Only Mine (29 page)

“Jessi!”

She smiled tentatively, but found her mouth too dry to speak. Caleb looked frankly intimidating.

“Good grief,” he said, still hardly able to believe his eyes. “Riding Deuce and wearing that fur jacket, I thought you were Willow. Does Wolfe know you’re out in this Hell-wind?”

The appearance of a multitude of slate-gray wraiths just at the edge of visibility saved Jessica from having to answer. Before she could take a breath, she was supported only by Caleb’s left arm and there was a six-gun in his right hand. Shots came too quickly too count, their staccato thunder battering through the savage keening of the wind. Almost a hundred feet away, a wolf went down and stayed. The rest vanished as silently as they had appeared.

Jessica stared eat Caleb, astonished at his speed and accuracy. Veiled by snow, the wolves had appeared with no warning and had left in the same way. Yet if the words Caleb was saying were any indication, he wasn’t much impressed by either his quickness or his skill.

“
Damnation.
How could I miss so many? Must be thirty of those sons of bitches prowling around.”

Caleb didn’t bother putting Jessica down. He simply tossed her onto Deuce, reloaded his gun swiftly, and went to the struggling foal. When he came close, the steeldust’s ears went back.

“Take it easy, you cross-eyed cayuse. I’m going to help your baby, not eat him.”

The mare’s nostrils flared. Jessica had been infused with the foal’s scent. Enough of it had rubbed off on Caleb to confuse the mare. Stamping her feet, lashing her tail, nickering nervously, she watched while Caleb picked up her foal and draped it over Jessica’s lap.

“Take him to a stall. The steeldust won’t like it, but she’ll follow.”

“At least three other mares are missing from the herd,” Jessica said.

With a hissed word under his breath, Caleb pulled on his gloves. “Never rains but it pours.
Only a contrary female would have babies in this weather.”

“Leave it to a contrary male to complain about the fruits of last summer’s frolic,” Jessica retorted.

Caleb gave a crack of laughter as he smacked Deuce on his muscular black haunch. “Get going, boy. Sassy little bits like your rider and that foal don’t take long to freeze solid in this wind.”

“I’m not little,” Jessica said as the big gelding headed out.

“You know, Willow’s been saying the same thing to me since I met her. Didn’t believe it then. Don’t believe it now. Watch Deuce. He doesn’t like wind worth a damn.”

“I noticed. I’ll be back for the other foals.”

“No. It’s too dangerous with the wind and the wolves. You stay home. Reno isn’t far behind me. We’ll look for the missing mares.”

“But what about the cattle? You need them more than you need the foals, and most of the horses are Wolfe’s anyway.”

Caleb didn’t answer. Instead, he swung up onto his big horse with a quick motion and trotted off into the savage, waist-high swirls of snow. Beyond him, the herd of horses huddled miserably, their rumps to the icy wind.

With the steeldust in anxious attendance, Jessica rode quickly to the barn. The mustang didn’t want to go inside, but she did, shying every inch of the way. Jessica put mother and foal in an empty stall, dragged in a bucket of water and an armload of hay, and hauled herself up on Caleb’s tall horse once again.

Deuce didn’t want to leave the barn’s shelter. After a sharp contest of wills with its rider, the big gelding laid back his ears and went out into the
teeth of the Hell-wind once more.

The sound of a six-gun being fired told Jessica where to find Caleb. By the time she got there, the wolves were gone. Tall, wide-shouldered, standing with his back to her, Caleb straddled a newborn foal while he rapidly reloaded his six-gun and watched the sheets of wind-driven snow for the movement of hungry wolves. When he saw none, he holstered the gun with a smooth motion and bent to pick up the foal. The mare was much more tame than Wolfe’s steeldust. Other than nosing the foal insistently, she made no move to interfere.

As though understanding that the man’s attention wasn’t on them any more, wolves rushed in from three sides.

Before Jessica could scream Caleb’s name, he straightened, drew his gun, and fired all in the same motion, emptying the revolver in a few shattering seconds. The speed of his movements shocked Jessica, even though she had seen it once before.

The wolves scattered, leaving two dark shadows behind. Instantly, he began to reload. Then he heard something behind him and spun, gun raised in his left hand. Pale green eyes glittered like gems in the man’s wind-burned face.

