I talk to him?”
“He’s not here.” She couldn’t have put it into words, since the youngster didn’t strike her as dangerous or intimidating, but she wasn’t sorry to send him on his way. Desta sensed something was off here, even if she couldn’t distinguish the cause. “You’ll have to talk to Tucker Carmichael. Ask for him at the stables or even in the mess hall. He’s in charge while Mr. Culpepper’s away.”
“Away?” The voice sharpened in distress, losing any pretense of a low rumble and exposing the speaker as even younger than Desta imagined. “For how long? When will he be back?”
“Talk to Tucker, child.” She stepped back to close the door. Desta knew Tucker wouldn’t take on the youngster, but he’d give him a dry spot to sleep tonight and a meal or two to fill him up before sending him down the line.
“I can’t.” The voice sounded so small, so lost, it made her pause. “It has to be Edward.”
“Why?” In spite of herself, Desta opened the door wider. She gasped as the stranger reached up and jerked the Stetson away, letting a long, thick golden braid fall over her shoulder.
“Because …” Lonesome brown eyes blinked back tears as she confessed, “He’s my brother.”
“Jessalyn?” The black woman breathed her name so softly that at first Jess wasn’t sure she’d heard right. Then the woman let out a whoop, flung herself through the door, and just about smothered her in a joyous hug. “Praise the good Lord, if it ain’t little Miss Jessalyn, come home at last!”
Taken completely off guard, Jess stood stock-still, unable to return the embrace or end it. Everything about this was
wrong
. Papa dead, Ed gone away, and her only welcome after seven years came from a complete stranger. The bone-deep chill she’d warded away with hopes of home seeped toward her soul, streaked with disappointment and jealousy. Just who was this woman who guarded
her
father’s house, knew her name, and greeted her like a long-lost loved one?
“Yes.” She drew away from the suddenly suffocating clasp. “And you are?”
“Oh, but you wouldn’t know about me.” The woman took a step back, far more subdued as her eyes flickered over Jess’s face without meeting her gaze. “I was yore daddy’s housekeeper.”
“Right.” She’d committed all of Papa’s letters to memory, and now Jess remembered. The very fact that he’d told her helped Jess feel less cut off from the Bar None and more comfortable accepting the woman’s welcome. She dredged up a small smile. “Desta. I do know about you.”
“You do?” Startled, her eyes went so wide Jess could see white all the way around.
“Papa wrote me when you came to the ranch,” she elaborated somewhat defensively. The housekeeper’s surprise made her feel her role of outsider, as did the humiliating recollection that she’d written Papa back, telling him he didn’t need a housekeeper if he just brought her home. She’d promised to take good care of him and the rest of the Bar None, but he’d firmly maintained she was too young. Six years later, she stood on the stoop, trying to explain herself to the woman who’d served as her replacement without revealing how heart-sore the whole thing made her.
“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you from his description so long ago. It’s a bit of a shock… .”
Understanding dawned on her face, and she broke in, “He didn’t tell you I was black?”
Nettled that the housekeeper thought that would matter so much, Jess shook her head. “It’s not the sort of thing he’d bother mentioning. I’m thrown off by Ed’s absence. Somehow I didn’t imagine I’d get all the way out here and not see him right away. It’s been a long journey.”
“And a long overdue one.” The woman shook her head as though in remorse then snapped to attention as though just realizing Jess still stood out in the rain. She reached out and all but dragged Jess through the door, clucking like a
“He’s not here.” She couldn’t have put it into words, since the youngster didn’t strike her as dangerous or intimidating, but she wasn’t sorry to send him on his way. Desta sensed something was off here, even if she couldn’t distinguish the cause. “You’ll have to talk to Tucker Carmichael. Ask for him at the stables or even in the mess hall. He’s in charge while Mr. Culpepper’s away.”
“Away?” The voice sharpened in distress, losing any pretense of a low rumble and exposing the speaker as even younger than Desta imagined. “For how long? When will he be back?”
“Talk to Tucker, child.” She stepped back to close the door. Desta knew Tucker wouldn’t take on the youngster, but he’d give him a dry spot to sleep tonight and a meal or two to fill him up before sending him down the line.
“I can’t.” The voice sounded so small, so lost, it made her pause. “It has to be Edward.”
“Why?” In spite of herself, Desta opened the door wider. She gasped as the stranger reached up and jerked the Stetson away, letting a long, thick golden braid fall over her shoulder.
“Because …” Lonesome brown eyes blinked back tears as she confessed, “He’s my brother.”
“Jessalyn?” The black woman breathed her name so softly that at first Jess wasn’t sure she’d heard right. Then the woman let out a whoop, flung herself through the door, and just about smothered her in a joyous hug. “Praise the good Lord, if it ain’t little Miss Jessalyn, come home at last!”
Taken completely off guard, Jess stood stock-still, unable to return the embrace or end it. Everything about this was
wrong
. Papa dead, Ed gone away, and her only welcome after seven years came from a complete stranger. The bone-deep chill she’d warded away with hopes of home seeped toward her soul, streaked with disappointment and jealousy. Just who was this woman who guarded
her
father’s house, knew her name, and greeted her like a long-lost loved one?
“Yes.” She drew away from the suddenly suffocating clasp. “And you are?”
“Oh, but you wouldn’t know about me.” The woman took a step back, far more subdued as her eyes flickered over Jess’s face without meeting her gaze. “I was yore daddy’s housekeeper.”
“Right.” She’d committed all of Papa’s letters to memory, and now Jess remembered. The very fact that he’d told her helped Jess feel less cut off from the Bar None and more comfortable accepting the woman’s welcome. She dredged up a small smile. “Desta. I do know about you.”
“You do?” Startled, her eyes went so wide Jess could see white all the way around.
“Papa wrote me when you came to the ranch,” she elaborated somewhat defensively. The housekeeper’s surprise made her feel her role of outsider, as did the humiliating recollection that she’d written Papa back, telling him he didn’t need a housekeeper if he just brought her home. She’d promised to take good care of him and the rest of the Bar None, but he’d firmly maintained she was too young. Six years later, she stood on the stoop, trying to explain herself to the woman who’d served as her replacement without revealing how heart-sore the whole thing made her.
“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you from his description so long ago. It’s a bit of a shock… .”
Understanding dawned on her face, and she broke in, “He didn’t tell you I was black?”
Nettled that the housekeeper thought that would matter so much, Jess shook her head. “It’s not the sort of thing he’d bother mentioning. I’m thrown off by Ed’s absence. Somehow I didn’t imagine I’d get all the way out here and not see him right away. It’s been a long journey.”
“And a long overdue one.” The woman shook her head as though in remorse then snapped to attention as though just realizing Jess still stood out in the rain. She reached out and all but dragged Jess through the door, clucking like a
Similar Books
