Follow The Wind Read online

  “There’s plenty to do. For one thing, Gran needs help in the kitchen. You know she can’t get around like she used to. She’s seventy now and needs help. If you’d stop complaining all the time, you’d find plenty to keep yourself busy.”

  “With slave labor? I shouldn’t have to feed chickens, milk cows, grub in the vegetable garden, clean house, and do washing. Father can hire servants to tend us. All my friends at school had them. We aren’t poor, you know.”

  “We don’t need to fritter away hard-earned money on servants when we can do our own chores. Besides, we don’t have an extra room for a female helper, and she can’t live in the bunkhouse with fifteen men.”

  “If Tom went off to school as I had to do, she could use his room like Rosa did before she ran off to marry that drifter.”

  “He wasn’t a drifter. He was a seasonal wrangler, and she loved him. It was time for Tom to move out of Gran’s room; they both need privacy. And you know why he can’t go off to school. The boys would give him a hard time, and he’d be miserable. You’re smart, little sister. If you help me with Tom’s lessons each day, he’ll learn far more than I can teach him alone. That would give you something important to do.”

  Mary Louise glared at Jessie, then flipped her sunny curls over her shoulder. “I’m no schoolmarm, and I won’t be treated as one.”

  “Teaching your own brother isn’t going to make you a schoolmarm. He needs help, Mary Louise. Between the two of us—”

  “No. I do enough work around here as it is.”

  Jessie looked at her sister’s perfect features, currently hardened by a pout. Mary Louise was two inches taller than her own five feet four inches. On occasion Jessie wished she had her sister’s tame golden tresses instead of her own auburn hair that sometimes frizzed into small, loose curls or tufted on the ends to do as it pleased unless controlled by a snug braid. Her sister’s eyes sparkled like precious jewels, expensive sapphires. The lucky blonde had an attention-stealing figure, whereas—even though she was four years older-Jessie was less filled out in the bust and hips. Men always noticed Mary Louise in a crowd. The bad thing was that Mary Louise was too aware of her exquisite beauty and the power it gave her. When it suited her, she used those charms and wiles without mercy. Jessie was glad she didn’t have her sister’s sorry attitude and personality, or Mary Louise’s insensitive and selfish nature.

  Annoyed by now, Jessie responded a little harshly, “You do very little, and you know it. Gran isn’t a tattler, but I know she covers for your laziness many times. What have you done today? From the way you’re dressed as if for a party, I doubt very little. It isn’t fair to put your work on Gran’s tired shoulders.”

  “It isn’t fair to force me to live here and work like a servant.”

  Provoked, Jessie asked, “If you want to leave so badly, why don’t you accept a position as schoolmarm in a large town or in a private school like you attended? It’s a very respectable job. You’re smart enough to do anything you wish.”

  “Smart enough to find a way out of here one day, but not by teaching brats!”

  “I’m sure you will, little sister. Just make certain the trail you take from home is a good and safe one. Life isn’t as easy as you think.” Jessie realized that her sister was more bitter, spoiled, and resentful than she had imagined. That troubled her deeply, but she didn’t want to deal with this constant irritation tonight. “You’ve been home from school for nearly two years, Mary Louise. It’s past time to forget the East and stop making yourself so miserable.”

  “I am miserable. I hate it out here. There’s nothing but heat, work, and solitude. I’m beautiful and educated, but how can I meet a proper husband or friends in this wilderness? I will not wither and die as a spinster, Jessica!”

  Ever since she’d come back from school, Mary Louise had been different. She called Papa “Father” and Jess “Jessica.” The girl made everyone miserable!

  The blonde continued. “This harsh land killed Mother. Look at pictures of her when she was young. She was beautiful and shapely. When she died, she looked old and worn. That isn’t going to happen to me. She never recovered fully from Tom’s horrible birth. It’s too hard on a delicate woman out here, and I refuse to live and work and look like a man as you do, Jessica Lane.”

  “Tom’s birth was difficult, but Mama died of a fever she caught from that drifter. You can’t blame Tom,” she scolded.

  “If he’d never been born, she wouldn’t have been so weak and gotten sick.”

  “Mary Louise Lane! That’s a horrible thing to say.”