In that instant Jessica remembered what Wolfe had said about Reno and Caleb being well-matched when it came to speed and six-guns.

“Willy, what the hell are you doing out here, and riding Deuce of all horses! Does Caleb know what damn foolishness you’re up to?”

As Jessica urged her horse forward, the hood of her jacket was stripped back by the wind. Long mahogany locks whipped and leaped like flames in the late afternoon light.

“Jessi! For God’s sake, does Wolfe—”

“Just give me the blasted foal before it freezes to the ground,” Jessica interrupted curtly, tired of being told by tall, dangerous men that she belonged at home by the fire. “You need every hand you can get.”

Impatiently, she stuffed her hair back under the hood and pulled the drawstring tight. No sooner was she finished than Reno dropped a curly-coated, ice-tipped black foal across her lap. A big rangy bay mare followed, all but stepping on Reno’s heels.

“Was it you with the shotgun earlier?” Reno asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you reload?”

“Wolfe taught me to hunt,” she retorted. “What do you think?”

Reno’s smile flashed. “I think you reloaded. I’ve got your carbine. Want to trade?”

“Unlike Wolfe, I can’t shoot straight one-handed while riding a horse and hanging upside-down with my eyes closed,” Jessica said dryly. “I’ll be better off with the shotgun. All I have to do is point it in the right general direction and pull the trigger.”

“You do that, Red. All the blood smell from the births and that wild wind have every wolf pack between here and the divide in a frenzy. Must be forty or fifty wolves prowling around. Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen. Shoot one and three more take its place.” He smacked Jessica’s horse on the rump. “Take her home, Deuce.”

Deuce moved eagerly toward the barn once more, followed by a mare that was nearly as big as he was. The foal struggled briefly, then gave up
and lay quietly while the wind keened icily around.

As soon as Deuce left the meager shelter of the pines, swirls of snow leaped up from the ground, stinging unprotected skin. The gelding tugged at the bit and humped his back as though intending to buck again.

“Don’t even think of it,” Jessica muttered, curbing the big horse.

Suddenly there were wolves everywhere.

With a cry of fear, Jessica dropped the reins, lifted the shotgun, and fired at a leaping black shape. Simultaneously, Deuce lashed out with his hind feet and the big bay mare charged at the closest wolf, forcing it to retreat. The mare spun back to the gelding. Instinctively, the horses protected their vulnerable hamstrings by turning their rumps to one another and facing the circling wolves. Jessica didn’t urge Deuce to run for the barn; she, too, knew that the horse would be hamstrung and brought down long before it reached the barn’s safety.

While Deuce pivoted and struck out at wolves that were foolhardy enough to rush forward, Jessica fought to stay upright, keep the foal across the saddle, and reload the shotgun at the same time. Yet even when she succeeded in shoving in another shell, she knew it wouldn’t get the job done.

There were too many wolves.

An eerie calm came over Jessica as she raised the shotgun to fire, for she knew it would be a race to see if she got the gun reloaded again before the wolves regrouped and closed in. If she lost that race, her only hope was that one of the men had heard the shotgun’s distinctive bellow and would find her in time.

She triggered the gun. Wolves scattered as buckshot
fanned out like wind-driven hail. Some of the wolves leaped aside, snapping and snarling, as though besieged by bees. Fighting to hold the foal and herself in the saddle, Jessica managed to get another shell into the gun before the wolves regained their courage.

When she brought up the shotgun again, the foal began to slip off. Desperately, she held the foal in place while trying to level the shotgun at the wolf that was leading the attack—a big, slate-gray male that had been clever enough to recognize her shotgun as dangerous and leap aside as soon as she had pointed the barrel toward him.

The big male raced forward before Jessica could bring the shotgun to bear again. Abruptly, he somersaulted and fell. He didn’t get up. Even as the sound of rifle fire screamed down through the wind to Jessica, another animal spun away from the pack and lay still.

Back at the edge of the trees, Wolfe took aim and shot again, picking off the animal that was closest to the horses. Despite the fear hammering at him, he shot smoothly, evenly, and accurately, using a hail of bullets to separate the carnivores from their intended prey.

Too damn many wolves,
he thought savagely.
What in Christ’s name was Caleb thinking about, letting Willow come out when there was a Hell-wind blowing?

Suddenly, there were no more targets. The wolves had withdrawn again, vanishing like puffs of smoke on the violent wind.

