Sixteen

When Duel came in for supper that night, he held a surprise behind his back. Sweat lined his palms.

“Papa.” Marley Rose hugged his legs exuberantly.

“Hey, Two Bit.” He knelt and gave her a one-armed squeeze. She pursed her tiny lips expectantly for his kiss, which he gave. Much as Marley’s welcome warmed him, his mind was on other things tonight. He was relieved when, the greeting satisfied, the girl resumed her play.

A searching glance found that “other thing” in the kitchen. Jessie bustled between the table she’d just set to the cookstove. And when she bent to lift bread from the oven, his mouth became as dry as a creek bed in a drought.

Her shapely hips would fit his hands nicely. In fact, they seemed made for that exact purpose. His hand tightened around the posies still hidden by his backside. In what he hoped was a casual stroll, although it felt more like a lope, he moved toward her.

“Evenin’, Jess.”

“Duel… I thought Marley Rose had kept you occupied at the door.” Her breathless answer raised his brow. He couldn’t imagine the reason for her short-windedness.

“Have a nice day?” The room seemed extraordinarily hot.

“The usual.” Jessie brushed back a tendril of hair that had slipped from the ribbon at the nape of her neck. “Supper’s almost ready. Venison stew and hot bread.”

A streak of flour on the end of her nose and across her cheek drove him wild. He reached to wipe it off.

He sniffed. “What’s that I smell?”

“Sweet-potato pie.”

“My favorite.” Duel brought the flowers forward with a flourish. “For you, Jess.”

A pink blush spread prettily across her cheeks. “Oh, Duel.” She buried her nose in the bouquet of bluebonnets, Indian paintbrush, and pink wine-cups. Then she promptly sneezed.

“Bless you.” Everyone sneezed from time to time, he thought.

Again she sneezed as she reached for a glass and filled it with water. “Aaachoo.”

Perhaps posies weren’t such a grand idea? “Bless you again.”

“I’m sorry. I’m—” Another sneeze completed her sentence.

Marley Rose babbled excitedly and clapped her hands, showing her appreciation for the colorful blossoms. Duel lifted her into her chair.

“Yes, sweetie, very—” Jessie set them in the center of the table just as another sneeze erupted. She hurriedly reached into her apron pocket for a handkerchief.

Duel stood helplessly. He’d committed another blunder.

“Jess?”

Blowing her nose, Jessie gave him a big smile. “The flowers are beautiful. It’s so thoughtful.” She slipped the handkerchief back into her pocket.

In between sneezes, she brought the pot of stew and bread to the table.

“Sit down, Duel.” She sent him an expectant look as she took her place beside Marley Rose. She reached for the knife and loaf of bread.

“Are the posies doing this to you?”

“Good heavens, no.” She smothered her mouth when another sneeze overtook her.

“Appears that way.” He filled Marley’s plate with a good helping of thick, mouthwatering stew, cutting the meat into tiny pieces for her. “There you go, Two Bit. Eat up.”

Jessie handed him a slice of bread and put one on Marley’s plate before she sneezed again.

He reached for the offending flowers. “I’ll throw them outside.”

“You’ll do no such thing!” Jessie snatched them. Water sloshed down the front of her apron as she clutched the flowers to her bosom. “It’s the nicest present anyone ever gave me.”

Duel had trouble believing that a bunch of limp wildflowers that brought fits of sneezing numbered at the top of Jessie’s list of best gifts. He had trouble, too, with the sparkling jewels her blue eyes had become. The forced swallow wasn’t from the big bite of stew he’d taken.

“I saw Yellow Dog come up to Marley Rose today.” Changing the subject might help the situation.

“I wasn’t sure what the dog was up to, but I knew he’d not harm Marley.” Jessie put the bouquet back on the table out of his long reach.

“Wish I’d shared your faith. Nearly gave Pop and me a heart attack.”

“You worry too much, Duel. Where’s your trust?”

“Right here.” He covered her hand with his and could barely contain his joy when she gave him a brilliant smile.

