Chapter Four
Witch.
Rowan said she was a witch. He didn’t even know what that meant other than old wives’ tales. Did that explain the way she could heat food up with just her hand? Or whatever the hell had happened with Maeve in the bunkhouse?
He had pushed away all his early memories, many of them too ugly to hang on to. He’d deliberately forgotten those memories because he’d lost so much more than his mother when she died. He’d lost his childhood. Now Rowan had thrown him back there.
Maeve and Talulla sat at the table holding hands, wide-eyed and silent. Jesse sat down on the opposite corner and put his face in his hands. He focused on breathing as he listened to Rowan stoke up the stove and put coffee on. Good. He’d need it for sure.
Rowan sat down across from him and folded her hands in front. “I expect Bird will appear in just a few minutes.”
He looked up at her and frowned. “You didn’t even call her.”
“I did, but not the way you think. Besides, she knows everything that goes on at this ranch without a word being spoken.” Rowan spoke these words as though she believed them. Heck, he could believe it too. Bird was spooky.
She appeared beside the table with her hair down, he hadn’t realized it went all the way to her waist, wearing a wrap and a scowl. “What’s happened?” Bird sat beside Maeve and took her face in her tiny hands. “Something hurt you.”
“It had ahold of her, Bird.” Talulla sounded shaken.
“What was it?” Bird looked to Rowan to answer.
“It could have been one of those creatures, but I don’t know for certain. It felt almost human.” Rowan glanced at Jesse. “I knew something was wrong with Maeve and I heard Jesse.”
“You heard me? From upstairs when I was in the barn?” He wasn’t following the conversation well and damned if he didn’t feel like he fell and hit his head. It pounded right along with his heart.
Rowan glanced at him. “It’s the connection between us. I tried to explain it to you.”
She mentioned dreams a few weeks ago but he assumed she meant dreams about him, not some kind of connection. He didn’t even know what that meant. Jesse’s temper rumbled. He didn’t like not knowing what was happening and he really didn’t like not being in control of a situation. “What the hell is going on?”
Bird’s gaze never wavered from Maeve’s, yet she answered him. “Something is threatening the girls, because they are turning twenty-one.”
“Why would anybody threaten them because they’re having a birthday?” he scoffed. “Someone trying to steal their gifts?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. Not the kind of gifts you’re talking about, though.” She held Maeve’s hands as she spoke. “Mr. Nelson, you need to leave. This is a family matter.”
Jesse reared back as if she slapped him. He was there because he was part of this situation, whatever it was. “I deserve an explanation. I’m part of this whether you like it or not.”
Rowan turned to Bird. “His mother was one of our kind.”
Bird scowled at Rowan hard. “You can’t believe that’s true.”
“Yes, I do. He has memories of things his mother did, like me.”
“No he doesn’t. You feel connected to him to so you’ve given him enough information to confuse you.” Bird’s admonishment surprised Rowan as much as it surprised him. “You have stepped outside the boundaries of what’s allowed.”
Rowan’s cheeks flushed a very becoming shade of pink. “I don’t believe I did.”
“I don’t think you meant to in your head, but you did in your heart.” Bird’s gaze shifted to Jesse and he held her stare. “There is something different about him but he isn’t yet ready to accept everything he sees or hears.”
“Do we have to cast that spell?” Rowan sounded miserable.
Jesse wanted to know what casting a spell meant and why he felt nervous about his own involvement in the outcome. Perhaps he should run like hell out of the house, maybe even off the ranch. His gut clenched at the thought of never seeing Rowan again. Besides, he couldn’t possibly leave until he knew what happened in the barn.
“Yes, I think we do. You moved too fast. And now something dark is here at the ranch.” Bird turned toward him and he shot to his feet.
“I don’t meant to argue with you, Miss Bird, but I think I ought to have a say in this conversation. Especially since it involves me and casting a spell, whatever that means.” He threw his hands in the air. “Maybe you ought to give folks a chance before you judge them.”
She eyed him, looking down at him, an impossible thing since she was only as high as his elbow. Jesse resisted the urge to shuffle his feet or look away. He would not let a tiny woman cow him. The Rowan sisters watched them like two combatants in a battle.
“We will talk about you and your mother later. For now, we need to talk about the threat to the girls.”
“I still want to know what happened.” Jesse was both annoyed and confused to awaken with the middle sister gyrating on his hard dick. That was unnatural enough to embarrass him. “Why would anyone want to hurt the girls?”
Bird regarded him for a long moment before she finally answered him. “To take what they have. These three are from a long line of Attewodes, a once-in-a-millennium birth of triplets, more powerful than any other ever born. Their twenty-first birthday is their final ascension as witches. If a being kills them on that date, they steal the Attewode powers for themselves.”
Jesse took a moment to absorb what she said. It sounded more like a fairy tale than reality. “What if one of the girls is killed before her birthday?”
“Together they are stronger than when apart. Kill one, and their power is a third of what it was. Kill two, and the last sister has her own power to rely on.” Bird looked at each of the girls in turn. “They are strong alone, but against a mortal enemy, I don’t know.”
The air was thick. Bird’s words hung like dark clouds above them. The sisters glanced at each other and he was not surprised to see fear in their expressions. The entire night felt wrong, including the conversation. To his surprise, he believed what Bird said. He couldn’t explain it if someone asked him why. He simply knew. That meant the danger was very real.
