to the clouds if she didn’t. “Well, she ain’t dead, and Rolly is.”
Redd didn’t hesitate to roll his eyes. “I’ll say it again. What a gentleman.”
“Her man rescued her, and lightning got Rolly. As for Butter Creek, I don’t deny we...did some business there.” Jessy Belle’s voice, still nearly silent, steadied and strained. For a flash, Redd reminded himself of her sad circumstance yesterday, but fury outdid any softness. “But killing wasn’t among it. Trust me, Redd. You got to. That Christmas, Ahab gave me my first dress.” She ran her fingers up and down the calico. “After we all got shot up at the Canadian River. That’s when I...I decided to become respectable.”
“Took you long enough. It’s September. Truth is, Sister Adelaide’s got Pinkertons on the case, and you been lying from the start. Soon as you opened your eyes. Who might I believe? A grown up nun or fake one? An outlaw girl to boot.”
“‘Course I lied.” She had a coughing fit, then settled herself. Spoke as loud as she was able. “You might have been the law. Or friend of the law. Besides which, Ahab has allies everywhere. When he’s around, the hills have eyes. Trees grow ears. I had to be careful.”
He sputtered, hurt. “I’m carrying goods for a passel of nuns. And you still thought ill of me?”
“No.” Jessy Belle turned from him. She was quiet so long a dust devil came alive a half mile down the road and died before she spoke again. “No. I fell in love with you.”
In love? Redd tried to turn his heart to stone. Another typhoon of dust rose as he kicked the post. ’Course her words couldn’t help move him, just a little. She was beautiful, and he’d felt stabs of desire for her more than once. But she was a dissembler. How could he ever believe anything from that pretty outlaw mouth?
“Ain’t love, Miz Jessy Belle.” Cleeland Redd told her the truth. “Just gratitude at getting rescued.”
“Nobody’s ever been kind to me before.” Her nose pointed up to the sky. “But I know how I feel.”
Nobody’s ever been kind to her before? He frowned. At least he’d had Ma. And Tawana. But before he could think too hard on any more of this subject, something he’d forgotten poked his belly, and he recalled the stick from her dug-up grave. He dug in a vest pocket and held it out to her. Brought himself back to the reality of dealing with an outlaw woman who couldn’t be believed or trusted.
“Reckon this belongs to you. Take it.”
Chapter Five
Jessy Belle knew what it was right off. Dagnab, she’d carved the thing herself. Her grave marker. The skin down her spine all but crawled off the bone.
“Take it.” Redd said again. Harsh. His tone set more gooseflesh rising, but she didn’t obey him. She might love him, was certain she did, but those days were over, letting some man order her around.
“I said, take it. Found this under a juniper tree. And a dug-up empty grave.” He didn’t sound like himself at all. “Thought you might identify it.”
Jessy Belle choked hard but hoped he didn’t notice, and took the stick from his hand after a short time of defying him. She saw something else fixed on the stick. Her heart slammed against her ribs like it wanted to bust them. She’d had no part in slashing these particular letters against the wood.
And neither had her brother, the ignorant fool.
Dread all but swamped her like the sweat had when she found herself dying. Shaking her head, shaking hard, she ran off to the gathering room to the one friend she had.
Or prayed she had. A friend to whom she now brought danger. Instead, she headed for the stable. Ornery old Blossom would do better than nothing to get her out of here, leave the nuns far behind before Ahab came to lay ruin. The pearls slapped against her ankles as she ran.
Tonight, in the deep darkness while everybody else slept, she’d steal Blossom. Like she’d done a hundred others.
But Teresa had gone ahead of her, was
Redd didn’t hesitate to roll his eyes. “I’ll say it again. What a gentleman.”
“Her man rescued her, and lightning got Rolly. As for Butter Creek, I don’t deny we...did some business there.” Jessy Belle’s voice, still nearly silent, steadied and strained. For a flash, Redd reminded himself of her sad circumstance yesterday, but fury outdid any softness. “But killing wasn’t among it. Trust me, Redd. You got to. That Christmas, Ahab gave me my first dress.” She ran her fingers up and down the calico. “After we all got shot up at the Canadian River. That’s when I...I decided to become respectable.”
“Took you long enough. It’s September. Truth is, Sister Adelaide’s got Pinkertons on the case, and you been lying from the start. Soon as you opened your eyes. Who might I believe? A grown up nun or fake one? An outlaw girl to boot.”
“‘Course I lied.” She had a coughing fit, then settled herself. Spoke as loud as she was able. “You might have been the law. Or friend of the law. Besides which, Ahab has allies everywhere. When he’s around, the hills have eyes. Trees grow ears. I had to be careful.”
He sputtered, hurt. “I’m carrying goods for a passel of nuns. And you still thought ill of me?”
“No.” Jessy Belle turned from him. She was quiet so long a dust devil came alive a half mile down the road and died before she spoke again. “No. I fell in love with you.”
In love? Redd tried to turn his heart to stone. Another typhoon of dust rose as he kicked the post. ’Course her words couldn’t help move him, just a little. She was beautiful, and he’d felt stabs of desire for her more than once. But she was a dissembler. How could he ever believe anything from that pretty outlaw mouth?
“Ain’t love, Miz Jessy Belle.” Cleeland Redd told her the truth. “Just gratitude at getting rescued.”
“Nobody’s ever been kind to me before.” Her nose pointed up to the sky. “But I know how I feel.”
Nobody’s ever been kind to her before? He frowned. At least he’d had Ma. And Tawana. But before he could think too hard on any more of this subject, something he’d forgotten poked his belly, and he recalled the stick from her dug-up grave. He dug in a vest pocket and held it out to her. Brought himself back to the reality of dealing with an outlaw woman who couldn’t be believed or trusted.
“Reckon this belongs to you. Take it.”
Chapter Five
Jessy Belle knew what it was right off. Dagnab, she’d carved the thing herself. Her grave marker. The skin down her spine all but crawled off the bone.
“Take it.” Redd said again. Harsh. His tone set more gooseflesh rising, but she didn’t obey him. She might love him, was certain she did, but those days were over, letting some man order her around.
“I said, take it. Found this under a juniper tree. And a dug-up empty grave.” He didn’t sound like himself at all. “Thought you might identify it.”
Jessy Belle choked hard but hoped he didn’t notice, and took the stick from his hand after a short time of defying him. She saw something else fixed on the stick. Her heart slammed against her ribs like it wanted to bust them. She’d had no part in slashing these particular letters against the wood.
And neither had her brother, the ignorant fool.
Dread all but swamped her like the sweat had when she found herself dying. Shaking her head, shaking hard, she ran off to the gathering room to the one friend she had.
Or prayed she had. A friend to whom she now brought danger. Instead, she headed for the stable. Ornery old Blossom would do better than nothing to get her out of here, leave the nuns far behind before Ahab came to lay ruin. The pearls slapped against her ankles as she ran.
Tonight, in the deep darkness while everybody else slept, she’d steal Blossom. Like she’d done a hundred others.
But Teresa had gone ahead of her, was
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