Follow The Wind
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Excerpt
Other Books By
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Epilogue
ROMANCE FROM JANELLE TAYLOR
Copyright
A Night to Remember
“It’s dangerous for me to stay around you tonight,” Navarro warned.
“I know,” Jessie answered.
“Do you?” he asked. “We may not have much time together. It isn’t fair to let you believe we do. This could be our only night together. That isn’t much to offer a woman like you.”
“I want more than one night from you, Navarro. But if that is all you can give for now, so be it.”
“Not just for now, Jessie, forever. I won’t guide you down a false trail of pretty lies and broken promises. You’re too special for that.”
“For as long and as much as you can share yourself with me, Navarro, I want you.”
As Navarro pulled Jessie into his arms and kissed her, she put her arms around his neck and returned the ardent embrace. She felt strange and wonderful all over. If she couldn’t capture this dream, then she would enjoy it for one beautiful night…
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Follow
The Wind
Janelle
Taylor
Dedicated with love to:
my husband, Michael,
my two daughters, Melanie Taylor and Angela Taylor
Reffett
and my son-in-law, Mark
And with
much love and pride for my first grandchild,
Mark Alexander Reffett
Acknowledgments and Thanks to:
the staffs of historical Forts Concho, Davis, and Stockton in Texas; the wonderful people in San Angelo and San Antonio; the staffs of the Texas tourists bureaus and chambers of commerces across the Lone Star State; and to the many friends we made as we researched and camped along my characters’ trail. The staff at Fort Davis was particularly helpful with books and information. We arrived during a historical celebration that featured reenactments and demonstrations of fort life, 1800s clothing and weapons, riding formation-saber-pistol-cannon demonstrations, and much more. “Fort Davis is today one of the most complete surviving examples of the typical western military fort to be found” (Fort Davis: Historical Handbook Number 38, by Robert Utley). It was fun and educational to be present on such a special occasion. Thanks to all you Texans who made my research there so pleasant and unforgettable.
A special note of thanks to my in-laws, Joe and Betty Taylor, and to my friend, Terri Gibbs Daughtry, for teaching me so much about the courage and humor it takes to overcome disabilities. They were inspirations for Tom and Navarro.
Chapter One
“A cold-blooded gunslinger is exactly what we need, Papa. A man who can strike as quickly and accurately as a rattlesnake, one without a conscience.”
“Men like that can’t be trusted, Jess. We’d never be able to control him. The way my luck is running these days, he’d rope up with Fletcher and betray us.”
“Papa, you always said even a bad man has a crazy streak of loyalty toward the man who hires him or when he gives his word on something. If we pay him enough, he can be bought. If we don’t get help soon, Wilbur Fletcher will own this land and we’ll be buried on it. Or left to feed the coyotes and buzzards; that would be more like the evil bastard.”
“Jess!” her father shouted in dismay. “Watch your tongue. Your ma and me never allowed you children to speak such words. This trouble is weighing heavy on all of us. It’s got us to thinking, talking, and acting loco.” Jedidiah Lane wiped the sweat and dust from his wrinkled face and took a deep breath.
“That’s my meaning, Papa; we have to stop it soon or be destroyed. I know you don’t want a dangerous gunslinger around and I know how you hate to seek help, but we must. The soldiers and Sheriff Cooper can’t do the job, and we can’t handle it alone. What else can we do?”
They had had this disturbing talk several times before, but Jed was still reluctant to admit he could not defend his land and family against the easterner who had itchy hands for his ranch and seemed ready and willing to do anything to get it. Jed ran his dirty fingers through graying auburn hair, then drew a bucket of water. As they did every day, he and Jess had halted at the well behind the house to wash up before going inside for their evening meal.
“Listen to me, Papa; the time for talking and praying is over. You know I would never suggest such a desperate plan if there was any other way to defeat Fletcher. What’s so wrong with it? He has gunslingers on his payroll. We need a man who thinks like they do, a man who can outwit and outgun them. We can’t fight and take care of the ranch at the same time. This is one of our busiest seasons. If we hire a gunslinger, he can handle Fletcher and his men for us while we tend to the branding and planting. At least he can teach us how to thwart him.”
As Jed rolled his sleeves, he reasoned in a weary tone, “What can one man do, Jess? We have fifteen hands and it’s made no difference. Fletcher still does as he pleases. If Sheriff Cooper or the Army gave us a little help, we could trap and stop that sorry bas—” He halted before saying the same crude word he had scolded Jessie for using. “Over the years we’ve endured many hardships, but this trouble is different. We know Wilbur Fletcher is behind it. No month passes without another offer from him to buy our spread.”
