Nate woke early, quickly dressed, then tiptoed down the stairs. Why was Pa sleeping on the settee again? Two nights in a row, that was really odd. He couldn’t worry about that now. There was important business at hand that required his full attention.
Nate carefully removed the bar without making a noise, glancing over his shoulder at Pa until it was securely set aside. His fingers eased around the knob, and ever so slowly he twisted. If the click was too loud, he was done for. How would he explain sneaking out for a second time? He’d get his ass tanned for sure—might anyway. If this trick worked and Jesse packed his bags and ran off, that would be worth taking a whipping.
When the door opened just enough, he slipped out. Brr. He shivered and blew into his hands, his breath misting pure white. A few stars lit the sky. He’d best step lightly across the porch so as not to startle Pa into accidentally taking a shot at him.
Nate let the picket gate swing closed behind him as he hurried toward the corral. Everything was covered in frost, including the fence rails. He wiggled through while searching the ground. There was one and a big one too. He picked up a hard hunk of half-frozen horse turd. Would one be enough to do the job? Why risk being wrong? Usually, more of something was better than not enough. He filled his coat pockets. Plus he held his coat front out like a sling sack and packed them there too.
When he returned to the house, he peeked in the window and made sure Pa was still asleep before he slinked back inside and weaseled up the stairs. Ma’s bedroom door was shut, and as long as Elizabeth didn’t wake up, Ma would likely stay behind that closed door and asleep until closer to breakfast time.
Jesse’s door was open just a crack. Nate eased his fingers inside and stopped breathing as he pushed slightly so the black gap slowly widened. His heart banged, waiting for a hinge to squeak and give him away. He slipped into the dark room, then gave his eyes a minute to adjust. Jesse, who was softly snoring, lay sprawled across the blankets, his face turned toward Nate. Why couldn’t he have been sawing logs to maybe cover any noise Nate might make? That was his luck. Everything always seemed to work out for Jesse’s good—except this time.
Jesse choked and cleared his throat. Nate stiffened, and his eyes stretched wide. Jesse rolled onto his side but hadn’t come awake. Nate didn’t dare take a breath. Jesse started snoring softly again. That had been too close. Nate ducked to the floor. It somehow seemed less risky, and he crawled to the edge of the bed while trying to steady his breathing. A few seconds of feeling around and he found Jesse’s boots.
Quickly and silently Nate filled the boots toe to heel with globs of horse shit and snickered to himself. The sun wouldn’t be up for better than an hour. That was plenty of time for the crap to defrost, nice and warm and juicy, tucked snug inside the boots.
Nate crept from the room with a fat, satisfied smile on his face. Jesse would likely scram after waking to that smelly mess. Too bad Nate couldn’t hang around and see him pull on those stinky boots. Sure would be funny.
Nate picked up his schoolbooks and left the house, figuring it best he was nowhere within Jesse’s reach or he might get his neck wrung.
He hightailed it into town and went straight to the livery. Old Man Pike had put Buck in the corral. Nate climbed the fence and patted Buck’s nose. “I’ve missed you too.”
He went inside to fetch some grain and ended up inviting himself to breakfast. The old man didn’t ask questions, and Nate liked it that way. Had he gone to one of his buddies’ houses, that wouldn’t have been so. He ate the brown-flour gravy over a biscuit and waited. It wasn’t long before some of his friends gathered in the schoolyard. He played tag until the bell rang, keeping one eye on the road, thinking it would be funny to wave goodbye to Jesse as he rode through on his way out of Nate’s life.
Mrs. McKay looked over the classroom and marked her attendance ledger. Nate flipped open his tablet and doodled on a sheet. That trick he had pulled this morning, Jesse would likely have to scrub those boots for hours to get rid of that awful shit smell. Nate quietly laughed so he didn’t draw Mrs. McKay’s attention. He could have Pa all to himself again. Inwardly, he patted himself on the shoulder. His shitty scheme had to have worked. How could it not?
Mrs. McKay began to write spelling words on the blackboard. The usual blah, blah, blah of his teacher’s voice wasn’t so ho-hum this morning as the hours passed. Jesse was probably long gone by now.
“All right, children, open your readers to page fifteen and begin there.” Mrs. McKay sat down at her desk and picked up a stack of essays.
Nate’s mind wasn’t on those pages in front of him. Maybe Pa would finally take him hunting.