Patience, he reminded himself, encouraged by her actions. One bunch of posies did not a courtship make. Time to change tactics. Next time he’d make darn sure his gift wouldn’t cause any ill effects.

* * *

Saturday found Jessie in town for some shopping. Engrossed in perusing the array of piece goods, she scarcely heard the bell over the door of Tranquility’s only mercantile store. She moved on to a row of bonnets.

“Mrs. McClain, how nice to see you again.” Hampton Pierson made a beeline for her.

Jessie groaned inwardly and replaced on the shelf the lace and flowered bonnet she’d been admiring. Her pleasant day in town had just turned gloomy. So much for the leisurely shopping she and Duel had indulged in after leaving Marley Rose at the Austin house to play with her cousins.

“Afternoon, Mr. Pierson.” She searched the store for her husband. Last time she saw him he’d been haggling with Mr. Dexter over the price of cartridges for his gun.

Hampton leaned against a counter cluttered with jars of pickles, licorice, and gumdrops. “That divine creation would look mighty handsome on you, ma’am. Perfect match for your lovely eyes.”

“I’m merely passing time while waiting for my husband.” She prayed he’d leave before Duel saw him. Funny that she’d not noticed the night of Vicky’s party how the man waved his conceited good looks under her nose. “It’s much too expensive, and besides, I’ve no place to wear a bonnet that fancy.”

“I’d be honored to purchase it for you, Jessie. Consider it a token of my—”

“Consider this, you womanizer.” Duel stepped from behind a stack of wool blankets and slammed his fist into Hampton’s jaw, catapulting the man to the floor.

“Duel!” Horrified, Jessie pressed her hand to her mouth.

“The lady’s my wife, Pierson.” He drew back again, aiming to take another swing, but Jessie caught his arm.

“Please, Duel.”

“It’ll pay you to remember that.”

“I do declare, McClain.”

Hampton rose to a sitting position and dabbed at his bloodied nose. She didn’t know how the man could be so calm.

He dusted the dirt from his impeccable white shirt, meeting Duel’s glare with bland humor.

“You misunderstand my intentions—”

“Your intentions are perfectly clear. Stay away from her if you know what’s good for you.”

Pure venom laced Duel’s warning. Despite the warm, sunny rays streaming through the smudged window, Jessie couldn’t prevent the shiver that raced through her.

I own you, Jessie. You’ll never be free of me. You wear the Diamond J brand now. Everyone will know you belong to me.

Jeremiah’s hate appeared without warning, accompanied by the putrid smell of seared flesh. Nausea rose up into her throat. Would the day ever come when she would no longer be considered a man’s property? Had she merely traded one intolerable situation for another?

The glare she sent Duel could have withered the most hardy fruit on the vine. Then she spun on her heels and hurried from the establishment.

“Jess?”

She paid no heed to his call. Nor did she stop when he fell into step beside her. They passed the wagon where Preacher eyed them and passed the church where they’d spoken their vows.

Finally, Duel took her arm. They stopped under the shade of an elm tree at the edge of town.

“Jess, I’d apologize if I knew what the hell I was apologizing for. What did I do now to get your dander up?”

With hands on her hips, she faced him.

“Duel McClain, get one thing clear. I am not anyone’s property—not yours, not Jeremiah’s—no one’s.” Her voice broke. “I wear one man’s brand for all eternity; I’ll not wear another’s.”

“Oh, Jess, that’s not what I’m about. Don’t you know by now I’d never do a thing to hurt you? Or let anyone else?”

“Not all brands are visible, but they’re burned on just the same.” When she needed a firm, loud voice to drive her point home, her voice betrayed her. The words came out in a raspy whisper.

Jessie didn’t resist when he pulled her into his arms. Her face pressed against his broad chest, she marveled at the wild, furious beating of his heart. It was the kind of panic that came when a person was scared and running like the devil.

“I was only protecting you, Jess,” he murmured into her hair, “protecting you against the Jeremiahs and the Hampton Piersons of this world. Don’t you see?”

“Protecting is one thing. Obsessing is something else altogether.”