“How do we stop them?” Jesse asked what everyone else was wondering.
“You don’t do anything.” Bird narrowed her gaze. “You can’t help.”
“Like hell I can’t.” Jesse wasn’t about to stop now. “What happened with Maeve in the barn? What was that shadow?”
“I don’t know but we must find out.” Bird tapped her lip with her finger. “Something or someone is out there watching, waiting, trying to drive a wedge between them.”
“Because they’re stronger when there’s three of them.” Jesse finally understood what she was saying. “We have to make sure they stay together.”
Rowan squeezed his hand, a shaky smile on her pale face. “Together.”
“How did that thing get hold of Maeve?” Talulla seemed the most calm and quiet.
“She let it in.” Bird turned to the now gaping Maeve. “You let it in with your dark thoughts.”
Maeve shook her head. “I didn’t let anything inside. I was sleeping.”
“I think it’s been hovering around you, waiting for an opportunity to take control. Did anything happen today that was negative?” Bird asked the question as though she knew the answer already.
The silence in the room was deafening. He could see Rowan struggling not to tattle on her sister and Maeve doing the same with her own guilt.
“Rowan and I argued,” Maeve finally admitted, although she kept her gaze on the wooden table top, fiddling with a piece of her hair.
“There was more to it than that. You two have been arguing for weeks.” Bird pressed on, forcing Maeve to admit what she’d done.
“Okay I pushed her and I was jealous and angry.” To Jesse’s surprise, Maeve’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears. He never expected to see the tough, tobacco-chewing sister become emotional. “First Pa gets hurt, then he arrives, making Rowan act all stupid.” She narrowed her gaze at Jesse. “Then that fool Thomas Dawson and his equally foolish sister keep coming by. They all threw our lives into a spin and I don’t like it.”
Bird again took Maeve’s hands. “There are things in this world we can’t control, and there are things we can. People come in and out of our lives. Don’t let your jealousy destroy the one thing that matters most—family.”
Rowan got up and knelt next to her sisters. They put their heads together, three identical heads of jet-black hair, and murmured low enough he couldn’t hear. Whatever she said seemed to clear the air between them because they stood and hugged each other hard. The thick air that had dominated the room dissipated and things felt lighter.
“That was the first step.” Bird folded her arms. “Do not let anything drive a wedge between you. Keep the white magic strong to keep the black magic at bay.”
Maeve again looked at Jesse. “What about him? Is he really one of us?”
Talulla and Rowan both said, “Yes,” at the same time. Bird appeared to remember he was there and turned back toward him.
“Talulla and Maeve, why don’t you go on upstairs? Rowan, you stay here. I want to talk to both of you.” It didn’t sound as though Jesse was going to like this conversation.
After Talulla and Maeve left Rowan’s embrace, she sat down beside him again. He wouldn’t admit it to her, but he was damn glad she was there beside him. He drew strength from her presence, strange as that was. Jesse was strong enough, man enough, to handle anything.
Bird focused on him, her expression intense. “Tell me your mother’s name.”
“Bridget.”
The housekeeper waved her hand in dismissal. “What was her family name?”
Jesse had to search his memory. “Oh, um, Whelan.”
“Irish then, hm?”
“I think her parents came over from Ireland when they were first married.” He tried to picture his mother, but only saw images of auburn hair and blue eyes.
“What did you tell Rowan about your mother?” Her questions and direct stare made him feel as though he was in a court of law again. Bird would have made a good attorney, if there were any female ones to be found.
“She died when I was seven so my memories are a little hazy. When I’d get hurt, scrape my knee or bang my head, she would use her hands and rub the pain away. The heat from her touch was just like what Rowan did after she hit me with the coffee pot.”
Bird’s gaze swung to Rowan and the younger woman’s cheeks blushed a deep shade of pink. “I thought he was a stranger. I was protecting us.”
“Did you dent the coffee pot?”
“No, ma’am.” Rowan pointed at the pot sitting on the stove. “I cleaned it and put it back where it belongs.”
“Hmph.” Bird turned her attention back to Jesse. “What else about your mother do you remember?”
“She used to heat food up like Rowan did with her hand. Once I saw her start a fire without flint, but she told me there was enough embers to spark the blaze.” He looked at Bird, finally seeing the concern behind her hard gaze. She protected the girls, like a mother, and he threatened them. It was admirable, something he could appreciate and envy.
“Are you saying Rowan heated up food with her hand and you saw her?” Bird again looked at Rowan.
“I had my back turned and so did he.” Rowan sat up tall in the chair. “I was careful.”
“You were selfish, wanting hot food when you’d deliberately missed eating with the rest of us.” Bird’s tone brooked no argument and she didn’t get one either. “Why don’t you go pour the coffee for us?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Rowan got to her feet and did as she was bade. Funny how the smallest person on the ranch seemed to garner the most obedience and wield the most power.
“It’s not in the least bit funny, Mr. Nelson. Power is only that which others give you. I have nothing special. It’s the rest of you who grant me that power.”
Jesse gaped, wondering how the hell she’d known what he was thinking.
“If you listen hard enough, you can hear what’s around you.” She scooted her chair in closer and leaned her elbows on the table. “Now, tell me about your mother’s family.”
