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Crying and shivering from the shock of what she had just gone through, and feeling so alone in the world now, Jessie wasn’t sure what to do, or where to go.
And her fingers! They were hurting so much! She could hardly bear to hold the horse’s reins, but she had no other choice.
She had been ordered from the Sioux village by a man she had thought could never be cruel. But he had been, and to her!
He seemed a different man today, someone far removed from the man who had saved her from the runaway stagecoach.
She had no idea where to go but back to the abandoned shack. Perhaps she could make a home out of it. She could clean it up. She could gather dry wood for the stove.
But even if she did make the place livable, where would she get food? She had no weapon to kill anything.
And she had no money, even if she was brave enough to ride into town, where almost everyone knew her now as Reginald’s cousin. The scalawag had probably already sent word to everyone in Tombstone to keep an eye out for her. No doubt anyone who saw her would promptly return her to his home.
She wiped the tears from her eyes with her glove, then made her way toward the shack. But when she saw the shine of a stream up ahead, she impetuously went in that direction instead. She needed to soak her hands in the cool water again. That seemed to be the only thing that gave her some respite from the pain, if only for a moment or two.
She would soak her hands, and then go on to the shack and start cleaning away the cobwebs. She dreaded the thought of removing the dead rat. By nightfall she might at least have the cobwebs and dirt removed and a fire going in the stove.
She could only hope and pray that Reginald would not happen along and find her. Even if he did, though, she wouldn’t return with him, and she doubted that he would force her at gunpoint. He surely would not go that far.
When she reached the stream, she dismounted and sank down to her knees beside the water. She slowly removed the gloves and cringed when she saw how red and swollen her fingers were. She shuddered at the thought that her hands might have actually been broken by what Reginald had done.
She sank her hands into the water, sighing at the relief she felt.
But she couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. Her body shook as she sobbed.
She closed her eyes and sat there crying as she slowly swished her hands back and forth in the cool stream.
Thunder Horse had searched until he saw Jessie in the distance. As he approached, he was able to make out that she was kneeling beside a stream, her hands held in the water.
He realized tha
t she had not gone toward Reginald’s ranch, but in the opposite direction. That could prove that Lone Wing was right.
His jaw tight, he dismounted and tethered his horse to a tree. He continued on foot, his footsteps so quiet she didn’t hear him.
When he had almost reached her, he stood a few feet away and watched as she drew her hands from the water. He was stunned to see how red and swollen they were. Carefully she slid them back into her gloves, and he realized that was why he hadn’t noticed their condition earlier.
Jessie rose and turned, gasping with surprise when she found Thunder Horse standing only a few feet away from her.
“I was wrong to send you away,” he said thickly. “Your hands. How were they injured?”
She hesitated, then told him about how Reginald had forbidden her to play the piano, how she had done it anyway, then how he had injured her hands in his fury.
Touched by her story, and now certain that she was in need of his help, he stepped closer and gazed apologetically into her eyes.
“Come home with me,” he said huskily. “I have a shaman who knows all the skills of healing. And . . . Jessie . . . you can stay with my people as long as you need . . . to feel safe.”
Overjoyed by his change of heart, and his gentleness, Jessie could not help herself. She ran to him and flung herself into his strong arms.
“Thank you, thank you,” she sobbed. “Oh, Thunder Horse, thank you so much.”
He felt the sweetness of her embrace and smelled the wildflower freshness of her hair as his nose was pressed into it. He was stunned to find her in his arms.
Realizing the boldness of what she had done, Jessie stepped away from him.
Their eyes met and held.
“Reginald is my cousin,” she blurted out, then told Thunder Horse how she had come to live with him, but left out several of the reasons why.