Jed splashed cold water on his face. His joints ached and he moved slower these days, reminding him that he wouldn’t always be around to protect and provide for his loved ones. If only Alice were at his side. If he lost his mother, his children, and the ranch…
“Papa, you aren’t listening,” Jessie said, tugging at his arm and worrying over another of these recent withdrawals into dreamy distance. “The Army and the sheriff told us they can’t do anything without proof. They won’t even look for any until they have ‘just reason.’ I understand they can’t camp here to observe; Fletche
r would only lie low until they left. But they’re the law; they should do something, anything. While they’re waiting for him to make a mistake, he’s getting stronger and bolder, and we’re getting closer to that cliff he wants to push us over. Please let me ride into San Angelo and search for a gunslinger. I’ll be gone less than two weeks. Then we can have this trouble settled before summer.”
Jedidiah Lane looked at his daughter with indecision in his dark-blue eyes. Her reddish-brown hair hung to her waist in a thick braid that had loosened itself during her labors. Her face was flushed with excitement and anger. Jed shook his head when he saw that her sky-blue eyes that should be filled with peace and joy instead sparkled with determination and hatred. His gaze swept the petite body clad in men’s clothing. She looked so fragile, but he knew she was strong. He was so used to having Jessie at his side and doing a man’s share of work that he often forgot she was a girl. No, he corrected himself, at twenty-four, she was a young woman, a beautiful creature. He often worried that some man would steal her from him, and he didn’t know how he would exist without her. “You can’t go into a rowdy town like that, Jess. I’ll send Matt or one of the hands.”
That wasn’t what Jessica Marie Lane wanted to hear. She needed distance to cool her anger and clear her head. She had to find a way to help her father. She also wanted time away from the trouble and her responsibilities. Though she loved the ranch and her family dearly, she needed time to relax and think. Jessie wasn’t sure if her father realized just how dangerous Wilbur Fletcher was. It had been she and their foreman, Matt Cordell, who had convinced her father that Fletcher was behind their recent troubles. Her father had created the Box L and had made it succeed through many lean years. In a way, Jedidiah Lane didn’t think anyone or anything could wrestle it from his grasp. It sounded as if she finally had persuaded him they needed outside assistance, and she wanted to select the best man for the job.
“I stand a better chance of finding and hiring the right man than any of them do, Papa. You know I can take care of myself. I’ll take Big Ed with me and be on the alert every minute. You need Matt and the others to remain here to run the ranch and watch out for Fletcher.”
“Maybe you can locate a retired Texas Ranger,” Jed replied as a concession. “You know how skilled they are.”
Her tone was respectful but firm as she said, “No, Papa. A Ranger has law running through his veins. He would try to handle this matter like an assignment, like a lawman. We need a man with a killer instinct, one who follows our orders, no matter what they are. We might have to do things a Ranger wouldn’t allow. Fletcher doesn’t respect or obey the law or any code of honor, and we can’t either. Good men don’t always win, Papa. Nor can we take a Christian attitude and turn the other cheek. This trouble isn’t going to stop until one of us loses. To win, we have to fight like he does: mean, dirty, and clever.”
Jed stiffened. “We aren’t like that, Jess. We’re good, honest, hardworking folk. If we start breaking the law, we’re no better than Fletcher is. This thing has to be handled right.”
“Good won’t win over Evil this time, Papa, unless we fight Fletcher on his terms. You always say, ‘When a man wallows in the mud, he gets up dirty.’ The truth is, mud will wash off, Papa, but six feet of dirt can’t be pushed away from the inside. We have to face bitter reality: it’s kill or be killed.”
Jed sighed wearily. “In the past, I’ve used my wits and courage to defeat strong forces, like those Apaches and Comanches and rustlers and even nature. Blood has rarely been shed on my land. I kept praying that Fletcher would give up his hunger for the Box L Ranch, might even return East or move to another area. Perhaps you’re right in saying the man will never give up. If so, you must be right this time, too. I depend on you, Jess, and trust you completely. You’re smart. You’re proud and tough like me, but gentle and wise like your ma was. For twenty-six years, this has been my land, my heart, Jess. After I made claim on it with the government’s approval, my Alice used her inheritance to buy our first stock and supplies. We worked side by side creating this spread. We faced droughts, rustlers, sickness, hunger, cattle disease, poverty in bad times, and my pa’s death. Until we built this house with our bare hands, we lived in a tent, then a shack. We watched two sons die and we buried them out there. I watched my sweet wife suffer and leave me, and my hands were tied by God. Fate dealt me many crushing blows, Jess, but I overcame every one. Sometimes I’m too stubborn, and even reckless, but I won’t give up to nothing and nobody. My sweet Alice and two sons are buried on this land; so is my pa. I’ll be buried next to them one day.”