  “We’re lucky we weren’t born deformed, too. Mother had trouble bearing children; she lost two others, you know that. Father treated her as one of his brood mares. She was too frail after Tom to risk another child, but he didn’t care.”

  “That isn’t true,” Jessie countered. “Davy died when he was two, and the other baby shortly after birth. Tom was seven years old, so Mama wasn’t still ailing from his hard birth. That’s a mean thing to say, little sister, and a terrible thing to think.”

  Undaunted, Mary Louise retorted, “If Davy hadn’t died, you wouldn’t be Father’s son. You would be married and have children. If Mother were still alive, she’d have forced him to leave this ranch land by now.”

  “Mama loved it here. We all do, except you.”

  “If she were still alive, she’d hate it, too. She would realize what it was costing her to remain. It will steal our beauty and drain us dry, Jessica, if we don’t get away soon. Talk to Father; he listens to you. We could have such a grand life near a big town.”

  “I love this ranch as much as Papa does. I’m sorry home and family don’t mean the same to you any more. And I’m sorry you’ve been so unhappy since your return. We missed you those five years you were gone. You might be happier if you tried.”

  Chilliness filled the girl’s eyes and tone. “If I were missed and loved so much, I wouldn’t have been sent away and kept away for so many years. I can’t be blamed for falling in love with civilization. I feel like a stranger, an intruder, here.”

  “That’s your doing, little sister. But you were loved and missed. Mama wanted you to be educated as a lady in the way she was. Before she died, Papa promised her he’d make sure you were. If I hadn’t been eighteen already, he would have sent me, too. The only reason I didn’t go was because when I was the right age the war had just ended and there was still trouble back there. And we couldn’t afford it after the war took its toll on everyone. Mama did her best to teach me here, just as I’m doing with Tom. Besides, Papa and I couldn’t take care of you, Tom, and Gran properly while working the ranch. Gran was sick back then and had her hands full with Tom. Papa didn’t send you away to be mean, Mary Louise. How can you resent the years back East? You so clearly love them as the best in your life.”

  “You wouldn’t understand, Jessica. You’ve never seen the places I have or done the things I have. You’ve never had friends around all the time. I miss them. Letters aren’t the same, and Father refuses to let me go visit them. If you knew what the outside world was like, you’d do anything to get away.”

  Jessie was aware she didn’t have any close female friends, but she did have some nice acquaintances who she saw occasionally in town or on special occasions. There were plenty of men on the ranch and in town, but it was true that none of them courted her. Here, the hands sometimes treated her as a sister, but more often as “one of the boys” because she worked with them daily doing the same tasks. Only infrequently had a seasonal cowpuncher paid attention to her as. a woman, but she had never been tempted to encourage one beyond a stolen kiss.

  Sometimes, Jessie admitted, she did want to see other places, make real friends, do exciting things, and find love like she read about in books and old magazines. Maybe that was another reason why this trip to San Angelo was so important to her. But her place was here, and she had accepted that, not threatened to find a way to change it as Mary Louise did. Yet her sister was accustome
d to another kind of life. Jessie was trying to understand her feelings, but Mary Louise was so greedy and rebellious. If that was what “civilization” did to a woman, Jessie concluded, she didn’t want it.

  “We’re so different now, Mary Louise, but we are sisters. If only you would—”

  “Sisters help each other, Jessica. If you truly love me and want what’s best for me, you’ll convince Father to send me back East, at least for a long visit. His stubborn selfishness is going to get us all killed.”

  Jessie knew if the girl left, she would never return, and perhaps that would be best for everyone. But she didn’t want Mary Louise hurt or endangered in her desperation to escape the life she hated. The girl couldn’t be reasoned with, so Jessie decided to drop the distressing matter for now. “I wish you didn’t feel that way. I have to finish packing. Please go help Gran with supper.”

  “It’s dinner, Jessica. How like a rough, unmannered man you’ve become over the years without Mother here to guide you.”

  Vexed, Jessie snapped, “What can you expect after being Papa’s ‘son’ since birth and working every day like a man?” She instantly regretted her words and continued in a softer tone, “But you’re wrong; I know I’m a woman. I want to find love and marriage one day, but first this trouble has to be settled. And it will be after I return with help.”