The sound of heavy boots on the stairs echoed inside, and somehow they sounded pissed. That had to be Pa. Nate cringed. The schoolhouse door swung open with a loud creak and then closed with a bang. Nate didn’t have to turn with the rest of the class to see who was standing there. Pa had tracked him down, and he was in big trouble.
“Sorry to interrupt, ma’am. I need to talk with Nathanial, if he could be excused for a few minutes.”
Nate’s ears caught hold of the high octave of anger in Pa’s usually deep voice. He slowly stood from his seat. Pa waited at the back of the room with Nate’s coat in hand. His ass cheeks tightened. He could feel the sting already.
He shuffled out the door and had no choice but to face what was coming to him. He had fled the crime scene, believing he’d gotten away with it. As he neared the bottom step, Nate looked up and wanted to spit. There stood Jesse with his arms tightly crossed. Nate had never seen that tight-jawed, mean scowl on Jesse’s face before. Oh well. He didn’t care if Jesse was pissed. Nate wasn’t exactly happy either, and he quickly turned his back and faced Pa.
Pa put up a hand. “I don’t want to hear one word from your sassy mouth, so keep quiet. It took your ma all morning to clean the filthy mess out of those boots. Poor Jesse has to wear that stink around all day. You will apologize to him.” Pa’s whole body shook as he wagged a finger. “And don’t you sneak out of that house again. I oughta turn ya over my knee right here.” Everyone inside and probably half the town heard. “You’re gettin’ a spanking. I’ll take ya to the barn after school.”
Tears sprang into Nate’s eyes. He wasn’t afraid, but he felt like a fight. “How many hours will I have to wait before you ’member to take me?”
He’d pushed Pa too hard with that smartass remark. Pa unbuckled the leather belt and pulled it from his waist. Nate backed away, unaware at first that he’d stepped toward Jesse.
“Sheriff?” Jesse put a hand on Nate’s shoulder and pushed him back so he stood in front of Nate.
Why was Jesse putting himself between them? Nate looked around his hip. Pa stood too straight and tall, the leather strap folded in his hand.
“Why don’t Nathanial help me instead? I need to pack my things from the cabin before it’s of use to Shorty. I was figuring maybe Saturday, if you can spare me on the trails. The boy don’t have school that day.”
Nate watched as Pa thought over Jesse’s idea. A day forced to work side by side with Jesse, Nate couldn’t think of a worse punishment. He wouldn’t be in trouble right now if it wasn’t for Jesse.
Pa’s eyes narrowed. “Say you’re sorry, an’ you should be thanking Jesse.”
“Thank him for what?” Nate understood that Jesse had saved his hide from a hard lesson. He’d rather have taken the whipping than be stuck helping Jesse with anything. “I’m going with my friends on Saturday up to Blue Sky Lake. We’re gonna break ice crusted around the edge with rocks.”
“Settle yourself and quick, or you’re going to git your ass wailed and still have to help Jesse.”
Nate huffed, crossed his arms tight, and pouted. Pa always took Jesse’s side. This was a bunch of bull. Nate wiped at his eyes.
“Apologize, then git back to school.” Pa hadn’t threaded that belt around his waist yet.
There was no getting out of it. Nate’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.” Forced to waste his Saturday with Jesse, he couldn’t think of a worse way to spend his day off from school. He shuffled up the steps. His friends would all be playing and having fun at Blue Sky Lake, and he was to be cast into hell for a day.
A horse came running fast into town. Nate twisted at the top of the stairs and looked. One of Shorty’s men jerked up reins in front of Pa. The man was out of breath as if he’d just run the distance from Shorty’s spread.
“Fifty more cattle stolen, and I been ridin’ out per orders to check on Jesse’s stock that the boss is buyin’. A hundred head gone in the past two days.”
Pa looked up at Nate and then at Jesse. “Take Nathanial home. Join me at Shorty’s as quick as you can.”
Why wouldn’t Pa just let Nate stay at school? If he was worried about him walking home alone, Nate wasn’t afraid. It was beginning to flurry, but the sky wasn’t dark gray like a snowstorm was coming.
“Pa, can I go with ya?” A little whine sometimes got him what he wanted, but it didn’t always work on Pa.
Ma likely would make Nate clean his room or do other chores. He would rather be at school. At least there he could play with his friends.
“I can track as good as you.” Pointing out the truth couldn’t hurt. Nate pulled open his coat as a reminder to Pa, and that spit polished deputy’s badge sparkled.