“I don’t want to own you. You’re not a slave. Sure, I told him you were my wife ’cause you are, and I’m not about to share you with any other man. I want you, all right?”

Her own heart began a frenzied drumbeat. Warm, safe, protected, she let her body melt against his strength.

“I thank the good Lord each morning that He saw fit to put two beautiful ladies in my care.” He lightly touched the curve of her back. “When I think of my life before…”

A shudder ran the length of his muscular form, reminding Jessie of how Yellow Dog felt that night she bound his wounds.

A beautiful lady? No one had ever made the mistake of using those words to describe her.

What makes you think you deserve a new dress? Jeremiah had pitched a shapeless sack at her when she’d asked him for a length of material to sew one. You think new clothes will make you pretty? Who put that idea in your head? Look at your hair, your scrawny frame. You’re ugly and don’t forget it. She never had. She never would.

The man had raised his fist and laughed when she cowered into a frightened ball. After that, she’d never asked her husband for another thing, merely dreamt of freedom.

Even though Duel looked at her sometimes like she was special. Even though he’d picked her wildflowers. And even though he’d just knocked a man on his backside, that didn’t put her in the “beautiful” category.

“Mr. Pierson’s a pest, I admit, and certainly preens like a peacock around town, but he’s harmless.” Jessie shifted her feet, and Duel released his hold, allowing her to draw away.

“The nerve of Pierson buying my wife a bonnet—or anything else, for that matter! But I did fly off the handle a little.” He had the grace to look sheepish.

“That’s calling a jackass a mule.” Jessie smiled, recalling the shocked expression on Hampton’s face when he saw Duel. She guessed he hadn’t heard her say she was waiting for her husband. “I could’ve dealt with the situation if you’d given me the chance.”

“Someone has to teach Pierson a little respect.”

His gruff tone hid a big heart.

“And that lot fell to you?”

“If need be.” He lifted a lock of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “It has nothing to do with owning you. And I’m not doubting your ability to take care of Hampton.” He took a deep breath. “Certain obligations come with the marriage territory. Things such as duty and honor…and respecting your spouse.”

“Then it’s some chivalrous notion? Nothing remotely connected with men’s proprietary rights?” Why was her stomach turning somersaults, her breathing fast and heavy?

He leaned close, never considering what his nearness did to her. Never realizing the turmoil he caused. She briefly wondered if his heart still raced as it had when she’d laid her head against it.

“Not even a smidgen.”

“Afternoon, Duel. Mrs. McClain.” Charlotte Brown strolled by, twirling a parasol above her head to block the sun’s rays, and smiling.

Duel smiled and tipped his hat. “Good day, Mrs. Brown.”

He waited until the nosy woman moved on. “The privilege of keeping you safe makes me feel special. Remember that day on the cliff?”

“How could I ever forget? I live with that moment.”

“I promised to not let anything happen to you. A McClain promise. By all that’s holy, I mean to keep my word.”

Charlie Maxfield, with Jane by his side, rode past. Both strained their eyes to see what was happening beneath the elm tree. A cloud of dust caused by their surrey covered Duel and Jessie.

“Damn! Word must already have spread. Looks like everyone in the county’s come to ogle us.” He waved his arms furiously to fan away the grit.

“Surely they can’t have heard about you and Hampton Pierson this fast?”

“You haven’t lived in Tranquility before.” When he bent his head, his lips brushed her ear, making tingles scamper down her neck.

He stood much too close. Jessie swayed. His arm lent support for her buckling legs. The naughty tingles reached her knees as his breath fluttered against her ear.

“But, sweetheart, never in a million years will I apologize for knocking Pierson on his rear.”

She felt feverish from the warmth of his nearness, the unexpected endearment, the amber lights dancing in his eyes, and his tender smile that smoothed the rough edges of his chiseled features. Not in this lifetime had she known a man like Duel McClain.

“Confound it, Jess. I just can’t think of you as my sister.”

Barely had the strangled declaration slipped from his lips when he dipped his head and captured her mouth with his.