Chapter Twenty-Five
Upstairs, Jenny found the fur pelts papa always piled on them when he took them out in the cutter. The small sleigh was built for two, but the four of them managed to squeeze in. With the furs, warm bricks at their feet and scarves covering their faces, they always enjoyed a brisk ride in the sleigh. The memories were bittersweet. Rather than dwelling on her loss and being mired in grief, she pushed those thoughts aside and with arms piled high, went back downstairs to wait for Heath.
Staring out the front window thirty minutes later, she wondered what was keeping him. Hooking one horse to a small sleigh took only minutes. Maybe Baron wasn’t as keen for the job as Heath had predicted. Another half hour dragged by before Jenny went tramping through the snow, tired of waiting and worrying, to find out what was amiss. The snow was at least four inches deep now; she followed his footsteps to keep the snow from getting inside her half-boots. It didn’t work as well as planned, however, because some were covered already where the snow had drifted.
Approaching the rear door, she found Baron standing outside, his reins loose and dragging in the snow. He’d wandered over to a group of trees, which protected him from the brisk wind and steadily falling snow—smart horse. This wasn’t a good sign, however. Heath was too careful with his horses to let them wander free, especially in a blizzard. Gathering up his reins, Jenny led him to the barn.
Frowning as she passed through the open doors, she wrapped Baron’s ribbons around the top board of a stall and turned, looking for her husband. He wasn’t anywhere to be found. The gate to the storage room where the sleigh was stored was closed. She headed that way to see if he was inside. In the dim light, she tripped over something in the hay that sent her flying. Hands thrown protectively out in front, she braced herself as she fell headlong into a pile of loose hay. As she raised up, picking bits of hay out of her mouth, she shrieked as she caught sight of a familiar pair of black boots on the other side of the open fencing. He lay motionless. Scrambling toward him, she sank to her knees at his side, fear shooting straight to her heart at the blood trickling from his hairline.
“Heath,” she called as she gingerly brushed back his hair to inspect the damage. He still didn’t move. Knowing the barn had been cleaned out of all but a few pieces of heavy equipment, she knew the emergency medical supplies they kept for the men and the horses were long gone. She raised her skirt and tore off a strip of her petticoat instead. Tearing it in half, she rushed to the door, scooped up a handful of snow and wrapped it in cotton, making a cold compress.
She was back by his side the next instant and holding the icy cold cloth to his head. “Please, God,” she prayed softly, “let him wake up.”
An answering groan made her bow her head in thanks.
“Damn.” His hand came to his head; when his fingers grazed the wound, he hissed. “It feels like a mule kicked me in the head.” Upon seeing the blood, he cursed, “Goddammit.”
Jenny hoped his irreverence wouldn’t negate her recent efforts. Feeling sure he’d be forgiven considering the circumstances, she said another quick prayer on his behalf, just in case.
She watched with relief as his brown eyes blinked open. “Lie still, honey. You took a nasty blow to the head.”
“How long was I out?”
“I don’t know, but you were gone from the house for at least an hour. I got worried and came looking. When I found Baron loose and the doors wide open, I knew something was wrong.”
He sat up, holding his head with both hands as he released another long groan.
“Slowly, so you don’t black out again.”
His head came up and he looked around, blinking and rubbing his eyes, as if trying to focus. He squinted at the floor a few feet away. Jenny’s eyes followed and she saw why she’d tripped.
“Looks like someone bashed me with that shovel. There’s blood on it.” He pushed to his feet despite Jenny’s protests. “I’m lucky he didn’t crush my skull and scramble my brains.”
When he was upright, he swayed a little.
“Heath! You shouldn’t be standing yet.”
His arm came around her shoulders, squeezing her and using her for support at the same time. “I’m fine. The double vision is clearing and the bells and train whistles blaring in my ears have almost died down.”
“Sweet Jesus!” she cried. “You need to see Doc. Lie back down.”
“Bad joke. Sorry, sweetheart. At least the latter half was. I did see two of you for a minute, but that’s gone. A bit of a headache is all that’s left.”
She sighed in relief, but then frowned at him, swatting at his shoulder, very gently. “How can you joke about something so serious? I was frantic.”
Holding her close, he pressed his lips against her hair and murmured, “It wasn’t well done of me to scare you even more. Forgive me?”
“I suppose I have to. I’ve already told you I love you, you big insensitive lug.”
He chuckled, but it ended abruptly when he groaned. “Don’t be cute and make me laugh. It jars my head.”
“Who would do this?”
“Someone taking shelter from the storm, most likely. I probably spooked him when I came in.” Letting her go, he walked to the door. She was glad to see he was steadier now.
“Huh,” he grunted as he stared down at the snow-covered ground. “Did you see anyone leaving?”
Her curiosity spiked, she joined him in the doorway. “No. Why? What do you see?”
“Footprints, a lot more than ours and Baron’s.” He crouched and studied them closely. “At least four, I’d guess.” His arm swung wide, pointing toward the trail that led to the back acreage and the ridge beyond. “See where they mounted and rode away?”