Jesse didn’t know much but he told Bird what he remembered, about his mother’s auburn hair, her missing small finger, the way she sang. She listened, her focus solely on him even when Rowan set cups of coffee in front of them. It was the first time in a very long time he’d received someone’s full attention while he spoke. It was also the first time he had spoken at length about anything. Jesse had never been much of a talker but he let it fly now.
“You said she died when you were seven.” Bird sipped at her coffee. “How did she die?”
Jesse closed his eyes. “She fell out of the barn in the loft.” The image of her body lying still in the hay and dust, her pale neck at an awkward angle had burned into his mind. “Her neck broke.”
Bird frowned. “You found her.”
“I did.” He found the depths of his coffee easier to look at than her all-knowing gaze.
“Was it an accident? Or did someone kill her?”
Jesse’s head snapped up at the thought he’d kept in his heart since the moment he’d found her. His father had no compunction about using his fists to make a point, and it occurred to young Jesse, grieving at his mother’s loss, that his father could have killed her.
“I don’t know.”
“But you suspected.”
The air grew heavy with the unsaid accusation that had haunted Jesse for twenty years. He had stewed in misery until that fateful day his father died.
“Yes.” The word was torn from him.
“You found justice for her, didn’t you?” Bird was relentless, drilling at him, scraping him raw.
Rowan took his hand, her small one warm on his clammy skin. He curled his fingers around hers.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” He tamped down the old rage that threatened to rear up. “There was lightning and he died.” His anger had burned out of control, consuming him. The storm and the lightning, the entire day was a muddled memory full of red fury.
“Did your mother call you anything, a nickname?”
He blinked at the change in subject. “Um, yeah, she did. I hadn’t thought about that in years until today. She called me her little mage.”
Bird’s nodded. “I felt the power inside you the moment you walked in the door. Your mother was an Irish witch and she passed on her gifts to you.”
Jesse stared at her. His mother really had been a witch?
“I recognize the name Whelan. It’s a good family history you’ve got there.” Bird gave him a few moments to digest that bit of information but he was still chewing on the fact his mother had been a witch.
“You’ve got questions.”
“Damn right I’ve got questions.” He sat up straighter, although he didn’t let go of Rowan’s hand. He found the sensation of touching her not only empowering but natural. “Who are you?”
Bird sat up straighter. “My name is Mary Elizabeth Larkin, but my mother called me Bird from the moment I was born. The name stuck and I’ve never answered to Mary.”
Jesse narrowed his gaze. “I wasn’t asking your name, Miss Larkin. You run this ranch, you teach Rowan and her sisters what to do, you know my family name, and you tell me I’m a witch. You know things about dangers to the girls, white magic, black magic, people’s thoughts. I’m going to ask again, who are you?”
“I was right about you.” Bird cocked her head. “I am a teacher and protector for the Murphy sisters. I have been with them nearly three years now. I’ve taught them a great deal but they still have years of learning to do since they started so late.”
Jesse frowned. “Why did it take you so long to start teaching them?”
Rowan made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort and Bird’s cheeks flushed. “I had trouble locating them. Their mother had given them great abilities and they naturally, hm, hid themselves from others.”
“You mean they never went outside?” Jesse had a hard time believing that.
“No, more like they made it so others couldn’t sense them. Did you ever just know something without anyone telling you?”
“Sometimes, I suppose I do.” He had assumed everyone did.
“Everyone doesn’t, I assure you, Mr. Nelson. When you met Rowan, how did you feel?”
Now it was his turn to flush. He damn well didn’t want to admit how he reacted but he forced the words out anyway. “I um, felt like I’d been kicked by a horse.”
“That is the power you yield combined with hers.”
“That don’t make any sense.” He had a hard time believing in something he couldn’t see, much less that it existed in him and Rowan. Sometimes folks just liked each other because they did. There didn’t have to be an invisible reason.
Bird looked at him intently. “Think about two twisters spinning separately. What happens if they come together?”
“They twist longer and fiercer.”
“Exactly. That’s what you two have.” The older woman looked between them.
Jesse couldn’t quite understand what she meant but he did know he’d never seen two twisters come together. He’d seen the destruction brought by one though.
“So together we’re gonna tear up houses and barns?”
“He doesn’t understand, Bird. You’re confusing him.” Rowan gripped his hand harder.
Bird sighed and he saw a crack in the unflappable gaze she always wore. “I’ve never met a male witch before. I don’t know how to make him understand.”
Rowan took his chin in her hand and turned his head until he faced. Those incredible blue eyes looked at him with concern.
“Did you ever have two magnets?”
“Sure I did. When I was little.” He used to play with them for hours, picking up nails and bits of metal he could find. Sometimes little black rocks too.
She nodded and a strand of her inky black hair swayed back and forth on her cheek. He had the stupid urge to tuck it behind her ear. “You stuck them together, right? And you had to pry them apart?”
“What? Oh, yeah, I did.”
“Now, did you ever try and force them together on the wrong side? They wouldn’t touch unless they faced the right direction.”
He looked at her finally understanding what she was saying. “We’re like those magnets.”
She smiled and he felt it all the way to his boots. “Exactly. Together we are strong. You and me, we were meant to come together when the time was right. Before that, we couldn’t be together.”
Jesse was overwhelmed by the possibility that he was born to meet Rowan, twenty-seven years later. He’d always felt out of place, certainly after his mother died. When he slept at the Triad, he could finally sleep, deeply and without waking up every hour. He belonged there and Rowan’s magnet drew him forward until he found her.