  Mary Louise grinned with satisfaction at Jessie’s irritation. “How can you find a decent husband? All you see are crude cowboys, penniless drifters, and rough soldiers. If you married one, like moon-eyed Matt, you’d be stuck here forever, slaving on the land and pushing out babies. Not me, Jessica. I’m going to leave. I’m going to marry a rich and handsome man. I’m going to travel and be pampered as I deserve. Look at yourself in the mirror. You’re as tanned as a cowboy. You wear your hair braided, and you hardly ever don a dress. The sun and work are sapping what little beauty you have. In a few years, even that will be gone. Perhaps even old Mathew Cordell won’t desire you then.”

  Jessie gazed at Mary Louise, who was standing with hands on shapely hips and a devilish gleam in her deep-blue eyes. A challenging expression was on the blonde’s face, but Jessie responded calmly. “Matt is our foreman and my friend, nothing more. He’s never tried to catch my eye, not that he isn’t ruggedly good-looking. I respect him. He’s dependable, hardworking, and kind.”

  Mary Louise laughed mischievously. “And nearing forty. Of course, you are only ten to fifteen years younger! When Father dies, you’ll need a man to help you. Matt’s already well trained, and your choices are few. By all accounts, big sister, you’re already a spinster at twenty-four.”

  The redhead frowned at those mean words. Jessie wondered what her sister had noticed about their foreman that she hadn’t. Or was it a joke, an attempt to point out that the best choice of husbands was a man Mary Louise considered beneath them? Matt was a good man, but there was no magic between them, only friendship. “Why do you keep teasing me about him lately? Does he appeal to you too much for your liking, considering he’s too poor and honest to be useful to you? I can’t wait to see whom you choose to fulfill your dreams.”

  “It won’t be a cowpuncher with dirty fingernails and dusty clothes. My choice won’t stink of horses, sweat, and manure. He won’t be uncouth and uneducated. He’ll be wealthy, powerful, and educated. He’ll adore me and spoil me.”

  Spoil you? You’re already spoiled more rotten than old eggs in an abandoned nest! “I wish you luck, little sister. Until you find him, you have work to do. Papa will be angry if you don’t get busy helping Gran with supper.”

  “Luck, Jessica, isn’t what I need. I have wits, beauty, and determination. What I need is opportunity, and it will knock on my door one day very soon.”

  What you have are dreamy eyes, little sister, and enough greed to fill a thousand bottomless barrels. You’re lazy, vain, and defiant. Who will want to tame a selfish critter like you? I wish Mama were here to straighten you out!

  Jessica Marie Lane sat at the table with her father, sister, brother, and grandmother. Her emotions were in a turmoil after her talk with Mary Louise. To distract herself, she remarked, “The chicken and dumplings are wonderful, Gran. I wish I could cook like you. Every time I try, it never turns out like yours.”

  The older woman smiled. “I’m glad I cooked your favorite tonight. You be careful on this trip, Jessie. We’ll miss you and pray for you.”

  Jed had told his mother about their plans before Jessie joined them at the dinner table. He glanced up from his plate and said, “She’ll be fine, Ma.”

  Mary Louise scoffed, “I think it’s an absurd idea, Father, and a dangerous one. When Mr. Fl—”

  Her tone and words stung Jedidiah Lane. “It’s not for you to correct me, girl. This is the only thing I can do to keep my land and family safe.”

  Jed’s rebuke provoked Mary Louise to defiance. “You can sell out, Father. We could move to a more civili—”

  “Hush such silly talk, girl. I claimed this land and made this ranch from blood and sweat and hard work. No man is going to drive me off it. You should be more like your sister,” he added unwisely.

  “I’m not Jessica, Father. You know how I feel about living in this wilderness. Let me visit Sa—”

  “You’ve bellyached enough for everybody in Texas to know how unhappy you are. You’ve been stickier than a cactus since you came home from that fancy school. If I’d known it was going to ruin you, I would never have kept my promise to your ma to send you there. I’m tired of your grumbling and laziness and having to tell you ten times to do something or make you do it over to get it right. I told you a hundred times you aren’t going back East to get worse, so don’t ask again. I’m warning you, girl: correct yourself and stop this whining or I’ll straighten you out with a strap.” Jed wasn’t one to strike his children, but his younger daughter’s disobedience and haughty manner had worn thin.