“They had to have been criminals to have hit you in the head with a shovel.”
“Agreed. Not to belabor the point, but this is precisely why I didn’t want you coming here by yourself. It also means we need to find a tenant soon to take over the farm so this doesn’t happen again.”
“George.” His name burst out at the same time the idea popped in her head.
“George?”
“Yes, the friend I went to see. Oh, Heath, wait until you hear what happened—”
“Tell me on the way home, darlin’. If we don’t head out now, we won’t be able to.”
He had Baron hitched up in no time, stopping only once for Jenny to wipe the blood from where it trickled from the gash in his scalp. She fretted that they needed to go to town and let Doc or Janelle take a look, but he quashed that idea, assuring her that head wounds were notorious for bleeding freely and that it likely looked worse than it actually was.
Heath boosted Jenny up and followed in behind her. He set off at a brisk pace that the saddle horse took to surprisingly well. She commented on the fact.
“That’s why we breed quarter horses,” Heath replied with pride. “Strong, quick, agile, there’s no other horse we’d have for a stock horse on the ranch. They have an excellent disposition too. Baron didn’t bat an eye over being hitched to the sleigh. By tomorrow, he’ll happily head up the mountain and help me corral any strays that get lost in the snow.”
“Tomorrow you need to stay in bed and rest your head.”
“No need to worry, sweetheart. I’m a Jackson, which means I have a cast iron head. I’ve taken a hoof that rung my bell worse than that shovel.”
“Good gracious, Heath, it’s a wonder you have any sense left at all.”
Further conversation ceased as the wind kicked up, whipping across the plateau from the west, straight down from the Snowy Range. As Henry predicted, they were being dumped on. In near white-out conditions by the time they reached the Jackson stables, Heath followed the barely visible path to the back. Several hands came to lead Baron inside after Heath lifted Jenny down.
“All three of you look frozen solid,” Calvin, his stable manager said as he came out to greet them.
“If not all the way through, at least by half,” Heath replied, moving Jenny quickly toward the warmth of the stable. Once inside, she dusted off her snow-covered coat while Heath knocked at least two inches from the brim of his Stetson. “It’s rough going to say the least. Have you seen Will?”
“He rode in with Frank before the snow started in heavy. Since you and the missus weren’t home, he took him on to the big house for the night.”
Heath turned to her. “We’ll likely be measuring this snowfall in feet, rather than inches. I’ll be busy for days. Would you rather stay with Will and ma at the main house? I know you’re cold, but I’d feel better if you weren’t in the cabin all by yourself.”
She nodded around her chattering teeth. “Do you have something else I can wear?”
He guided her over to the coal stove to warm herself. “Wait here.”
Disappearing down the long hall to the bunkhouse, he returned in minutes with dry clothes and a coat much like his own. Motioning her to follow, he opened the door to one of the tack rooms. “Shuck off those wet duds,” he ordered once inside, then began sorting through the pile of clothes.
“In here?” Jenny looked at the door. “Does that door have a lock? Anyone could come in.”
“No one is coming in knowing we’re inside. Strip.”
“Heath.”
He lit an oil lamp on a hook on the wall and turned to her, waiting. When she didn’t move, with a sigh he said, “Here, let me help you. There’ll be a foot out there at the pace you’re going.”
She watched him make short work of the small buttons, noting that his big hands moved deftly in the dim light and the cold. Probably because he’d had so much practice undressing her of late. When she was stripped to her chemise, corset, and drawers, he started to pull those off too, but she took a step back.
“It’s freezing and we’re in the middle of a crowded stable. You can’t possibly mean to strip me bare.”
“You can’t wear your damp underthings, Jenny.” He brushed her hands aside despite her objections and soon had everything else off.
She enjoyed the nurturing, caretaking side of her husband, but sometimes it was overdone, like now. Irritated, she cast a fierce look his way.
“Quit glaring at me.” He dropped a soft flannel shirt over her head, which emerged amidst a crackle of static as her hair stood on end. Half-numb, she struggled to poke her arms through the too-long sleeves, giving up with a grumble when she couldn’t find the holes in the yards of fabric. He easily guided her stiff arms through while scolding her gently. “Be good and help me, darlin’, so I can get you somewhere warm and dry.”
The shirt slid down past her knees, but she felt warmer. She suddenly felt petty for acting so mulish when he was only trying to help. “I’m sorry, Heath. I’m tired, cold, and irritable.”
He only murmured “Mm-hm,” while chafing his hands on her arms briskly for a moment before holding out a pair of borrowed britches. “Hold onto my shoulders and step in.”
“Are you still angry with me?”
“No, you had your punishment, and then some.”
Remembering what the ‘and then some’ entailed, she nearly choked on her quickly indrawn breath.
“I’m not angry anymore, sweetheart, but I am in a hurry. I want you safely tucked in with ma before I head out to work in this mess. Now, step in.”