“Holy shit.”
Bird clapped her hands. “He understands!”
Jesse frowned at her. “But why now? I’ve been kicking around for a dozen years without a home. Why now?”
“I can’t tell you but I can guess it has to do with the girls’ twenty-first birthday.”
“Seems like everything is happening because of their birthday.” Jesse understood it was something special, but exactly why the world was standing on its ear, he didn’t.
Bird and Rowan looked at each other and a silent communication passed between them. He wished had the ability to read their thoughts as apparently Bird could read his. Would come in mighty handy once in a while. Like now.
“The danger has not passed. Whoever or whatever threatens the girls will only try harder now that we recognize its dark intent. It’s important that nothing we spoke of pass out of this room.” Bird was back to her little general self.
“I ain’t saying nothing to nobody. I’d like to get rid of that Dawson fella, though. He’s a pain in the ass.”
Rowan snorted. “I’d like to get rid of him too, but Pa doesn’t. He wants to keep up the relations with neighbors. We can be normal just like everyone else then.”
“I still don’t like him. I’d like to kick his ass back to his own ranch for good.” Jesse felt like he was in one of those twisters, confused and battered by too much at once.
This time Bird let loose a belly laugh that shocked him. “Oh, I do like you, Mr. Nelson. You got gumption underneath all that darkness.”
He shifted in his seat. “Sometimes a man has things he has to take care of himself.” That was about as far as he was going to talk about what happened two years ago to land him in prison. Or what occurred while he was there.
“I can respect your right to do such a thing yourself.” Bird regained her composure quickly. “But if it starts to cast a shadow over Rowan, it becomes my concern.”
Jesse could appreciate her looking after the girls. Truthfully he was a little envious of her loyalty. He had no one to rely on but himself. Slim pickings.
“Now you have us.” Bird got to her feet and headed for the hallway. “Rowan, see him back to the door and don’t dawdle. You need to try to get some more sleep. It’s still three hours until dawn.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Rowan rose and he followed her out onto the porch.
As soon as they stepped outside, the cooler night air bathed his overheated face. He took Rowan’s hand and turned toward her. The moment hung between them, suspended in time. He didn’t plan on kissing her. Yet his mouth headed toward hers and suddenly their lips met. A bolt of lightning couldn’t have hit him harder than kissing the woman of his dreams. She smelled of soap and lavender. He cupped her cheeks, the skin softer than any flower petal.
Her lips moved beneath his, opening to his, her tongue darting out hesitantly. Jesse swallowed back the groan that rose in his throat. His body buzzed with an eagerness to pull her against him, to touch her all over, to possess her.
“Ahem.”
They broke apart so fast, he caught Rowan’s breath in his own, swallowing her gasp. Talulla stood in the doorway.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. Bird told me you needed me.”
“Of course she did.” Rowan didn’t stop looking at Jesse, her breathing quick and the pulse at the base of her throat fluttering. He sure as hell must have looked poleaxed while she looked absolutely stunning. “She didn’t want us alone.”
Talulla stepped back inside. “Good night, Jesse.”
His body throbbing with uneased needs, he took Rowan’s hand and kissed the back, just like a gentleman would. He felt the connection through his arm, right to his heart. Oh, he was in trouble for sure. Rowan Murphy already had him.
Rowan wanted to collapse into a boneless heap. Oh heavens above. Kissing him had just about made her melt into a puddle. He was so hard, so male, so warm. She wanted to wrap her arms around him until they were one being.
“What just happened?” Her sister stood waiting by the steps, worry on her face. “I knew something was happening but I couldn’t figure out what.”
Each of them knew things about each other, an invisible connection that had been there all their lives. When one fell down and scraped her knee, the other two would come running, imaginary pain making their own knees throb.
The kiss with Jesse had been nothing like Rowan had felt before so it was no wonder her sister didn’t understand the feeling. Rowan surely didn’t.
“We need to talk. All of us.”
“Maeve is upstairs.”
“Then let’s go up now.” Rowan grabbed the lantern from the table and headed up to the loft where the girls lived.
Originally the loft had been used for nothing but dust. Rowan had made it her home when she was five. Angry at her friend for not sharing her dolls, her spiteful whisper had sent her friend to the store where she promptly stole a can of peaches. Rowan didn’t understand her power and neither did her sisters. Rowan insisted on living in the loft away from the father who yelled and the housekeepers who called them brujas.
Talulla moved in a month later. After a barn cat she had mothered for six months disappeared, she made a wish that the cat would come back. To her shock, the cat appeared beside her on the bed—in pieces. To her dismay, it had been killed by some kind of animal. She refused to sleep in her bed again and moved into the loft with Rowan.
Maeve was the last one to move up there, a week after Talulla. The class bully had been teasing Talulla until she ran building the room crying. Maeve stared at her slate, fury building inside her and then poof, she’d set the slate and her desk on fire. The entire school burned down and she was expelled for playing with matches. Of course, she had no matches, but she’d scared the bully enough that the boy left all of the Murphy sisters alone. Maeve moved to the loft after that and the three of them refused to go to school if she couldn’t.
The loft became their sanctuary, their place away from the rest of the world where they could be themselves. When it stormed, the rain echoed around them, embracing them. There had been many whispered conversations up there, and the time was almost here for them to leave it behind. After one of the girls married, the circle of three would be broken.