  “But, Fa—”

  “No buts or arguing, girl. I didn’t raise you to be a weakling or a griper.”

  Mary Louise fell silent, but her eyes exposed the fury within her to everyone.

  It was obvious to all present that Martha Lane tried to hurry past the awkward and fiery moment by questioning her son and oldest granddaughter about their plans to thwart Wilbur Fletcher. The talk went smoothly for a while.

  Tom, the girls’ thirteen-year-old brother, was excited and pleased about the decision to hire a gunslinger. “I can’t wait to meet him, Jessie. How will you pick him?”

  Jessie’s sky-blue gaze met her brother’s greenish one, and she smiled at him with deep affection. She saw him squint to see her clearly; the round glasses he had gotten from the doctor at Fort Davis were not strong enough to correct his bad vision. Jessie loved him dearly, and she wished his twisted foot and bad eyes had not made such a terrible mark on his young life. She knew that Mary Louise was embarrassed by their brother’s disabilities, but she had not known how deeply the girl resented Tom. Jessie gazed at his freckled face and tousled dark-red hair. No one was more aware of Tom’s problems than Tom himself, and that saddened her. Jessie’s smile broadened and she said in a whispery, playful tone, “I’ll play the fox, Tom, and sneak around watching them. Then I’ll make my choice.”

  “I wish I could help,” Tom murmured. “That Fletcher wouldn’t give us trouble if I was big and strong and good with a gun. If I could ride and shoot, I’d take care of him for you and Pa.”

  “The best you can do for now, boy, is keep to your studies.”

  “I will, Pa,” the boy replied in disappointment and with a hunger for approval.

  Jessie looked at Tom’s lowered head. “I’m sure you would be a big help, Tom, but you’re a mite young to be taking on gunslingers and their evil boss.”

  Tom knew age wasn’t his problem; his disabilities were. He smiled at his older sister who loved him and helped him more than anyone else. His forefinger pushed his straying glasses, for what little good they did him, back into place and he returne
d to his meal.

  “You’ve been quiet, Gran. Are you tired, or just overly worried about me?”

  Martha Lane looked at her eldest granddaughter. “Only a little, child. If there’s one thing about you, Jessie, it’s that you get done what you set your mind to doing. If it’s a gunslinger you need, you’ll come home with one. And I’ve no doubts he’ll be the best man for the job.”

  “Thanks, Gran,” Jessie responded gratefully.

  After the meal and dishes were finished, Tom returned to his attic room to complete his studies. Jed went to his desk to work on the ranch books. Mary Louise, as usual, retired to the room she shared with her sister to write letters to old school friends and to daydream or plot an escape from the ranch. Jessie and Gran worked in the kitchen, preparing and packing supplies for her journey.

  “You know this has to be done, Gran, don’t you?”

  “It’s sad to admit, child, but it’s true.” A wrinkled and gnarled hand caressed Jessie’s cheek with softness and love. “You have your pa’s strength and your ma’s gentleness, Jessie. You’re a special girl. You’ve been a blessing to my son and this family. The Good Lord knew what He was doing when he gave you to Jed as a helpmate. Without you at his side, he might have given up during hard times. I know this secluded life is hard on a young woman, but times are changing. When Thomas and I came here with Jed and Alice, there was nothing but the land. Jed and Alice worked dawn to dark building this spread. Me and Pa helped as best we could. It’s one of the finest in Texas, in the whole west. This home was built with love and care. Every board and stone was handled by a Lane. Every mile of this ranch has Lane tracks on it. To think of that evil man taking them away makes my heart burn with hatred and anger, and the Good Lord knows how I resist such feelings. Find us help, Jessie, but don’t lose yourself in this bitter war.”

  “What do you mean, Gran?” Jessie asked.

  “Fighting evil has a way of making a person grow hard and cold and ruthless. To battle a man like Wilbur Fletcher means you have to crawl into his dark pit to grasp him and wrestle with him. That takes a toll, Jessie. You get dirty. It changes you. Whatever happens, you can’t allow it to change you in the wrong direction. Always remember who and what you are: a Lane.”