Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

T he next day, the sun hung low in the western sky, casting the woods they traveled through in shadows. Jude had said they were nearing the ranch.

The steeper terrain kept Jess clinging to his coat to hold on, fighting the exhaustion that pressed constantly. The gentle rocking of the horse had lulled her into a doze several times in the night and this morning, her head resting on Jude’s back. But she never let herself fully surrender to sleep. She couldn’t risk tumbling from the saddle.

Their trail opened into a clearing, where she spied a sturdy barn directly ahead and a house up the hill. Jude loosed a piercing whistle, and moments later, the front door swung open.

A woman stood on the stoop, studying them for a moment. It didn’t take her long to recognize the men, for she hurried down the steps, and four other women followed close behind. A young girl skipped along with the group.

As they approached the horses, it was easy to see the moment each of them made out the disfiguring bruises and swelling on Gil’s face. All approached Gil and Miles first, except one dark-haired woman who went straight to Jude.

His wife, no doubt. Angela.

Jude bent down from the saddle to press a quick kiss to her lips. Jess looked away to give them privacy, but not before she caught the utter joy on Angela’s face to see her husband again. How long had the men been gone?

Jude straightened and motioned to Jess. "This is Jess McPharland. She rescued Gil and brought him back to us. Jess, this is my wife, Angela." He pointed to the other women gathered around Gil. "And this is Dinah, Naomi, Patsy, and my niece Lillian. The little one in Naomi’s arms is Mary Ellen, and that young lady next to her is Anna."

Angela sent a welcoming smile. “Don’t worry about remembering names. There are a lot of us. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jess.” She reached up a hand, and Jess placed hers in it. Was that what she’d wanted her to do?

Angela’s smile warmed, and she squeezed Jess’s fingers. “I’m so glad you’ve come. Let’s get you inside. You must be hungry and exhausted.”

Angela helped Jess dismount, then guided her toward the house with a gentle hand on her back. Her touch felt almost motherly. Hadn’t Gil said Angela was expecting too? She slid a glance to the woman’s middle. Her dress was full enough that it was impossible to discern a sign of her condition.

Should Jess have expanded her dresses to conceal her growing waist? She’d not thought to. She could now, though, if one of these women would allow her the use of needle and thread.

A pang pressed in her chest. She didn’t even have her own sewing supplies. She needed to start earning money soon so she could buy the things she’d left behind.

That worry could wait until morning, at least.

Lillian trailed them while the other women assisted Gil. He’d said his oldest brother's wife, Dinah, was a doctor. That must be her, the woman with the lightest blond hair, judging by the way she took charge of Gil's care.

As they entered the log cabin, the warmth and bustle of the others enveloped her. The women moved about with purpose, their chatter filling the air—a far cry from the solitude she was accustomed to, but there was a comfort in their presence, a sense of belonging that Jess had never experienced before, not even before her mother died.

She stayed in the main room while the women settled Gil in one of the bed chambers, the one Patsy had been occupying, apparently. The red-haired woman gathered her belongings and slipped out with them, then climbed a ladder attached to the wall up to a loft.

None of the men entered the house except Gil, and through one of the windows, she could see Jude and Two Stones lead their horses into the barn. Was Miles already inside the building with his mount?

“Let’s get food for you both.” Angela’s voice sounded behind her, and Jess turned to see her and the young woman, Lillian, working together near the cookstove.

As she watched them work, she gripped her hands together. She was usually the one doing the work. But she didn’t want to force her help on them—or her presence in their kitchen.

Angela glanced up, her dark eyes meeting Jess's with warmth. "Why don't you have a seat at the table? You must be exhausted."

Jess slowly lowered herself onto one of the wooden chairs around the long oval table. The ache in her muscles eased as she settled. Lillian set a steaming mug of tea in front of her, the delicate floral scent wafting up to her nose.

"Thank you." She wrapped her hands around the warm cup, letting its heat ease her tension.

Angela brought over a bowl of steaming soup. "I’m sure you’re famished after your journey."

“Thank you.” Two such small words, but what else could she say?

Angela settled in the chair next to her. “Jude says you rescued Gil?”

Heat flushed her cheeks, and she shook her head. “More like he rescued me. He helped me get away from my father.” She searched for another way to explain without having to tell the entire story. Gil would likely share everything, but that felt like such a long conversation, and she couldn’t find the energy to start it yet.

Angela rested a hand on the table. “It sounds like you’ve had a hard go of it. I’m sorry.”

Jess took a bite of stew as she searched for an answer. Something other than thank you . Or a false reassurance like It wasn’t so hard .

