’s when I enlisted.”

“You took cattle across the Mississippi?” Jessye asked.

Lincoln hesitated before gazing back at her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“That took a great deal of courage, Mr. Lincoln.”

“Yes, ma’am. Reckon it did. Many a man drowned in the Mississippi trying to get meat to the Confederacy. I dadgum guarantee you that I’m a strong swimmer.”

“That’s all well and good, Mr. Lincoln,” Harry said curtly, “but we don’t need swimmers. Thank you for
your time, but we can’t use your services.”

Lincoln narrowed his eyes and started to rise. Jessye laid her hand over his forearm. The strength she felt there astounded her. “Please wait.” She turned her attention to Harry. “May I speak to you outside for a moment?”

Harry tugged on his brocade vest. “Certainly, Jessye love.”

Clenching her teeth to keep from mouthing her thoughts, she stood and strode from the saloon. She heard Harry’s footsteps following as she rounded the corner into the alley between the saloon and the bathhouse. She swung around and faced him. “What are you doing?”

“I am attempting to hire some men to help us herd the cattle to Fortune.”

“Why didn’t you hire Dan Lincoln?”

“I didn’t like the man.”

“Why? Because he smiled at me? Harry, the men who herded cattle to the army during the war were some of the bravest this state produced. He’s exactly the kind we need on this trek. You’ve talked to over a dozen men and you’ve hired two. One is old enough to be my grandpa—”

“He has experience.”

“And the other is as homely as a sack of potatoes.”

“I don’t think we should judge a man’s abilities based on his looks.”

“You’re right. You can’t turn a man away because he’s handsome, has a nice smile, or his gaze drops to my bosom!”

“His gaze did more than drop. It lingered!”

Jessye laughed. “You’re jealous.”

“I am not jealous.”

“Would you hire Dan Lincoln if I wasn’t here?”

He pressed his lips into an invisible line, his jaw tightly clenched.

“Would you hire him?”

“Yes, damn it, but you are here. I am simply trying to protect you from scoundrels. I know one when I see him.”

“So do I. You know I’m not innocent, Harry.”

“You’ve had experience with one man. That does not make you a woman of the world.”

“But it makes me a woman who knows the cost of lifting her skirts for a man. It’s a price I’m not willing to pay ever again—no matter how attractive the smile, no matter how long a man stares at my bosom.” She wrapped her hand around his arm. “Don’t you understand that I invested my money in this venture because it will guarantee me the independence I’ve never truly had? A woman of poverty has to say no a thousand times. A woman of wealth has to say no only once to be heard. We have to hire the best if we want to meet with success. I’ve known failure. I don’t care to repeat the experience.”

He cradled her cheek, his gaze sweeping over her face. “There are moments when I wish to God that I wasn’t a scoundrel. We shall hire whomever you want, and I shall kill anyone who harms you.”

She watched him stride back to the saloon. And damn the man. He carried a portion of her heart with him.

A
soft glow spilled into the night from the
windows that circled the house. Harrison gave a hard knock on the door. It swung open, and he grinned at Grayson Rhodes. “Merry Christmas.”

Grayson took his hand and pulled him inside, into a large front room that smelled of cinnamon and apples. “You scoundrel, why didn’t you let us know you were coming?” He looked past Harrison, and his smile widened. “Jessye, come in.”

Harrison stepped aside so Jessye could enter.

Abbie rushed across the room and took Jessye within her arms. “You survived.”

Jessye laughed. “Barely.”

“Was it worth it?” Kit asked as he approached and handed them each a cup of warm apple cider.

Harrison dipped his head toward Jessye. “Tell him.”

She grinned like a child who had just discovered her Christmas stocking didn’t contain a lump of coal. “We just added a hundred and fifty head to the herd.”

“Do tell?”

She nodded. “And six men.”

“To the herd? How much do we get for them?”

Her face was aglow, her cheeks bright red. Harrison didn’t know if it was from the cold winds that had started to blow again or the excitement regarding their accomplishment. He only knew he wished he had the power to sustain the lust for life emanating through her at this moment. It was almost contagious, even for a soul as jaded as his.

“No, we hired six men. They’re outside—”

“Get them in here,” Grayson ordered. “It’s chilly out there.”

“We’re all a bit rank,” Harrison explained.

“What does that matter? It’s Christmas. Get them inside,” Grayson insisted.

“I’ll help ’em with their horses,” Magpie said as he peered around Kit.

“Magpie!” Jessye cried. “I didn’t see you standing there.”

“Didn’t want to impose on the homecomin’.”