They rode to the west. Jesse couldn’t believe the sheriff had Nathanial tagging along with them. Not just him, but Shorty’s two kids as well. They were quite the posse of trackers, looking more like a schoolroom.
Jesse pulled up his coat collar to keep the cold wind off his neck, not only dangerous, but frigid. He looked over at Nathanial riding on Buck. The boy’s coat was wide, and that icy air had to be blowing right through his shirt.
“Button your coat.” Jesse didn’t care if he sounded crotchety. He wasn’t a nursemaid.
For once, the boy did as he was ordered. The other two kids were keeping good pace with them, but they couldn’t possibly track dangerous criminals like this. Jesse himself had just been shot the other day while looking for these fellas. Shorty was riding alongside, and Jesse was getting concerned about all these kids with them.
“Your missus gonna watch all the boys while we track these cattle thieves?”
Mrs. Short had watched over them when Jesse was near to being hanged. Taking these kids to her seemed the most sensible option.
Shorty shook his head. “She and my daughters are gone to visit a neighbor. I kept the boys home today to take ’em huntin’. I don’t like it either, but we got no choice. We’ll have to take ’em.”
Jesse cursed under his breath. Hell, he would’ve volunteered to ride shotgun next to the kids to get them all safe to the Short ranch. There would be cowhands at the bunkhouse that could guard Nathanial, unless they were all out on the range. A boy sitting a horse on open ground was an easy target. What had the sheriff been thinking that it would be a good idea to bring Nate along?
Flakes of snow dotted the dry grass, which crunched under their horses’ hooves. He fell into pace next to Nathanial, who rode the mustang close to the sheriff’s bay. Two sides of the kid were covered.
A few minutes later and following Nathanial’s lead, Jesse reined in.
“Pa, these tracks ain’t no more than an hour old.”
Jesse looked where the kid pointed at the ground.
“Three men stayed driving the cattle while one man split off and rode north.” There wasn’t an inkling of self-doubt in the kid’s voice.
Sheriff Crosson stepped the bay closer and checked it out.
Jesse was impressed with how well Nathanial could track sign. The sheriff hadn’t helped but once or twice, and then he’d talked out what he saw so his son would learn that too. Nathanial hung on his pa’s every word and seemed eager to be taught. Jesse was learning too, and after what he had seen, he could now easily picture Nate tracking down Tipsy just as the sheriff had said. Not that Jesse had doubted it, but seeing the skills of the miniature sheriff at work made Tipsy’s threat all the more real.
What the kid said about the one rider headed north had Jesse thinking. The ranch and cattle up yonder were still his until he and Shorty signed the papers. If the deal for the sale fell through for some reason, then the acres of land and that herd would be Jesse’s only means of living come spring when it seemed his work for the sheriff would be done.
“North is toward my ranch.” There were better than three hundred cattle still on that range. “I aim to go have a look.”
“Wait.” The sheriff reached around the half-pint and grabbed Jesse’s shoulder. “Not alone. Those cattle are soon to be Shorty’s. He can ride with ya, or one of his men.”
Jesse wasn’t going to argue. An extra man meant another gun, which was more protection. He rubbed at his stitched-up shoulder. The other day was the first he’d ever shot at a man. He didn’t want to look the coward in front of the sheriff, but Jesse’s palms were sweating a mite. It was hard telling what he might be riding into. One man couldn’t push all the cattle left on the ranch. It was too big of a job even if it was just fifty head stolen at a time. Whomever Jesse was about to trail might be meeting with others. Who knew how many men he could be riding up against? Shorty was welcome to ride with him.
Another thought struck Jesse, but why? The boy had certainly given him no reason, and Jesse had no right. He wasn’t kin. But for some goldarn strange reason, there was a mighty protective stirring inside him. His older brothers had written him off as a traitor the very minute Pa had cast him out, when instead they could’ve stood up for him. That’d been a long time ago. Right this minute, he saw a good opportunity, and there wasn’t a damn thing to lose by trying to befriend that youngster. Except maybe the price of a pair of boots. He grinned, not yet able to laugh about it, and could still smell the stink even with the wind blowing.
Most importantly, he needed to keep Nathanial safe.