Maeve was sitting in bed with her knees up, watching for them to come upstairs. “You did something with that man, didn’t you?”
“She kissed him and it sure did look like a nice kiss.” Talulla flopped on her own bed, grinning.
“You kissed him?” Maeve appeared curious, hugging her pillow close.
Rowan sat down slowly, her body still humming from the encounter with Jesse. “I knew as soon as I met him that Jesse was the one.”
Talulla gasped. “From your dreams? That one?”
“Yes, it’s him.”
“And you kissed him already? It’s only been a few weeks.” Maeve couldn’t help herself from speaking obviously.
“I already kissed him once. This was the second time. My entire body hums when I kiss him.” Rowan sighed at the memory of just how astonishing kissing Jesse was. “Bird must have sent Talulla to stop us before we went too far.”
“The kiss.” Talulla smiled, her eyes dancing like an imp.
“The kiss.” Maeve’s expression relaxed. “How did it feel?”
Rowan wrapped her arms around herself. “Marvelous. I’m floating on air a little even now.” She lay back on her bed and sighed. The memory of Jesse’s lips, his taste, his heat sent a shiver down her skin that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. Her body was aroused, a new and exhilarating feeling. “I don’t know what will happen next between us but whatever it is, the fates determined it would.”
“I don’t want the fates to pick my man for me.” Maeve said matter-of-factly. “I’ll do the picking.”
“I think it’s romantic.” Talulla sighed. “It certainly looked that way too.”
“Are you sure he’s one of us?” Maeve sat up, concern evident.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Rowan could hardly believe he was one of their kind—a witch! The fates had certainly picked a man who could understand her, although she didn’t know what kind of power he had yet. He could be as powerful as she, or more. The thought made her stomach clench. She really had no idea and she wasn’t sure if the thought excited or scared her. The entire situation made her fluttery inside. “Bird believes his mother was a witch, one who was strong enough to give her son powers.”
They each knew most witches passed on their gifts to female children only. There were few male witches that they knew of, even fewer who could wield power of their own. Jesse was unique.
“This should get interesting.” Maeve hugged her pillow harder. “I’m not sure I like him knowing our secrets when we don’t know his.”
Rowan smiled at the ceiling, content she would find out much more about Jesse. He was destined to be hers, after all, and fate would not be cruel as to take him away from her. She had the rest of their lives to be with him and fall in love with him. It could only get better from here.
Although he’d taken pains to avoid seeing Rowan, Jesse spent the next three days replaying that night over and over in his head. She was a witch. A witch. And hell, according to Bird, so was he.
The one thing that he couldn’t stop thinking about, even more than the magic and witches, was the kiss. That part he didn’t mind thinking about. He dreamed of it each night, the ghost of her scent and the softness of her skin haunted him. God, what he wouldn’t give to taste and touch her again.
He groaned and had to shift his trousers. Rowan set his entire body on fire and damned if he didn’t wake up with a dick harder than blue steel every morning. He couldn’t take care of it with the two roommates he had in the bunkhouse. That meant he walked around with blue balls, aching for release for a woman he might not ever touch.
He was damn sure in trouble and he knew it.
For the dozenth time that day, Buster cuffed him on the back of the head. Jesse pitched forward, hanging onto the fence post so he wouldn’t fall face first into the horse shit in the corral. The old man had taken upon himself to be Jesse’s father. If only he knew just what kind of legacy that was.
“Quit hitting me.”
“Quit your daydreaming, boy. There’s work to be done with this horse and I ain’t doing it myself.” Buster led the colt out of the barn to Talulla, who was working the young ones individually. “Get your head out of your ass, Nelson.”
The colt Talulla just finished with stood beside Jesse, blinking his great brown eye. The horse tossed his head, pulling on the reins a bit. Jesse eased his head back down until he held him close to the bit. “You have no idea how women can make you loco, horse. No idea.”
Blink, blink.
“All right, boy, I’m putting you back in the corral with the others.” As he led the animal out, he focused on the job, not on Rowan. If he wasn’t careful the damn horse could step on his feet, knock him over or even trample him. He’d been lucky this one was relatively calm. Many of the colts hadn’t been gelded and were full of themselves.
Gelding was his least favorite activity and he knew the time was close. Jesse felt it each time, although he knew it was necessary or they’d never be able to be around the mares. They didn’t need a dozen studs, either.
As he released the horse into the corral with the others, he couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful horseflesh in front of him. The young studs pranced around, nipping and kicking at each other in their play. Jesse had never felt that kind of freedom, that tang of life in his mouth. He’d likely never taste it either, not now, not after all he’d done and seen.
“I know’d you was in prison.” Jackson stepped up beside him, putting his elbows on the corral.
Jesse’s gut clenched so hard he tasted his breakfast. Too soon. It was too soon to leave. He liked it at the Triad and then there was Rowan. Another cruel twist of fate leaving ashes in his mouth. His hands fisted.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“A’course you do. I got a friend who works in Cheyenne. I sent him a wire about you.” Jackson turned his muddy brown gaze to Jesse. There wasn’t a hint of warmth. “He wired me back that you’d been out a month. Made a beeline north. How did you end up here, boy?”
Jesse had two choices. He could continue to lie, although the older man obviously already knew the truth, or he could be honest and hope like hell he kept his job. The only other choice was to beat the old man into not revealing what he knew, but that wasn’t a good choice. He had to control the temper that had controlled him for too long.