Angela spoke again though, saving her the trouble. “I haven’t ever had to escape my father, but I remember when I first met Jude. We were traveling west on a train, then we moved to a steamship. At one point, we realized we were being followed by men I’d worked with. It turned into quite an ordeal, and at one point, I wasn’t sure Jude or I would make it out alive.” Her gaze had turned distant, but now she refocused on Jess, shifting her hand to rest on Jess’s arm. Her warm tone nudged aside some of the distance between them, making Angela feel more like a friend. “I’m glad you had Gil. He’s a good man. I’m sure the two of you were a great help to each other.”

Jess could only nod and take another bite. She needed this food more than she’d realized.

The front door opened, and a man stepped inside. She’d not seen him before, but he looked a little like an older version of Jude.

Jude followed him inside, trailed by Miles, Two Stones, and another man. A third stranger brought up the rear, closing the door behind him. His auburn curls looked as different from most of the others as Two Stones’s rich black braids did.

The first man—probably Jericho, the eldest, if she had to guess—aimed straight for the open door to the room where Gil lay. But Jude scanned the room until his eyes caught on Angela’s. He moved toward her like a magnet, stopping behind her chair with his hands on her shoulders as he bent to press a kiss to her cheek.

Once again, Jess tried to look away quickly enough to give them privacy, but she couldn’t help but see the way Jude’s hand dropped to his wife’s middle for a second, before pulling back.

Jess focused on her food and gulped down another bite.

“How are you both and our sweet babies? These ladies know how to make a stew, don’t they, Jess?” His eyes twinkled as he spoke. He didn’t seem embarrassed about mentioning their unborn babe in front of her, as though the child already wiggled on the floor between them. As though he was happy about their coming gift.

Blasted tears burned her eyes again, and she willed them away so neither of these nice people saw her emotion. If only she’d done things differently. If only she’d not wanted control so desperately that she’d pushed Alex so far.

She might one day have a husband who looked at her the way Jude looked at Angela. A husband who wanted children with her, offspring of their love.

If only she could go hide away with Gil. Sit by his bed without all these strangers around. She was safe with him. And she didn’t have to wish things were different.

With Gil, she didn’t have to try to be what he wanted. She only had to be. He accepted her exactly the way she was.

Nay, he did far more than accept her. He looked at her almost the way Jude looked at Angela. Not exactly the same. Gil possessed a bit more charm and flair than this brother. Something she loved about him. A trait that had drawn her from the very beginning.

Jude and Angela were looking at her now, as though waiting for her to speak. Had they asked her a question? She searched the recent conversation in her mind. Jude had asked how she liked the stew, then…

He dipped his head closer to his wife’s ear, drawing attention from trying to remember what she was supposed to answer. When he spoke, his words were quieter, meant for Angela, but he sent a smile to Jess.

“Miss McPharland is expecting a little one too. Like us. I told her you’d love to talk to her. Maybe she’s experienced that heartburn you’ve been struggling with.”

Angela’s eyes widened, yet not in horror. Pleasure bloomed over her face, and she took Jess’s hand in both of hers. “Oh, Jess. How wonderful.”

Jess worked for a smile. Angela had surely realized that Jude called her Miss , not Mrs . Most women would shun her, from what she’d gathered from the doctor and a few books she’d read.

But Angela didn’t stop with squeezing her hand, she moved her arms to Jess’s shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. “Jess, I’m so, so very glad you’ve come. I know we just met, but I feel like we’ve been friends for years. There’s something about you that makes you seem like a sister.”

Jess stayed still for a moment, not daring to move lest she do something wrong. She hadn’t been hugged by a woman since…since Mama. And that had been twelve years before.

As Angela squeezed, Jess returned the embrace, which felt like the right thing to do. She settled her hands on Angela’s back and let herself breathe in the hug. Angela smelled like stew and roses, a combination so real, her body gradually came to life.

Maybe for the first time since they crept away from the only home she’d ever known in the middle of the night.

Tears welled, burning so fiercely she couldn’t hold them back. As they leaked down her cheeks and into Angela’s hair, a sob forced its way up her throat. She couldn’t cry on this woman. This stranger.

Yet she couldn’t stop herself. With Angela’s soft arms around her, her body chose to break through the numbness that had been holding her together the last two days.

Oh, God. This hurts so much .

She wasn’t even sure where all the pain came from. Leaving her home, her father. Seeing the awful things Jedidiah’s men did to Gil. Knowing she was part of the reason that had happened. Knowing her father was the man behind it all. Knowing her father was such an awful man, yet still wanting him to love her, to call her his daughter and look at her with those eyes that said she’d done well. That he was pleased with her.