Reloading quickly, Wolfe rode out into the meadow. He saw Deuce head for the barn at a fast canter, with his rider crouched low in the saddle, hanging onto a foal. One of Caleb’s big Montana mares followed anxiously.

Even as Wolfe admired Willow’s courage in taking on the Hell-wind and wolves, he wished things weren’t so desperate that they needed every hand. But they were that desperate, and they did need every hand, even the soft one of a woman who should have been rocking a cradle rather than riding shotgun over a helpless foal.

T
HE
wind finally died at sunset, bringing relief to men and animals alike. Mares with foals were in the barn, cows with newborn calves had been herded into the corral, and the men traded off riding around the rest of the livestock. The temperature rose with each circuit Wolfe made around the cattle.

Another wind began to blow, a gentle wind from the south. By moonrise, the snow had begun to melt beneath the warm breath of the chinook. Wolfe stood in the stirrups and looked out over the glistening land. He stretched and sighed deeply, weary to his core.

“Go back to the house,” Caleb called from the shadows. “The cattle can take it from here. Any creature that dies of being born in a warm wind is too weak to be worth saving. Besides, as tired as we are, we’d probably shoot ourselves instead of the wolves.”

“They’re gone. They won’t gather like that again until another Hell-wind blows.”

The certainty in Wolfe’s voice made coolness condense along Caleb’s spine. He cocked his head and looked at the man he thought of as a brother but didn’t always understand.

“How long will it be before another Hell-wind blows?” Caleb asked, curious.

“My mother’s mother saw one as a child. Your
grandchildren might see one, if they live long enough.”

“Hope they have friends like you to help them.”

“And wives like Willow,” Wolfe said softly.

Caleb didn’t hear. He had already reined his horse away and was trotting toward the horse herd that Reno and Rafe were guarding. Wolfe turned toward the house where lights were glowing in welcoming shades of gold.

Knowing how tired Willow must be, the last thing Wolfe expected when he walked into the house was to find it full of the savory scents of cooking. A pan of warm water was on the stove, along with a dry towel and soap. Smiling, he took the hint and began stripping off hat and gloves, heavy jacket and cold boots, vest and shirt and undershirt. He washed as much of himself as he could reach, enjoying the feel of the warm water and the dry towel.

The sound of a woman’s skirt rustling behind Wolfe told him that he wasn’t alone any longer. I Even as he turned around, his blood heated at the thought of catching Jessica and holding her close to his body again. She always smelled so good, so clean. Holding her was like lying in a rose garden in the full bloom of summer.

But it was the scent of lavender rather than roses that met Wolfe. Willow smiled and held out a clean shirt to him.

“If your clothes are anything like Caleb’s have been, they could stand up and shoot for themselves.”

Wolfe put on the shirt, appreciating the clean softness and warmth of the flannel. He looked at the stew simmering gently on the stove and the
mound of biscuits, and shook his head in silent wonder.

“They broke the mold with you, Willow. A new baby to take care of, yet you’re washing clothes for four men and feeding them as well, day and night. And in between you rescue foals and shoot wolves.”

Willow gave Wolfe an odd glance. “I’m with you as far as the new baby and the biscuits, but you lost me after that. Jessi did the rest, including the cooking. If any foals got rescued, it was her doing, not mine. All I did was lend her my clothes and a shotgun.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jessi. She was the one out in the storm, not me.”

Wolfe’s eyes widened. His hands gripped Willow’s shoulders hard enough to make her wince.

“I saw you out there, riding Deuce,” he said flatly. “I saw a wolf leap for you and you fired the shotgun and reloaded it while Deuce was dancing around and you were holding the foal across your lap and I didn’t know if I could shoot that goddamned wolf before he took you and the foal right down into the snow!”

“Jessi,” Willow said succinctly. “Jessi and Jessi and Jessi.”

Wolfe released Willow and began walking quickly toward the bedroom he and Jessica shared.

“If you’re looking for your fancy aristocratic lady,” Willow said dryly, “try the barn.”

Wolfe spun around. “What?”

“Jessi was worried that wolves might get into the barn. She knows how much store you set by that savage steeldust mustang. That’s why Jessi rode out into the storm when I saw the mare was
missing. That’s why Jessi’s in the barn now with a shotgun. She’s guarding the future the same way I would have in her shoes.”