Maybe they wouldn’t become buddies over chasing cattle thieves, but possibly a foundation for gaining trust could be laid. Nathanial also could be of some help to Jesse, if the boy would leave his pa’s side. The half-pint, Lenny, and Norman were all stuck in the middle of what could be a bloody fight, no matter which direction they rode or who it was who guarded them.
“I want Nathanial to ride with me.”
The sheriff’s head jerked up, and he eyed Jesse questioningly.
“I ain’t as good as the boy at reading sign.” If the cattle had been pushed off Jesse’s land, then he aimed to get them back. That wasn’t the true reason for him wanting Nathanial along, but he didn’t have time to explain it and wouldn’t have done so in front of the boy anyway.
“I ain’t much of a tracker either.” Shorty spoke up and unknowingly played into Jesse’s hand.
They were just fine with Nathanial leading their path. From what Jesse had seen, he knew the boy was capable.
He looked over at Nathanial while the sheriff thought it over. The half-pint’s snowy hair was a mess and his little face chapped red from that god-awful wind. The boy probably would have no interest in helping Jesse.
Nathanial smiled from ear to ear, seeming more than happy to be a “real deputy,” as he called himself on occasion. Shorty’s boys, Lenny and Norman, were wide-eyed and teary. It was the flip side in comparison to Nathanial’s eager-to-help demeanor. Maybe Nate was just showing off and putting on a brave face in front of his friends, but it didn’t seem like it. That kid wasn’t the least bit antsy, whereas neither of Shorty’s boys could hold still. Nathanial seemed almost too comfortable. Yeah, the boy’s pa was the sheriff, but that didn’t mean Nate hunted down wanted men like Jesse had been doing the past few days. He recalled Nate had mentioned that he’d ridden with a gang of men.
The sheriff stepped the bay close to the Appaloosa, then leaned in tight for only Jesse to hear. Both horses were stepping nervously.
“Shorty will do what he has to in order to keep any harm from coming to them boys, but you keep that rifle ready. If you see anyone that ain’t friendly, you aim like you’re huntin’ turkey.”
Jesse nodded and was sure he’d turned a bit pale. Plus a father wouldn’t just hand over his son to anyone. Sheriff Crosson was putting his full trust in Jesse. It wasn’t a responsibility he would take lightly.
The sheriff turned his horse toward Nathanial. “You keep your head low.”
Nathanial straightened in the saddle and put his right hand up. “I promise.”
The half-pint trailed the single rider straight to Jesse’s cabin. No smoke floated up from the chimney, but someone could still be inside. There wasn’t a horse tied at the rail or standing in the corral. The barn door was closed. There might be a horse in there.
Jesse pulled his rifle. “Nate, I want you and your buddies to hide yourselves yonder in those trees.” Jesse then looked over at Shorty’s ranch hand. “You stay with these boys.”
Jesse stepped down out of the saddle. He crept toward the cabin door with his rifle held ready and his finger on the trigger. Shorty walked slow and quiet up to the house and disappeared out of sight around the back.
Jesse pushed the door open while keeping himself to one side of the frame so as not to make himself a full target. He peered inside. No one was there. But those horse tracks had come right up to the place.
He went in and looked around for a clue. Dust covered every stick of furniture. The room smelled stale, but a room that sat empty would be cold. Jesse touched the ashes in the fireplace. The embers were still good and warm.
Shorty stepped in the back door. Jesse swung his rifle around, and Shorty’s hands flew straight up. “Don’t shoot!”
Jesse lowered his aim. “Whoever we’re following was here not long ago.”
They hurried to their horses. Where the hell was Shorty’s man? Because he wasn’t with the boys. Jesse quickly looked about and saw no sign of him. “Where’d he disappear to?” He looked pointedly at Nathanial. There wasn’t time for this.
The boy shrugged.
Shorty whistled for his man to join them. He came running from the barn, straight for his horse.
When the man lifted his leg to step into the stirrup, Jesse yanked him, throwing the darn fool against the frozen ground. He shoved the serious end of his rifle up under the chin of that stupid ranch hand. Tipsy could have been waiting for a chance such as that, for Nate to be unprotected.
Jesse stood at his full height and kept him cowering in the dirt. “I told you to stay with these boys. I wasn’t asking. When I give you an order, you’d best listen, or things are gonna turn real unfriendly.”
Sweat instantly glistened on the man’s pale face. “I thought I’d check the barn.”
“Did I tell you to search the barn?” Jesse gave a hard nudge to the man’s chin.
