Page 66 of The Promise of Jenny Jones
For the first time in his life, Ty glimpsed why a man might choose the aggravation of a family.
Jenny struggled to sit up, blinking at the morning sunlight. Across from her, Graciela still slept, her head in Ty’s lap, but Ty was awake, watching her.
“Mornin’,” she said, pulling her shawl down over her bloodied blouse. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Some. How are you feeling?”
“I’d have to say I’ve felt better. This damn train is shaking me to pieces. Can I have some water, please?” Their fingers brushed when he handed her the canteen, and she glanced at him, frowned, then poured water on a strip of Graciela’s nightshift and washed her face and hands.
The desert outside the window was a sun-baked sand and alkali plain, but here and there she spotted a few bony, mean-looking cattle. She wondered what they found to eat out there.
After running her tongue around her teeth she drank deeply from the canteen, then replaced the cap. “We’re almost clear of the wastelands. We’ll start seeing farms and ranches soon.” Leaning, she scanned the western horizon, spotted towering cacti and low brown hills curving against the morning sky. She’d made the El Paso–Chihuahua freight run enough times to recognize the terrain.
“We need to hole up for a few days,” Ty announced quietly, watching her comb her fingers through her hair. “Give you a chance to mend and get your strength back.”
Slipping a hand beneath her shawl, she gingerly explored with her fingertips, tracing the bandage that Ty and Graciela had wrapped around her waist. She couldn’t decide if the pain was less or about the same as yesterday. Pain was a hard thing to remember, hard to define by degrees.
“The cousins are going to find the bodies we left behind,” she pointed out, resting against the hard seat back. “Luis is still out there. He’s going to come after us.”
“Chihuahua is big enough that we could stay there a month, and they’d never find us.”
That was true. Nearly two hundred years old, the city of Chihuahua rose like an oasis among roses and orange groves. Gone were the mining shacks and narrow lanes of the Colonial era. Now the city boasted broad, clean streets and an aqueduct three miles long. A profitable trade system flourished between Chihuahua and Texas, which had contributed to Chihuahua’s growth and importance. By comparison, Durango was a mere whistle-stop.
“The cousins are going to dog us all the way to the Rio Grande, aren’t they?” Jenny murmured, closing her eyes.
“The way I figure, the worst is behind us. When you can travel comfortably we’ll take the train to El Paso, then change to the Southern Pacific. The Southern Pacific will take us all the way to San Francisco. We’ll buy a wagon and team in San Francisco and two days later we’ll be drinking coffee in my mother’s kitchen.” He paused. “You don’t have to go all the way, Jenny. You can say good-bye in El Paso.”
She made a snorting sound, then gasped and placed a hand against her waist. “You know better than that. I’m sticking until the end. I’m not saying good-bye until I hand the kid over to your sainted brother. Besides, there’s nothing for me in El Paso anymore.”
“Good,” he said softly, his eyes clear and intense in the early light.
Good? That was a change. Turning her face to the window, Jenny pretended to peer outside, but slid her gaze back to the cowboy. Just looking at him turned her insides to liquid. He sat wide-legged, one hand on Graciela’s back, the other hooked on his belt. