White Wolf (12 page)

With the ease of two people who’d established a working partnership, Jessie and Rook set about their duties. Rook started the fire and cooked slabs of salt pork while she grabbed the ingredients needed to make bread—two days’ worth. Kneeling, she placed the bread board on a wooden box and mixed the ingredients. Turning half of the sticky dough onto the board, she sprinkled it with flour, and soon her hands moved in a rhythmic rolling motion as she kneaded the flour into a soft ball with the heels of her hands. When she was finished, she began the process again. Halfway through, she heard laughter and glanced to her right.

Eirica and Anne were standing among a group of five other women, talking and visiting. Resentment warred with frustration as she watched the women walk over to Anne’s wagon. For the first time since leaving Westport, they were camped in close proximity to other travelers, and she wanted to meet new people, people who might end up being her neighbors in Oregon.

Glancing around, she noted that most of the train had set aside their normal routine of chores so they could visit and exchange trail news and gossip during the light of day. Having traveled less than ten miles that day, they had several hours before the sun set. But she and Rook had mutually decided to get their meal preparations done early and have the evening to relax.

The tangy smell of tobacco smoke drifted down to her. Jessie smiled. When Rook lit his pipe, it meant he was in a good mood. He joined her. “Goin’ to be some merrymaking tonight,
laddie,
if’n I’m not mistaken,” he announced.

His emphasis on the word
laddie
warned her that they weren’t alone. When it was just the two of them, he reverted back to “lass.” From the corner of her eye, she saw a shadowy figure near the wagons and knew without doubt it was her taskmaster. Turning her back on him, she answered Rook.

“That should be fun.” She bent over the dull brown blob, kneading with more vigor than needed, very aware of the man who watched her every move with nerve-shattering intensity. Jessie was grateful when Wolf engaged Rook in conversation, leaving her to her bread making. Shaping the dough, she gave herself up to her silent contemplations, troubling though they were. Her whole being seemed to be on edge—waiting, but for what?

The sudden appearance of a pair of jean-clad legs brought her head up with a snap. Her startled glance locked on to the rough blue material pulled taut across muscular thighs. It was the first time she’d seen Wolf up close in anything other than buckskin. She swallowed, not sure which she preferred him in. Shocked by the direction of her thoughts, she ruthlessly thrust all thought of him from her mind, but his nearness unsettled her, and his continued silence made her hands tremble, causing her to spill precious flour.

Why did his presence affect her so? Whenever he came near, a curious anticipation gripped her. It was as though she came alive, both mind and body alert, waiting. But for what, she was afraid to explore. Tipping her head back to glare at him, she couldn’t help but appreciate how the faint afternoon light softened his prominent cheekbones and lent a golden glow to his sun-bleached hair. It made him seem so much more human. Locking gazes with him, she found herself wishing she could lose herself in the wild sapphire blue of his eyes.

What was she thinking? Thrusting out her jaw, she mentally ticked off all the mean things he’d done to her, reminded herself that this man made it a point to push her to the point of anger at least once per day. With one last punch, she shaped the last loaf, putting one half into a Dutch oven, and the other into one of the covered frying pans that Rook affectionately called spiders.

Standing, Jessie felt more in control as she passed Wolf and set the pans beside the others. When she turned, he was still there, watching her. Now she wished he’d say something. His silence was unnerving, as was the glint in his eyes as he stared at her. But she continued to ignore him while she cleaned up her mess. She turned her attention to Rook, who was stirring a big pot of beans for the night’s supper. “I’ll check the coals in the other firepit to see if they’re hot enough to bake the corn bread I mixed up earlier—and it looks like we even have enough milk left for sweetened bread and milk for dessert.”

Without looking at Wolf, she went about her chores, but his presence unnerved her so that she continued to babble. “We’ll be finished in time to join the others. Did you know Lars plays the fiddle? Rickard told me his pa is going to play tonight. Should be a lot of fun.” Her voice took on a belligerent tone as she sent Wolf a look that dared him to ruin it for her.

As if that was precisely what he’d waited for, Wolf grinned, a knowing, pleased-as-hell grin that boded ill. “I’m afraid you won’t have much time for socializing tonight, young Jess.” Wolf folded his arms across his chest and met her glare with an impassive stare of his own.

Jessie swiped at a strand of hair that fell over her eyes, unaware of the pale streak of flour she left across her forehead. “Of course I will. There’s still lots of day left. My chores will be done in plenty of time,” she challenged. She threw her shoulders back and stuck her chin out, her emerald greens clashing with the ice blue of his gaze.

She refused to back down, even when Wolf took a step closer. They stood toe-to-toe. Jessie had to tip her head back. “Give me one good reason why not,” she ordered. “No matter how many extra chores you assign me, I’ll get them done.”

Rook groaned and motioned from behind Wolf for her to keep silent. She ignored him.

Wolf lifted an eyebrow, and a sly grin lifted the corners of his lips. “I’ve no doubt about that, but don’t fret. There won’t be any extra chores tonight, but it seems I’ve neglected to inform you that I’ve added your name to the guard-duty roster.”

Jessie’s jaw dropped. “Guard duty?”

Wolf nodded toward the oxen grazing nearby. His eyes gleamed with humor. “As you know, someone has to watch over the oxen whenever they aren’t corralled. Tonight’s the first night we’ve not formed a corral with the wagons, and with so many other wagons near, I have to assign guard duty. I can’t risk having ours wander off or be stolen. Rickard is watching them now. You’ll relieve him at dark, and Bjorn will relieve you at midnight.”

Jessie stuck her hands on her hips. He couldn’t do this to her. Not after all the plans she’d made. But before she could argue with him, he reached into his pocket, drew out a piece of leather and handed it to her.

“I believe these belong to you.” Wolf walked away, whistling.

Opening the leather square, Jessie stared at three wicked-looking thorns.

Rook coughed to keep from laughing. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what Jessie had done, but when he saw the fury in her green eyes, he stepped forward and grabbed her arm to keep her from running after Wolf. “Now, lass, don’t do it. That’s what he’s awaitin’ fer.”

Jessie rounded on him, a she-bear all het up and steaming mad. He took a step back, careful to hide his grin.

“Listen to me, Rook,” Jessie’s furious voice demanded, bringing him back to the present. He winced when her voice grew in pitch.

He took another step back for good measure when she advanced on him. He glanced sideways, keeping an eye out for objects that she might have a mind to start tossing. He’d never
seen her so angry, so out of control, and he figured he’d better calm her down right quick. “Now, lass. Ya needs to calm down. Gittin’ angry ain’t gonna help ya none.”

Jessie paced back and forth, kicking the dirt and grass in front of her until she’d worn a small, muddy path before him. “Why, Rook? Why’s he doing this? He hasn’t left me alone for one minute since we left Westport. I’ve done nothing to deserve this! I swear, he was born with a burr up his butt.”

At that, Rook lifted one bushy white brow, crossed his arms in front of him and stared at the thorns in her hand. “Mebbe yer just a thorn in his side?”

Jessie winced. Then her gaze went wide with feigned innocence. “The prairie is covered with thorns. He can’t prove I had anything to do with these.”

But Rook wasn’t fooled. He’d seen the gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. But before he could tell her so, her anger deflated. She tossed the thorns down and smashed them into the soft ground with her boots. Standing there, rubbing her cotton-covered arms, she looked young and vulnerable.

Her voice dropped to a husky whisper and quavered with emotion. “That still doesn’t explain why he hates me.” She turned away, but not before he caught a glimpse of watery green eyes. “And he does, Rook,” she whispered. Stooping, she grabbed an empty kettle and stalked toward the river.

Rook frowned and reached for his pipe. She was right. Wolf
was
being hard on her. He drew a deep breath and shook his head, utterly confused over his friend’s unusual behavior. Under most circumstances, Wolf was a fair and just man. Why was he singling the girl out for what he had to admit was unwarranted harshness over a bit of high-spirited behavior?

Tapping fresh tobacco into the bowl of his pipe, he stared out over the river. Low growls sounded from somewhere behind him, interrupting his musing. Rook whipped around, much faster than his stocky, old-man’s body should’ve allowed. His hand went to the knife sheathed at his belt, and his faded blue eyes scanned the area, looking for the trouble. When he spotted it, he relaxed and lit his pipe, drawing deeply. “Ah, I should’ve known it’d be the two of ya at it again,” he grumbled, spotting Sadie under the wagon. She growled low in her throat as the wolf approached.

He sighed. The two animals were at odds with one another, as were their masters. Sadie refused to have anything to do with the white wolf, and the wolf wasn’t taking no for an answer. A sudden thought came to mind as he watched the two animals eye one another. Each time Wahoska moved closer, Sadie growled and snapped. Rook knew it was just a matter of time before Wahoska won her over.

His bushy white brows rose with sudden insight. Was it possible that Wolf sensed there was more to Jessie than he could see? He chuckled and shook his head, a gleam of anticipation replacing the worry in his eyes. He grabbed his walking stick and poked the white wolf. “Git outta here, you mangy ol’ mutt,” he said in a growl, shooing the animal away.

Sadie came out and licked his proffered hand. Rook scratched the dog behind her ear and took a big pull of his pipe, blowing out a stream of smoke. “Well, Sadie, ol’ girl. Things look to be gittin’ mighty interestin’.”

Jessie mounted Shilo and headed out across the prairie in search of some small game. For her sixteenth birthday, when most girls received fancy dresses, gleaming jewels or golden chains, her brothers had presented her with a new scattergun. The shotgun now lay across her lap. Hunched over the mare’s neck, Jessie felt the wind cool her face as she put distance between her and the person who had hurt her deeply. Well, she’d show him.

As her eyes scanned the grass and small bushes for prairie chickens or rabbits, her mind searched for a suitable method of extracting revenge. No one treated her like he did and got away with it. Jessie rode until she calmed.

An hour later she returned to camp and tossed four prairie chickens to the ground near Rook. After taking care of her horse, she helped Rook pluck the birds. By the time dinner was ready to be served, Jessie not only had her plan of revenge, but she’d put it into action.

Hunching over a Dutch oven chock-f of fresh meat, beans and rice, she stirred the steaming mixture. Glancing around, she made sure no one was looking before dropping a small sliver of hot chili pepper into the pot, carefully concealing it near the side of the kettle where she could scoop it up quickly. Jessie grinned in anticipation when Rook rang the large gong to announce the evening meal.

The sound traveled to the hired hands camped a good half mile away. It still didn’t make sense to her that she and Rook were so far from the cattle. But according to Rook, Wolf wanted the supply wagons away from the cattle in case they stampeded. She grimaced. He just wanted
her
away from the cattle.

When the men came riding in, Rook took his place next to her. He handed out thick chunks of steaming corn bread while Jessie, her face impassive, dipped her ladle into the thick, spicy meat, beans and rice mixture and served it up onto tin plates each weary man held out to her. With each dip into the pot, she was careful not to disturb the hot pepper.

“Thanks, Jess,” Jeremy said.

Jessie glanced up, surprised. She’d been so deep in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed her brother in line. Staring up at him, she saw how tired he looked. But before she could ask him how it was going, he’d moved on and held his plate out to Rook. After serving nearly everyone, Jessie felt disappointed when there was no sign of Wolf. Had he remained with the cattle? At sound of a rider, she glanced up and saw him riding in with Shorty. Surreptitiously, she scooped up the hidden hot pepper. Ladle ready, she waited impatiently.

Rook, seated next to her on a wooden box, turned to her. “Go fetch the rest of the corn bread for me. I’m jest too tired to git up.”

Jessie’s eyes widened with horror, but she didn’t make a big fuss over his request. Carefully, she rested the full ladle on top of the mixture in the kettle, making sure the pepper was covered. Standing, she watched Rook move over and pick up the ladle full of beans and rice.

“Git yer arse over here, Wolf. Some of us would like ta eat afore the food’s cold.”

Jessie sighed with satisfaction and quickly fled the scene of her crime. Her plan of revenge was going better than she’d dared hope. With Rook serving, Wolf wouldn’t be able to point the finger of blame at her. For good measure, she took a moment to stir another pot of beans that would be sent out to the hands still on duty. Then she leaned down and picked up two pans of corn bread.

Carrying them back to the line of men, she sat down and handed Wolf a hunk of steaming bread, keeping her eyes downcast.

Wolf sniffed his plate. “Where’d the fresh meat come from, Rook? You go hunting today?”

Rook grinned and shook his head. “Young Jess here scared ’em up.”