“I needed a job in the worst way. The old man at the livery told me the Triad was hiring. I walked out here.” Jesse cursed the tightness in his chest, the fury building over what he couldn’t control. He wrapped his fist around his temper and yanked it as hard as he could. The last thing he needed was to unleash the full force of that fury on an old man.
“You walked twenty miles? Jesus, that musta took all day.”
“Near about that, yeah.” Jesse looked down at his hands, ordinary looking but they had caused such grief to him. “I served my time, Jackson, and I ain’t planning on going back.”
There was a minute of silence, an excruciatingly long minute.
“You’s a hard worker, I’ll give you that, but me and Buster, we got to take care of the girls. What with Gus all busted up, he cain’t do it hisself.” Jackson pointed at the horses. “The beasts like you too. I ain’t gonna make trouble for you on this. A man makes a mistake and he pays for it, owns up to it. That don’t mean he has to pay for the rest of his life. But I’m warning you.” He crowded Jesse, leaning in with his bulk. Coffee and tobacco breath spilled out of his mouth in a cloud. “If you hurt any of those girls, or if you take your pecker out even once around them, I’m gonna cut if off and bury you out where no one will find you.”
Jesse stared him down, not cowed by the threat. He’d seen worse, done worse, in prison. Jackson and Buster were sixty if they were a day, slow as hell, and creaked when they walked. Neither one of them could cause much damage against him. They had no idea just how deadly Jesse could be and he didn’t plan on showing them.
“I just want to live in peace and work an honest job. I don’t plan on causing trouble.” Jesse never planned on trouble, but it somehow found him. He’d been hoping to hide from it at the Triad Ranch.
Jackson studied him for another moment before he leaned back. “Then we understand each other. If’n you break that understanding, there ain’t no forgiveness here.”
With that, the grizzled ranch hand walked away, leaving Jesse with a knotted up stomach, a slow burning anger and the knowledge he’d been found out. Damn.
He spent the rest of the day in a shitty mood, trying not to snap at anyone but unable to be civil, so he focused on the horses. With them he could just let his instincts take over and not think too hard.
As he brought one of the mares into her stall to groom her, he spotted the Dawsons’ carriage sitting by the barn door. The horses waited for someone to release them from the traces. Jesse cursed under his breath. That fool was back, no doubt courting Rowan, and he assumed someone would take care of his horses. The man was a complete jackass but the horses shouldn’t suffer.
Jesse secured the mare in her stall and walked to the carriage to take care of the matched bays when he heard a noise. No, it was a moan. A woman’s moan. His foot paused in mid-stride as he tried to make sense of it.
He heard it again and it was definitely a woman. That could only mean one of the triplets was there in the barn doing God knew what. Bird sure as hell wouldn’t make that kind of noise, she’d probably tweet and trill like her namesake.
Jesse crept toward the back of the barn, to the stall used to store bales of hay. A boot scrape, the crinkle of hay, and another moan. He could hardly believe the girls would be back there but there was no mistaking what he heard. Jackson had just yelled at him to keep his pecker to himself. Jesse wondered if he’d told the girls to keep their hands to themselves.
No matter what Gus told them or didn’t tell them, Jesse wasn’t about to let whoever was in there take advantage of one of the Murphy sisters. It wasn’t because they were witches and he was one as well. No, he liked them, or at least two of them. Maeve was nothing but a cold stranger to him but she was a helluva horsewoman. He respected her skills and kept his distance. However he couldn’t let anything happen to the girls, no matter which one it was. The danger to them was real, even if it was strange as hell.
He yanked open the stall door and found Thomas Dawson on top of one of the black-haired sisters on two hay bales put together like a make-shift bed. They were both still clothed at least. Her face was obscured by his bulk, but he recognized the split riding skirt as Rowan’s.
Rowan.
His heart slammed into his ribs. How could she kiss him a few days ago and then be in the barn rolling in the hay, literally, with that son of a bitch? What kind of woman was she? Not what he thought, that was for sure.
“I don’t think your pa would approve of this, Miss Murphy.”
Jesse’s voice startled both of them and Dawson fell off her into the hay below. She sat up and Jesse realized it wasn’t Rowan but it was. They stared at each other while Dawson fumbled to get to his feet. That’s when Jesse knew.
“Maeve, you’re looking mighty different today. Does Rowan know you’re wearing her things?”
“Maeve? Are you blind, stable boy? This is Rowan.” Thomas managed to stand and was currently plucking hay off his fancy clothes. “My intended.”
“First of all, she ain’t your intended. Second, that’s not Rowan.” Jesse leaned against the stall door. “That’s Maeve.”
Maeve narrowed her gaze at Jesse. Lightning couldn’t have been hotter than her expression. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I can probably go fetch Rowan from the house right now if you don’t believe me.” Jesse was satisfied to see her hands curl into fists. She was playing some kind of game here and he wanted no part of it. And even though Dawson was an idiot, he didn’t deserve to be bamboozled by a woman.
“No.” Maeve got to her feet and ran her hands down the front of her borrowed clothing. Without another word, but with plenty said through the dark expression, she left the stall, pushing past Jesse, and stepping on his foot.
Thomas looked as though someone had slapped him. “What happened here?”
“I think Maeve was looking for a husband. Either that or she was sacrificing herself for her sister.” Jesse didn’t want to know which. It was none of his business why she did it. He was just glad he’d stopped her before she took it too far.