“No, sir.” That fella couldn’t possibly have arched his neck any more to get away from Jesse’s Winchester.
Jesse wasn’t ready to leave off just yet. “You’re damn lucky nothing happened to these boys. Do not cross me again.” He turned and swung a leg over Dapple as Shorty’s man picked himself up off the ground. Jesse ignored Nate’s wide-eyed stare and Norman’s whimpering. The other boy sat on his horse, quiet and pale.
“Find me that horseman’s trail. The tracks will be minutes old.” Jesse needed to stay focused on finding who had made themselves at home in the cabin for a short spell.
Nathanial circled the buckskin in the yard while studying the ground. Snow began to fall fast. In a few minutes, any tracks would be covered.
“I found it.” The half-pint kicked the mustang into a lope. Jesse followed close as Nathanial quickly worked to trail the single rider away from the ranch.
They rode along the creek for some time, then turned north and crossed a long stretch of prairie dotted with a scattering of cattle. The boy led them through a dense wooded hillside that opened onto another stretch of dead grass. Here and there, a cow raised its head from chewing on the brown tufts that swayed in the wind and watched the passing riders.
Jesse reined in. The trail had skirted around the herd, and judging by the strides of the horse, the rider hadn’t even slowed his pace to look the beef over. Whoever it was didn’t seem to be after the cattle but something else. Jesse looked at Nathanial, who was studying the tracks on the ground, and that trail was too quickly disappearing under a thin blanket of white.
Jesse could see for himself how fresh those prints were, and his gut tightened with the sense that there was trouble nearby. He nudged his horse forward at a walk. “Nathanial, you stay close.” Jesse needed the boy’s keen eyes to guide their path when it wasn’t so clear, but he didn’t want the sheriff’s son caught in front if a fight was to come. They were practically sitting on top of that fella they were trailing.
The boy had a hell of a poker face. If Nathanial was scared, it wasn’t showing, unlike Shorty’s two boys. Norman had been snotting around the past five miles, and Lenny, who cried much quieter, had swiped a sleeve across his eyes at least a dozen times. All this time, poor Shorty had been trying to keep both his youngsters calm, and with that much of a distraction, the cattleman wasn’t the second set of eyes Jesse had hoped for. Shorty’s man wasn’t much good either, too busy helping keep them two quivering kids from scaring their own horses.
Jesse caught a movement, slight, but he’d seen it in the tree line over his left shoulder. Nathanial was on his left. Jesse pitched himself off Dapple, tackling Nate out of the saddle. They hit the ground hard. A rifle boom rang across the valley, and dirt kicked up not a foot from the mustang. Jesse aimed and fired back. Nathanial was pinned under Jesse’s weight, safe for now. The little boy shook but didn’t make a peep.
Norman’s horse reared, and a bloodcurdling shriek burst out of the boy as he held tight to the horn. Shorty yanked the reins and fought with the frightened animal to settle before that bawling kid was thrown off. Lenny’s horse, too, was out of control and charging into the tree line ahead. Shorty’s man returned fire, then took off after Lenny.
When no more shots fired, Jesse grabbed up Nate off the ground. “You okay?”
The boy nodded but looked a mite pale. To his credit, Nate wasn’t panicking after being shot at, while Norman was a blubbering mess.
Jesse lifted Nathanial onto the mustang, then quickly turned to Shorty. “Git the boys into that thicket now.” Jesse swung into the saddle. He jerked his reins and spun the Appaloosa.
“Jesse.” The half-pint’s voice was shaky as he called Jesse back.
He yanked up reins and looked over his shoulder.
Nathanial had his hands wadded up in the reins, still showing he was afraid. “Keep your head low.”
Jesse grinned. “I will.”
He kicked Dapple into a run and rode into the tree line where that shot had come from. A gray horse carrying the single rider disappeared far off through the pines. Jesse spurred the Appaloosa. His rifle was ready across his lap. The shooter flashed in and out of sight between the evergreens. Jesse was gaining ground but still too far off. Was that rogue Tipsy or just some cattle thief?
“Tipsy!” Jesse hollered to see if the man would turn at the call of his name. Jesse wasn’t close enough to catch details of a face. Though that fella was wearing a long gray coat and black hat. Sheriff Crosson had mentioned that Tipsy had fought for the Confederacy. That gray coat might be part of an old uniform.