“Enjoy your holiday, lad?” Harrison asked.

“If only he’d taken a holiday,” Kit said. “Every day, he searches for stragglers and strays from dawn until dusk. He seems to have a nose for finding them.”

“I just try to think like ’em is all.”

“That’s what Harry does,” Jessye said, grinning. “That’s how we found so many.”

Harrison stifled a groan. He’d preferred for his method to remain a secret. “Why don’t you get warm while I get the men?”

He ordered the men to take the horses to the barn and tend to their needs before they came into the house. Introductions were made. Grayson and Abbie’s home was not large, but the main room was comfort
ing. The candles flickering on the cedar tree in front of the window were responsible for the welcoming light he’d seen as they neared.

With the exception of Magpie, the men preferred quiet to gab. Jessye sat on the floor before the hearth, Abbie’s three children gathered around her as they proudly displayed the gifts they’d received for Christmas. Johnny was eight. He demonstrated a fishing pole that had a wooden contraption on it that allowed him to wind the string that held a hook at the end. Lydia, six, was placing a fabric doll in a wooden cradle. Micah, the youngest at five, was holding a wooden shield and blunt-tipped wooden sword.

“Care for something a bit stronger than apple cider?” Kit asked, extending a glass toward Harrison.

“Appreciate it.” He relished the sip of burning whiskey and tilted his head toward the children. “I didn’t think to bring gifts.”

“Not to worry. Your presence is gift enough.”

Harrison chuckled. “For you and Gray, perhaps, but not for the children. It suddenly dawned on me that this is our first Christmas away from England. I hadn’t expected to miss it.”

“Ah, yes. The grand halls, magnificent feasts, servants scurrying to answer our every beck and call, the pageantry. The hypocrisy of having so much and not appreciating any of it.”

“Is that why our fathers sent us here?”

“Perhaps. Do you know I think Gray made those toys?”

“You’re joking.”

“No, he has become quite the father. He adores
those children. You would think they were his,” Kit said.

Harrison glanced across the room to the far corner, where Grayson talked with his wife. Her hand moved to her slightly rounded stomach as she smiled. His hand covered hers, and he brushed a kiss across her lips.

Harrison returned his attention to the people before the hearth. Jessye watched the exchange with longing in her eyes, similar to what he’d seen the night she’d delivered the baby. Micah, the youngest boy, shoved his shield in front of her face. She laughed and hugged him.

He wondered if she thought of her own child every time she hugged one who belonged to someone else.

“So how did things go between you and Jessye this past month?” Kit asked.

“Things went…not well enough.”

“Has she decided you deserve to be a full partner?”

Harrison sliced his gaze to Kit. “That arrangement does not bother me. Why in the bloody hell must it drive you to distraction?”

“Because you deserve better.”

“So does she. She’s a remarkable woman, Kit.”

“Have you fallen in love with her?”

“Don’t be an ass.”

Kit nodded with an irritating smirk and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are these all the men you hired?”

“Yes. That Dan Lincoln is a good man, a natural leader. I think he would make an excellent choice for trail boss.”

“I’ll trust your judgment on that. We have over
nineteen hundred cattle. If we hire more men and continue to scour the countryside for the next two months, we should have an impressive herd to take north.”

“Impressive, yes.” Harrison studied the amber liquid in his glass. “Actually something did happen while we were away. Jessye delivered a baby.”

“Good God! She was with child? She didn’t look it.”

Harrison rolled his eyes. “No, you dolt. We came to a farm where a woman was in labor. Jessye helped deliver the baby.”

“Ah, well, that’s a different matter entirely, isn’t it?”

“Of course, it is. The dilemma, however, is that a bond developed between us that night that I can’t explain, a bond so strong that we’ve shared a bit of our pasts.”

“Danger lurks in secrets revealed.”

“Must you always be so damned philosophical? I’m trying to understand. All I know of love, I learned from you.”

“A shame, since my experience resulted in tragedy.”

“Still, I thought perhaps you could explain to me what I am unable to comprehend.”

“Love cannot be explained. It cannot be taught. It cannot even be understood, but when it touches you, when it takes hold of your heart and your soul…you are the better for it.” Kit’s gaze circled the room. “Perhaps you should try again to convince Jessye not to travel with us.”

“I could just as easily turn back the wind.”

Kit released a melancholy sigh. “You know, my trusted friend, it is not Jessye’s heart that concerns me, but yours. You have known the pain of hatred, but not the pain of love. It is far, far worse.”

“That’s just what I want to hear.”

“’Tis better to be forewarned than to be caught unawares.”