“Sacrificing herself?” Thomas frowned at the direction she’d gone. “Do you mean she was going to give herself to me for her sister? I don’t think I like that.”
Jesse had a hard time not laughing at the man. He didn’t like the fact that Maeve had tricked him, no matter what reason she had.
“I suppose I should thank you for, ah, stopping it.” Thomas looked more uncomfortable thanking Jesse than he did being caught nearly taking Maeve on a hay bale.
“No thanks necessary. I was protecting her.” Jesse stood there, arms across his chest, staring at Dawson until he finally left the stall. If Jesse had his druthers, he’d kick the idiot in the ass and toss him off the ranch. But he was a favorite of Gus Murphy, so the kicking wouldn’t happen.
Jesse returned to the mare and curried her, the familiar task a calming one. The mare tossed her head with what he hoped was satisfaction when he finished. She was one female who appreciated him on the ranch. He made sure she had food and water before leaving the stall to go retrieve the next horse.
He glanced out the door and noted the real Rowan talking with Thomas and his simpering sister, Harriett. They both looked at Rowan with uncomfortable expressions. Beyond them, at the corner of the house, stood Maeve, still dressed in her sister’s clothes. It was a strange view, like a double image, one from the right side of the mirror, the other from the dark side. Truthfully it made a shiver skate up his spine.
Thomas helped his sister into the carriage and he tipped his hat at Rowan before climbing up himself. As the Dawsons left the yard, Rowan look down at her feet and he swore he could hear her sigh even though he was twenty yards away. She turned and walked back toward the house, only pausing briefly when she passed Maeve.
Something had happened between them because of Maeve’s actions. He knew the sisters were closer than most folks and now they were at odds with each other. It was a shame too. He hoped his intervention at least stopped anything catastrophic.
When he glanced over at Maeve, she was looking directly at him. That shiver went up his spine again, then back. Even from that far way, he could see her anger shimmer in the afternoon air. He wasn’t afraid of her but damned if she didn’t look deadly, cocked and ready.
Her hands closed into fists, then opened again. Small bursts of flames dripped from her fingertips. At first he did not believe what his eyes were telling him, yet the flames continued to fall from her hands. All the talk of magic hadn’t been anything but talk. Until now.
Hell’s bells, that fire coming from Maeve’s fingers was real as the ground beneath his boots. She had fire coming from her hands. Fire!
She flicked her fingers and a half dozen orange and yellow bursts hit the ground, making the dust puff up in little bursts. She did it with both hands, once, twice, three times, never letting her gaze wander even for a moment from Jesse’s face.
Was she threatening him? He had a chill from her demonstration—who wouldn’t after seeing someone with fire coming from their fingers? However, he sure as hell wasn’t afraid. No, in fact, his gut churned with anger at what she did to try to scare him. Did she think he was a sissy? Run from a girl with fire-breathing hands?
He straightened up and walked toward her. No chance Jesse would be cowed by a woman, or a witch. His own hands twitched and he felt a warmth building in his gut. When he had covered half the distance between them Talulla appeared from the corral and stopped to stare at Maeve.
He couldn’t hear exactly what she said, but Maeve looked at her and shook her head. Talulla turned to look at him, and Maeve threw up her hands and disappeared around the corner of the house. The tightness inside his gut eased and the moment dissolved into nothing but indigestion. Talulla shrugged and continued walking toward the barn.
Jesse didn’t know what had just happened between he and Maeve but he had a feeling it wasn’t the last time they would confront each other. He just hoped she wouldn’t throw fireballs at him too fast so he’d have time to duck.
For now he needed to talk to Rowan about what he saw. She had a right to know. To hell with Maeve and her fury. Jesse had loyalty to consider and that far outweighed a pouting twenty-year-old with an attitude.
He made his way to the house in search of Rowan.
Rowan couldn’t concentrate. Heck, she hadn’t been able to concentrate in three days, not since the confession, the revelation, the kiss. The ghost of Jesse’s kiss stayed on her lips and her mind constantly. It was her first kiss and it was a whopper, one that hovered over her, teasing her, testing her.
She had wanted so badly to find him, grab him and kiss him again. Every waking moment, and every sleeping moment, she had wanted. To combat the urge, she avoided him. It was a cowardly act, without question, but it was self-preservation that drove her to it. Maeve had been right—Rowan had been losing herself in Jesse without much effort.
The ledger book in front of her sat opened to the page she had started on an hour earlier. No marks or changes had been made. Rowan sat there daydreaming about Jesse, again, and didn’t get a single thing accomplished, again.
When boots sounded in the hallway, she nearly jumped out of her skin. She bent over the ledger and ran down the column of numbers although she hadn’t the remotest idea what figures she was even looking at.
“Rowan?”
Her body exploded in a cascade of tingles at the sound of his deep voice. She didn’t let a smidge of that show on her face when she glanced up at him.
Heaven above, but the man was beautiful. She knew firsthand what that strong jaw felt like against hers. Unfortunately she hadn’t had a chance to explore the cleft in his chin but it fascinated her. He stood there, hat in hand, those whiskey brown eyes watching her.
Rowan started, embarrassed to be caught mooning over him while he stood there and waited for her to speak. “Uh, yes?”
He twirled the hat on his hand. “I need to talk to you if you’re not too busy with the books.”