The fella twisted around in the saddle. Boom! A bullet bit into the tree next to Jesse’s head, nearly cutting him off at the neck. He aimed his rifle. Being fired upon confirmed that he was indeed looking down the end of his barrel at Tipsy. Tipsy’s back was now turned as he rode away fast. Jesse’s rifle boomed. His shot would not have missed if Tipsy hadn’t just disappeared over a small rise.
He kicked Dapple, racing through the pines and up a hillside. He crested the top, and a bullet zinged past him. The Appaloosa pranced nervously. Jesse couldn’t get an aim through the trees. Tipsy’s gray jumped a small creek, and he was hidden among the aspen and evergreens before Jesse had a chance to pull the trigger.
Jesse weaved a fast path down the rocky, snow-covered hillside. Dapple’s hind legs slid a few times as loose rocks broke away under them. A bluster of flurries kicked up, making Jesse’s eyes water something awful, nearly blinding him just as his horse jumped the creek and he damn near lost his grip. He pulled up straight in the saddle.
There was nothing on the ground that clued him in to which direction he should go. Sparse evergreen branches held the light blanket of snow. If the powder was on the ground instead, it would have shown Tipsy’s trail.
Jesse wasn’t going to waste time tracking. Not only was the sun dipping low in the sky, but Tipsy could circle around and be running straight for Nathanial. Jesse needed to get back to the kid. Not that he didn’t trust Shorty with the job of protecting Nate, but Shorty had his hands full with his own two.
Jesse rode fast into the thicket, his heart pounding. His eyes landed on Nathanial, who thankfully was safe but teary-eyed and pale. The other two kids were bawling, and Norman was curled up on the saddle in front of his pa.
“We heard the shots. What happened?” Shorty didn’t blink, and that made Jesse think that he was hoping to hear that there was one less cattle thief he had to worry about.
Jesse shook his head. “I’ll pick up the trail tomorrow when there’s more light.”
They rode at a good pace toward Shorty’s ranch with the sun fading below the mountain behind them. Jesse’s fingers and toes were so cold they felt like they might snap off. That wasn’t what worried him. Nathanial, who had just yawned for the third time, was shivering badly.
They’d been beaten down by the hellish cold wind all damn day, too many hours in the saddle for a youngster. The boy’s eyes kept drifting shut. Then he’d start awake. Twice, he’d nearly fallen off his horse.
The half-pint leaned forward and rested his head on the buckskin’s neck. It appeared that Nathanial couldn’t keep those baby blues open any longer, but he didn’t complain. Lenny and Norman had whined up a storm about how cold they were until Shorty had growled at them to shut up.
It was only a few miles, and they would all be at the Short ranch. At least those two kids could get warm in the house.
Jesse slowed their pace, turned in the saddle, and loosened the strap that held his blanket roll. He dropped the wool sheet over the kid. Nathanial’s eyes fluttered open, and he gave Jesse a small smile. The boy’s little nose was as bright red as those wind-burned cheeks. It was too darn cold, and with night dropping in fast over them, the air grew even frostier.
“Hang on to the horn.” Jesse scooped up the mustang’s reins and led the horse so Nathanial could rest easier.
They were a sorry-looking bunch when they drifted into Shorty’s ranch yard. Even the horses’ heads were hanging low. Jesse fumbled a bit as he pulled his scarf up as far as possible to cover his stinging ears. His hands were past being numb, and the stiffness that came with it had started to spread up his arms and legs.
They pulled up reins in front of the house. Lenny and Norman dropped out of their saddles and hurried inside the warm house. A cowhand took the reins of the two horses and led them toward the barn. Nathanial whimpered under the blanket. The poor kid’s teeth chattered. This boy needed to get home and warmed. Jesse tucked the ends of the blanket in tighter around Nathanial. Where was the sheriff?
“Pa,” a honey-sweet voice called out and warmed Jesse through the cold. “There’s hot coffee inside.”
Jesse’s head turned away from Nathanial to find where the soft sound came from.
“Deputy Adams, this is my daughter Kristy.”
Jesse’s eyes weren’t on Shorty. He tipped his hat. “Howdy, miss.” He must look a dirty mess after being in the saddle all day. His heart thumped a little, and he straightened his coat and brushed the dirt from his sleeve where he and the boy had hit the ground together.