And Mama. If only Mama were still alive, these past twelve years wouldn’t have been so hard. Yet would they really have been better? She would have been able to share the weight of her father’s actions—and the weight of what he wanted for her—instead of bearing it alone. She could have shared the weight of his expectations, which she’d felt compelled to fulfill, no matter what.

But could she really wish her mother had been there to endure all that? How could she be so selfish? Such a selfish daughter.

The more her mind spun, the more sobs heaved out of her, tears long since blurring her eyes so she could see only outlines of the cabin around them.

She had to pull herself together. She could apologize for this outburst and somehow move on from it.

Maybe Jude and Angela were the only ones who’d seen her collapse. Perhaps they wouldn’t tell the others.

When she finally reined in the emotion and pulled back from Angela, the poor woman’s hair and shoulder were completely soaked. Jess sniffed and wiped one eye, then Angela pressed a cloth in her hands. “Here.”

Jess used it to wipe the other eye and her nose, then sucked in a long breath as she took in Angela and Jude.

A hand pressed her shoulder from behind, and she spun to see who was there.

Gil sat in the chair beside her.

Her heart leapt, and a fresh wave of emotion clogged her throat. Gil.

That one good eye twinkled at her, its warmth the home she’d been craving. Part of her wanted to curl into his chest and let him hold her. She couldn’t do that of course. Not with him injured and here in front of his family.

Speaking of his family, if Gil had come in here, where were the others? The women and the men who’d come in with Jude?

A glance around showed that the door to the room where Gil had been lying was closed. Were they all in there? Surely not. They must have gone outside. To get away from her crying?

Heat flushed her ears once more, but Gil’s warm hand slipped under hers, weaving their fingers together. Calling her back to him.

“Anything I can do?” His voice was low, almost intimate.

He hadn’t asked what was wrong. Gil seemed to always know what she needed. He probably understood why she’d been crying more than she did. And he’d left his bed—injured as he was—and come out here to be with her.

He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, a gesture that already felt so familiar, and she shook her head. "I’m all right. Truly. I think it just all caught up to me.”

“I know what you mean.” He nodded past her. “I see you’ve met Angela. She’s one of the good ones. Not quite as bossy as Dinah.”

Angela pressed her lips in a smile. “Don’t listen to him. Dinah’s wonderful. Like a mother hen to us all.”

A grin tugged at Jess’s cheeks, despite everything. She needed to try to explain what she was feeling to Angela. “I’ve never really been around women. My mother died when I was eight, and then it was just my father and me. The only people around us were men who worked for us. My only friends were the miners, though I didn’t know them well.”

She ducked her chin a little. “I’ve never really been around women. Not like this. In a group. I’ve…wanted this, but…”

Angela chuckled. “We’re a little overwhelming, I know exactly what you mean.” She glanced back at her husband, who’d taken the chair behind her sometime during Jess’s crying fit. “Before Dinah and Naomi came, it was just the six brothers and Lillian and Sean. Poor Lilly had to put up with all those boys.”

Angela’s smile lit her eyes as she gripped her husband’s hand. “We’ve been adding to the ranch, one by one. Mostly wives so far, but soon we’ll be adding more little ones.” Her other hand clasped Jess’s fingers. “We’re so very happy you came, Jess. I hope you’ll stay a long, long time.”

A new round of emotion rose in Jess’s throat, but she forced a smile to clear it away. She had to change the subject before she started crying again.

She turned to Gil. “Did you eat? This stew is wonderful.”

His mouth curved. “I did and it is. Almost as good as yours.” Then he squeezed her hand. “Come on. I told Jericho we’d give the whole story soon, and I don’t think I can hold him off much longer.”

She rose from her chair along with the others and braced herself for the coming conversation. The Coulters would be angry at her father. Some of them might even see her as the enemy. But Gil would be at her side through it all.

And maybe Angela and Jude too.

As the family gathered and pulled chairs into a large circle in front of the hearth, Gil led her to a bench with a back and armrests that was wide enough for two. He settled in beside her, still not releasing her hand.

Angela took the chair on Jess’s other side, with Jude next to her. Murmurs filled the room while others settled into the remaining seats.

As she took in the group surrounding them, something inside her eased.

A family. All these people were Gil’s family, and so far, they seemed kind and willing to accept her. Even when she’d shown such weakness.

Gil’s thumb stroked her hand again, and she turned to him. That good eye soaked her in, it’s warmth undeniable.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He spoke quietly, his words only for her.

She swallowed down a fresh lump in her throat. “I am too.”

And she truly was.