“What was your question?” Chase hedged.
Jessie slammed the can of beans down on the counter. “Are you deliberately trying to provoke me, Summers?”
“Is everything so serious with you? Don’t you ever get any fun out of life?” When she started to walk away, Chase caught her arm, gently this time. “Will you just hold on a minute?”
She didn’t look at him, but at his hand, and he released her. “Well?” she demanded.
“I just don’t know how to answer you. I know you don’t want me here, but Rachel has asked for my help, and I can’t very well refuse her.”
“Why not?” Jessie asked.
He replied in a tight voice, “She’s got no one else to help her. You certainly aren’t cooperating.”
“Was I supposed to?” Jessie snapped. “I didn’t ask her to come here!”
“No, you didn’t. But your father did.”
Her turquoise eyes were stormy, but she kept her voice low as she said, “You want to know why? I heard you and her talking about it that night, and I can give you a better reason than she did. He hated her so much that he wanted more revenge even after he was dead! He wanted her to see what he’d made of me. He wanted her to see this fine house and be sorry it’s not hers.”
“But she’s rich, Jessie, or didn’t you know that?” Chase said quietly. “Why, her home in Chicago is four times the size of this house.”
“But he didn’t know that. All he wanted was for us to be thrown together so the sparks would fly. He knew they would. He knew I hated her. He made sure I would.”
“Why do you hate her so, Jessie?”
“Damn you, Summers!” she hissed, her lips thinning. “Don’t start prying. And I didn’t give you leave to call me Jessie!”
“All right, I’m sorry.”
“And another thing,” she continued. “I also heard what she asked you to do when you were discussing me—which you had no business doing. The fact is, I am well aware of the kind of man Laton Bowdre is. I don’t just think he’ll try something crooked, I know he will. I’m already prepared for it. So you’ll only be wasting your time concerning yourself.” Then she added, just for meanness, “But you waste your time a lot, don’t you?”
The gibe hit home. Chase’s eyes turned quite black. “I wonder why. Could it be because a certain girl we both know hasn’t grown up yet?”
“You’re looking for another sock on the nose, mister!” Jessie retorted hotly.
“Look,” he replied, “I’m only pointing out that spiteful lying and going off to sulk do not make a mature young woman.”
“And a fool’s errand makes for a fool!”
Having reached a stalemate, they just stood glaring at each other. Jessie told herself to walk away, but something compelled her to stay. Matching wits with him was stimulating, exciting. She wondered what he would do next.
As usual, he surprised her. He admitted softly, “You are right, of course. I was off on a fool’s errand and was quite the fool for it.”
“Well, you were wrong,” Jessie said. “I didn’t go off to sulk.”
“Then why stay away a whole week?”
“That’s how long it takes to get where I was going and back.”
Chase sighed. “And where did you go?”
Jessie frowned. “Why are you asking me? Jeb already told you where I went.”
“No,” he said. “He fabricated some nonsense about Indians, but I know for a fact you’ve never been to the Wind River Reservation.”
Jessie smiled. “That’s where you went?”
“Of course,” he replied tersely. “But the question is, where were you?”
Jessie shook her head. “You really should find out about a territory before you enter it, Mr. Summers. I take it you’ve never been this far north before, or you’d know that the tame Shoshone are not the only Indians we have in our area. There are the Cheyenne and the—”
Chase interrupted. “I’ve been west of the Missouri long enough to know that the Cheyenne were defeated long ago, and what’s left of them are confined to a reservation about five hundred miles south of here.”
Jessie’s hands went to her hips. “So you think you know everything, do you? Okay. Black Kettle’s Cheyenne, the ones you’re talking about, were confined to a reservation, yes. They had no choice after the cavalry attacked their peaceful village and massacred most of them. That Army butchery was what enraged the northern tribes and allied them more closely with the Sioux. They are not all confined, Mr. Summers. The Northern Cheyenne still roam the plains and protect what little land they have left.”
“And you expect me to believe you went to visit them?” he asked, truly incredulous.
“I don’t give two hoots what you believe,” she said levelly. Then she turned away and went to her room, leaving him standing there.
Chase heard the door to her room close. He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. She wouldn’t be back to finish the argument. Argument? Hell, he had not meant to fight with her again. He had meant to be reasonable. Apologetic. Charming, even. He had sincerely wanted to end the animosity. Damn! What had gone wrong?
Chapter 7
JESSIE didn’t usually sleep late, but she woke to find her room quite bright. Several hours of the morning were gone. Why? Usually, if she wasn’t up by seven o’clock, Kate would come in to wake her. Maybe Kate had assumed she was up and gone.
As Jessie dressed, she wondered what Kate thought about all the uproar in their lives. But then, Kate probably wouldn’t have told her even if she’d asked. For as long as Jessie could remember, the Indian woman had been there, like so much else on the ranch. But she had never gotten close to Kate. The older woman never encouraged overtures. Often, especially lately, she was downright sullen. Had Kate ever been her father’s mistress? Jessie knew she’d never learn the answer to that. She often felt sorry for Kate, wasting her life there, having no family. But any time she had ever asked Kate why she stayed, Kate had replied that Thomas needed her. And even after he died and Jessie offered to settle Kate anywhere she liked, Kate declined. There was nowhere she wanted to go. The ranch was all Kate had anymore.
Jessie let it go then, grateful that the Indian woman was there to see to the house, for Jessie certainly didn’t have the time. And the house was kept immaculate, Jessie’s bed always made when she returned at the end of the day, her clothes washed and hung in her wardrobe, hot meals waiting.
As soon as she was dressed, Jessie hurried to the stable, furious with herself for being late. She barely noticed Rachel’s voice coming from the porch, but stopped when she heard Chase Summers’s raised voice. For once, he was angry with someone other than Jessie.
“Rachel, I wouldn’t marry that spoiled brat of yours if you paid me! Where in hell did you get such a fool idea?”
Jessie froze.
“From you,” Rachel replied calmly. “You said I ought to find her a husband if I wanted her off my hands.”
“But I was angry, not serious. She’s just a child. She needs a father, not a husband.”
“She had a father. A lot of good it did her,” Rachel retorted bitterly. “And you know perfectly well she’s old enough to marry.”
“Age has nothing to do with it. She still acts like a kid. Forget it, Rachel. Find someone else to dump her on if you must, but I want nothing to do with that brat.”
“Won’t you at least think about it?” Rachel’s voice turned soft and appealing. “You’ve been wandering for years, Chase. This is nice country to settle down in, and the ranch is established, a fine spread.”