Kristy Short sure was pretty. The dim evening light cast a heavenly glow around her. Jesse guessed her to be his age. Wavy strands of dark-molasses hair hung below her shoulders in big, loose curls. Those green eyes sparkled, as did her beautiful smile. The yellow flowing dress she wore fit well and matched the lovely blue shawl that was wrapped tight around her shoulders. She looked like a warm touch of spring. Even so, Jesse wanted to offer his coat to keep the cold off her.
He’d bet she smelled like a rose. Was he staring? He felt a flush of heat come into his face.
They all turned toward the rumble of running horses. A group of riders approached.
The sheriff pulled up reins next to the mustang, then lifted an end of the blanket. Nathanial was half-asleep. Sheriff Crosson picked the boy out of the saddle and sat the kid in front. The half-pint curled up and rested back against his pa. His eyes were closed in no time.
Jesse kept hold of the mustang’s reins as they turned their horses. “Good night, miss.” He smiled. Kristy was the most handsome young woman he’d ever seen. She beat any sunrise, and he’d seen quite a few.
“Good night, Jesse.” She smiled too.
Jesse spurred the Appaloosa and quickly fell into pace with the bay. Kristy knew his name? How? Jesse hadn’t introduced himself proper. Her pa must have told her about buying the ranch. What if Kristy knew about him almost being hanged for a cattle thief? No, she wouldn’t have smiled at him and batted those bright, sparkling eyes.
Darkness was all around them when they rode into the ranch yard at Sheriff Crosson’s home. He carried Nathanial, who was asleep, into the house while Jesse tended to the horses.
Jesse couldn’t wait to get something hot into him. He wiggled his toes just to make sure they were still there. What a day. They’d probably ridden twenty or so miles, and he might still be going if he hadn’t lost Tipsy’s trail. Daylight would come soon enough, and then he’d be back out there to hunt. Jesse closed the barn door and headed for the house.
Mmm … apple pie. He quickly doffed his coat and made a beeline for the table. He’d no sooner plopped into a chair than Kate set a plate of warmed-up stew in front of him, along with several pieces of buttered bread.
He scooped a dripping spoonful into his mouth. Good Lord, it was like eating a slice of heaven. He sopped his bread and couldn’t shovel in the savory stew fast enough. Crumbs speckled the front of his shirt and all over the table. He dipped his last hunk of bread into the remaining broth and wiped up every smidge around the edge.
Jesse took a giant bite and glanced over at the sheriff, whose manners weren’t any better. Jesse’s gut had finally quieted, and he relaxed back in his chair. Kate smirked and pointed at his chin. Jesse wiped a sleeve across his face, cleaning up whatever leftovers had dribbled there.
Kate, too, often reminded Jesse of his ma, and he doubted she would hold his poor manners against him when he was starved. She just shook her head and went about serving dessert.
He hoped there was enough in the pot that he could have another big helping. They’d been hunting Tipsy since shortly after breakfast. The kid, tucked away in bed, likely would wake hungrier than a bear.
“I missed Tipsy.” Jesse shoved a forkful of pie into his mouth while Kate collected both empty plates.
The sheriff studied Jesse, and he got the feeling that wasn’t a good thing.
Kate returned with more stew, and Jesse eagerly took the full plate and dug in.
Sheriff Crosson set down his cup with some force, and coffee sloshed out. “What do you mean you missed him?”
“The single rider, it was Tipsy. I took chase after him. He got away from me after we exchanged a few shots.” Jesse told it how it was. Tipsy wasn’t a sitting turkey, and Jesse wouldn’t make a single excuse. He’d done his best.
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. “How the hell did you miss?” Sheriff Crosson’s deep voice had become a low growl.
Jesse’s jaw tightened. Every muscle in his body went tense, and he sat up straighter as he dropped his spoon and slid the plate away. Jesse didn’t care to hear the unjustified reprimand. He reciprocated that narrow-eyed glare. “I steadied myself to do what I had to. I’ve been wearin’ this badge only a few days, and shootin’ at a man ain’t somethin’ I’ve got much experience with.”
Tipsy was no tinhorn. What Jesse had done took guts, and the sheriff knew it. The shadows of night had begun to cover the land. It had made it too dark to track. Jesse had thought picking up the trail when there was light in the sky was the right thing to do, but he didn’t need to explain any of that.
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fool or a coward, ’cause I ain’t either.”
The sheriff said nothing but shoved his plate away.