When she complied, he gave her an easy smile as he fastened up her pants. Three sizes too big, they swallowed her.
“Who do these belong to, Paul Bunyan?”
He smiled, eying the baggy britches and voluminous shirt. “Cal’s son Jeffrey, he’s fourteen. I thought they would fit you better than they do.”
“I look ridiculous, don’t I?”
“Nope. Cute as a bug’s ear, like always.” He held out the coat for her, chuckling when she stuck out her arm and at least six inches of loose material flapped over the tips of her fingers. Finally, after folding the cuffs back several times, her fingers appeared and she slid one arm in, but when she twisted to slide in the other, her giant pants fell straight to her ankles.
Throwing his head back, Heath laughed out right, the sound booming off the walls of the small room. Not seeing the humor of her predicament, she scowled at him as she bent to retrieve her enormous britches. Hoisting them up, she held them in a wad of material at her waist. As his laughter continued, his shoulders shaking, holding his belly as if it hurt, it struck her anew how very handsome he was. His lips curved upward revealing his straight white teeth and the fine lines that bracketed his eyes and mouth. He was captivating, and although it was at her expense, his amusement was contagious. Jenny found her lips twitching and in a few seconds ended up giggling right along with him.
At last he stopped, reaching behind her and grabbing a leather strap from a hook. It was wide and had a buckle on the end. “Sorry, darlin’, but the look on your face was hilarious.” Another wave of laughter broke free, although not as robust as he wrapped the strap around her waist and cinched it tight, like a belt. Far from fashionable, at least it would keep her borrowed britches around her waist where they were intended to be.
Back to business, shoes and socks followed. The next moment, he was tugging her along behind him, barking orders to saddle a fresh horse. Several steps ahead of his boss, the manager had one standing at the ready. Heath plunked her down astride the saddle thanks to the benefit of her borrowed pants. After he swung up behind her, he accepted a fur robe from Calvin and tucked it around her so she was covered from head to toe.
“Stay under there, Jenny. The storm is building and I want to make it to the main house before it hits full force. I’m gonna ride fast, so hang on.”
He wheeled the horse and they were off. Jenny clung to his big body, curling into it willingly for warmth. She didn’t say a word after that, not wanting to distract him while he navigated their way in a blizzard. Sooner than expected, he called, “we’re here,” shouting to be heard over the whistling wind. He slipped from the saddle and pulled her down into his arms, carrying her through the crunching snow and up the steps.
When he set her down, she threw off the fur and found herself in Letty’s toasty warm kitchen.
“Dear heavens,” her mother-in-law exclaimed as she rushed in from the other room. “You two look like snowmen. Get those wet things off and get warm.”
“I’ll take a cup of coffee, if you got it, ma. Then I need to head out. Where are pa and Luke?”
“Herding strays, of course. Do you need dry clothes?”
“I’ve got a change upstairs, but Jenny will need to borrow some things.” He called this over his shoulder as he climbed the back stairs, taking them at a run.
“He’s not kidding,” Jenny stated as she pulled off her coat. Letty, and Will who had come in behind her, both stared openmouthed at her bedraggled state. Then they both howled in laughter. They were still cackling when Heath came back down.
“I see you’ve met my ragamuffin. I picked her up along the side of the road. She looked so cute in a rumpled, tousled sort of way, I couldn’t resist.”
“Ha-ha,” Jenny returned and deadpanned, “He’s such a jokester. In fact, he’s heading off with a traveling troupe next week. I hear he has quite an act planned and is slated to follow the jugglers, right before the bearded lady and the mimes.”
“Truly, Heath?” Will asked, wide-eyed. “That sounds like great fun. Can I come along?”
Letty and Heath looked at each other, then broke into laughter as Jenny shook her head at her gullible little brother.
“I was teasing, Will.”
“Oh.” His shoulders slumped in disappointment.
Still chuckling, Heath crossed to Jenny and wrapped his arm around her neck, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Behave.”
“You started it.”
“What are you, two?”
“I’m twenty-one in three days, but I’m worried about you. Going out in this weather at your advanced age could be dangerous. Shall I fetch your walking stick, gramps? Maybe give you a leg up on your horse? I know. I’ll get the liniment for your rheumatism.”
Her voice was sweet, but laced with sarcasm as she winked at Will to make it clear she was only teasing. Letty smiled at their playful banter. Heath turned his head until he could whisper in her ear, “Fetch that stick, sassy girl, and see if I test it out on your rear end. I dare you.”
“Heath,” she gasped. “I was only teasing.”
“I know, darlin’. So was I.” He took her fully into his arms and bent his head close. “Give me a kiss to keep me warm while I’m away.”
Lifting her face to his, her breathy whisper fell softly over his lips. “Stay safe, honey, and hurry home.”
The kiss that followed wasn’t at all appropriate for the kitchen or appreciated by the eight-year-old boy who made gagging noises nearby the entire time. When Heath managed to pull himself free, he ruffled Will’s hair and was gone.