If only he knew just how not busy she was, and that he was the cause. Or rather she was the cause but it was him who drove her to distraction. Her brain couldn’t keep up with the ridiculous excuses and she simply gave up.
“I’m not busy at all. Please sit.” She gestured to the chair opposite her.
The leather creaked when he sat down and suddenly it looked like a very small chair. It never had before but Jesse’s size dwarfed it. He was tall, big, amazing shoulders. Boy howdy, Rowan was intrigued by the width of his shoulders, nearly wider than the chair he sat on.
“…and I don’t want this to become a battle but I think it already has.”
Oh he’d been talking. Yes he sure had and she was focused on his body and shoulders. Rowan’s cheeks couldn’t have been hotter if she’d held a burning stick to them.
“I’m sorry, I was woolgathering. Can you repeat that?” Her voice tripped a little, breaking on the last word. Rowan had never been so out of sorts in her life. Jesse just set her off-kilter as soon as he stepped into her presence. He didn’t even have to look at her or speak, she just fell into little bits of foolishness.
His mouth compressed into a thin white line and she realized whatever he was telling her was serious. She leaned forward and put her elbows on the desk.
“Jesse, please forgive me. I was distracted. I’m listening, I promise.”
After a moment, he started speaking again. “I think your sister is up to no good.”
Rowan’s first reaction was to defend whichever sister it was and tell him to go to hell. She held onto that by its tail and waited to hear what else he had to say. After all, he knew a great deal about the sisters others did not.
“I was bringing one of the mares into a stall to groom her when I heard, ah, noises. I followed the sounds into the big hay stall in the back.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Dawson was, um, sparking something fierce with someone dressed exactly like you.”
Rowan’s heart slammed into her throat. She had come upon Maeve and Thomas arguing in the yard, and could not for the life of her figure out why her sister was dressed in her clothes. Either that or she knew why and didn’t want to believe it of her sister.
“Go on.”
He cleared his throat before continuing. “I interrupted them, which stopped the, uh, sparking. When I saw it was Maeve and not you, I asked her why she was dressed that way. Dawson claimed it was you he’d been on top of.”
Rowan absorbed his words one at a time, like bitter pills she didn’t want to swallow. Maeve would not have practiced such deception. She could not have not without good reason.
“What are you trying to say?”
“When I pointed out that she was Maeve, she didn’t deny it. In fact she didn’t even correct Dawson, fool that he is, and clarify he knew all alone who she was. He didn’t know until I told him.” Jesse looked at her with a pained expression. He knew his tale would cause her pain.
It had. Oh, it had.
“Tell me exactly what they were doing.” Her voice was husky with emotion.
Jesse hesitated, twirling his hand on his hand in a slow circle.
“Now, please.” She had to understand what had happened. Then she could find Maeve and find out why.
“They’d pushed a few bales together to make a, uh, bed of sorts. He was on top of her and some buttons were undone.” His gaze never left his hat.
“What do you think would have happened if you hadn’t stopped them?”
His head snapped up and grim recognition stole across his face. “I think she meant to seduce him and then tell him who she really was. I don’t know if she was trying to save you or keep him for herself. I do know she was ready to light me on fire for interrupting.”
Rowan pushed her way through the confusion and focused on what he’d just said. “Light you on fire?” Maeve’s power was fire, but she was sworn not to use it except in self-defense.
“This is where it gets real odd. After I finished with the mare, I went back out to get another. Maeve was standing there staring at me.” He looked at the ground again before he looked back at her. She nodded to encourage him to continue. “Little bits of fire dripped from her hands onto the ground, over and over. She looked at me like she was ready to burn me up for what I done.”
Rowan took a deep breath and tried to tell herself it couldn’t possibly be. Maeve would not have threatened Jesse. She would not have seduced Thomas pretending to be Rowan. She would not have fallen into the dark side of magic for her own gain.
Yet Jesse had no reason to lie. None at all. And she had seen Maeve dressed in her clothes. Thomas would not say why he left so abruptly nor would he tell her why he was arguing with her sister. The pieces were scattered before, but now they were a picture. An ugly one.
“You’re telling me she dressed as me to seduce Thomas, then after you stopped it, she threatened you with fire.”
“That’s about the sum of it. I don’t want this to be a battle but I think it already is. She woulda shot me if she had a gun. I believe that to be true.” Jesse wounded so sincere, she couldn’t help but believe him.
“Thank you for telling me. I know it wasn’t easy.” She managed a shaky smile when she really wanted to find a basin and vomit. Her stomach roiled like it was in a butter churn.
To her surprise, he reached over and put his hand on hers. The warmth of his skin penetrated her cold, clammy one and she immediately felt better. Not completely better, but definitely more than moments before.
“I’m sorry I had to come in here and tell you. I didn’t think it was right what she did but she must’ve had her reasons. I’ve only been here a few weeks but I feel like I need to protect you, uh, all of you I mean.” He squeezed her hand before releasing it. Rowan barely held back the plea to keep his hand there.
Jesse left the room and she sat there, listening to the thunk of his boots on the floor as he left the house. Rowan lowered her head to the desk and focused on breathing. Maeve had crossed the line, had done magic, had threatened Jesse, had deceived. It was all too much to take in at once.
In a short time she would have to confront Maeve and be strong when she did it. But for just a minute, Rowan let herself be weak.