Bickering made Jesse lose his appetite. He hadn’t figured on the sheriff getting so mad. Jesse had, after all, saved Nathanial from a bullet. Apparently that hadn’t been enough. Maybe the sheriff ought to open his damn mouth and explain it better. Then Jesse would know exactly what was expected of him.
He stood, pushing back his chair. “Thank you for the fine meal, ma’am.”
Jesse marched up the stairs to his room. He sat down hard on the edge of the bed and just took a deep breath or two. There was a small fire going, and the room was nice and warm. Jesse shucked his boots. Maybe he should hide these where the half-pint couldn’t find them. He chuckled to himself and set aside the boots. The smell was all but gone, thank God. Jesse fluffed his pillow, then swung his feet up and stretched out on the quilt. The orange flames swayed, and he hoped to see Kristy real soon.
Jesse woke early. It was barely light outside. A light dusting of snow had fallen overnight, though the house was good and toasty.
He carried his boots into the hall. Chances were everyone else in the house was still sleeping, and his spurs would jingle down the stairs. Stockinged feet made little noise. He looked in on the boy, who was sleeping like a baby.
Downstairs, it caught him off guard to see the sheriff and Kate sitting peacefully in the quiet house, sipping their coffee together at the table. Jesse had expected to be the only one up at that hour. The rooster hadn’t yet called them to wake.
He looked between the two, and Jesse wasn’t sure where exactly to focus his gaze. Was he intruding? Had his collar been buttoned, he would have loosened it. Maybe he should head on out and saddle his horse without first having coffee or breakfast. He fiddled with the boots.
It was more than just walking in on a few minutes of private time between a man and his wife before their day got busy with kids and such. Did Jesse really belong there? He had honestly believed so until … Well, he hadn’t expected the sheriff to treat him like he was wet behind the ears, though he’d be the first to admit being a green lawman.
His classroom of learning wasn’t exactly “sit down and see it drawn out on a blackboard.” He had stitches, and a bullet had missed his head by a short foot. The fact that he was still breathing, now that was an A-plus in Jesse’s book.
“I’d like some coffee, if I ain’t interruptin’.” Jesse set his boots on the floor next to the table.
“Not at all.” Kate smiled as she stood and went into the kitchen. “I’ll start breakfast.” She spoke over her shoulder while pouring. The sheriff had his face shoved between the folds of a newspaper and hadn’t so much as glanced at Jesse.
“Good. I wanna git an early start on picking up Tipsy’s trail,” Jesse called back as he pulled out a chair and looked over at the sheriff, who appeared to be reading.
The man had a solid poker face. There wasn’t a hint of what he was thinking showing through. The date on the paper showed it to be a week old. Gray Rock had no printed news press. The paper was from Birch Creek. The sheriff couldn’t possibly be all that interested in the price of canned milk or chicken feed in a town that was more than a week’s ride away.
Sheriff Crosson seemed not to have heard a word that Jesse had said about tracking Tipsy.
Kate handed Jesse the coffee.
“Thank you, ma’am.” He nodded.
There was a thick quietness between him and Sheriff Crosson. Jesse wasn’t about to apologize. Learning the ropes of becoming a good deputy while trying to throw his pa’s poor reputation off his back wasn’t so easy. If Sheriff Crosson was so pissed off that he was willing to ignore Jesse’s presence at the table, then he could take back the badge. Though it did feel at home on his chest.
Jesse would still ride after Tipsy until he knew Nathanial was safe. Jesse wanted the sheriff’s friendship, and he would stay planted with the Crosson family until spring if not asked to leave. But he wasn’t going to be treated unfairly.
Kate set a full plate of eggs and bacon with a few biscuits dropped along the edge in front of Jesse and the sheriff. The sheriff folded the newspaper and set it aside.
Jesse picked up his fork and began to eat, but he could feel the sheriff staring. “What?”
“You’re right.” Sheriff Crosson took a sip of his coffee.
Jesse raised a brow. What was he right about? He hadn’t said more than a word this morning, and that was to thank Kate for the fine vittles. “Huh?”
The sheriff’s face softened into a grin, and he rolled his eyes. Heat rose into Jesse’s face for being dim, but he still didn’t know.
“I did forget how new that star is to you. I tend to expect a lot from any man wearing a badge, and you have the makings to be a fine lawman.” The sheriff picked up a piece of bacon.
Jesse was suddenly full and satisfied on the almighty big compliment. He was now even more anxious to get on the trail after Tipsy.