Jed’s voice grew hoarse with emotion. “Sometimes I got depressed and tired. But I haven’t felt this helpless and angry since Alice and the boys died. Ma is getting old and weak, and Pa’s been gone a long time. You’ve been like a son to me, Jess. I taught you to do anything a man can do, sometimes even better than most men, so you can take care of this spread when it’s yours. If I have to die for my home and family, so be it. But I won’t die without doing all I can to stay alive and to hold on.” He drew another deep breath and wiggled his sore shoulders to loosen his muscles. “You best leave at first light before I change my mind. I’ll go tell Matt and Big Ed our plan. Be real careful-like, Jess. If anything happened to you, I couldn’t bear it. You’re the rose of my heart and life, girl. When your ma was taken from me…”
“I know, Papa,” she responded, hugging him in gratitude and to bring him solace. “I still miss her, too. I’ll be fine. Before you can round up the calves for spring branding, I’ll be home again, with help. You’ll see, Papa, that rattlesnake won’t bite us again without suffering several strikes in return.”
Jessie watched her father head for the bunkhouse, his shoulders slumped and his expression somber. He hadn’t reminisced this way before, and now she knew what had been on his troubled mind. Although they were closer than most fathers and daughters, Jed usually kept his worries and fears penned inside. Jedidiah Lane was a strong, tough, independent man and he had taught his heir to be the same way; but this frustrating situation was overwhelming him, and that saddened her.
It also made Jessie feel guilty about the many times she had resented being depended upon so much. She resented the fact that her older brother’s death had caused this duty and burden to fall on her back, forcing her to make herself tough enough to bear them. She resented being a “son” instead of a daughter. She hated those feelings, but couldn’t help them.
She wanted romance, love, marriage, her own home and children. But there was little chance of meeting and marrying anyone if her life didn’t change. Even if she did meet a man, how could she leave with him? What would happen to her father, her grandmother, to her disabled brother, to this beloved ranch, to her immature sister until Mary Louise wed? If her father had an accident, who would take care of him and the Box L Ranch? Gran and Tom couldn’t, and her self-centered sister wouldn’t. She was trapped here by her responsibilities.
Besides, her blood, tears, and sweat were on this land, too. She loved it as much as Jed did. It would belong to her one day. She knew her father hadn’t meant to cause her pain. He loved her even more than his other two children because she was so close and helpful to him. Jessie knew that her father had difficulty expressing love since her mother’s death. She believed that he was afraid that whomever he loved deeply would be taken from him.
No doubt, she mused, her father yearned for a love to replace the wonderful one he had lost. Surely there had to be more to life than hard work for both of them. But how, when, and where could she find a true love?
By all accounts, Jessie fretted, she was a spinster! Was it, she asked herself, so terrible to experience nibbles of resentment once in a while? Was it so awful, so wicked, so selfish of her to sometimes think, What about me? To sometimes want to live her life for herself instead of always for others? Maybe someone special would ride into her life one day. Stop dreaming, Jessie. You have work to do.
“Father said
you can do what?” Mary Louise shrieked.
Jessie glanced at her younger sister, whose dark blue eyes were wide with astonishment. “Ride to San Angelo to hire help against Wilbur Fletcher,” she repeated.
“That is ridiculous! You and Father will get us all killed.”
“It’s the only path left open to us. I’m tired. We’ll talk later,” she said, hoping to end the conversation before an argument could begin. “We’ve been repairing cut fences and gathering strays since sunrise. I have to get packed. I’m leaving at dawn.”
“I’m going with you,” Mary Louise stated.
“You can’t. We have to ride fast and hard. You know what that terrain is like. Besides, there isn’t time for shopping or playing.”
“I never get to go anywhere or do anything fun!” Mary Louise pouted. “I’m stuck in this godforsaken wilderness without friends or diversions!”
As she gathered clothes for her journey, Jessie reasoned, “One day, all this trouble will be over, and you’ll have plenty of both. Be patient, Mary Louise.”
“Never! It’s too spread out and wild here. We’re practically cut off from life by mountains and deserts. The only close neighbor we have is Mr. Fletcher, and you two think he’s our enemy. None of you care if I grow old and die here. I hate it. Father should sell out and move us back to civilization.”
Jessie knew it was futile to debate Mary Louise’s last statement. Continuing to pack, she replied, “You’re exaggerating. There are several towns and posts within a day or two of us. We go there for supplies and holidays. And there are other ranches within a few days’ ride. We aren’t that secluded, little sister.”
“What good are they to me? I’m never allowed to visit them for more than a few hours or overnight. And there’s no one proper to meet there. We have no entertainment, as you can’t call barn dances much fun. I’m lonely and bored.”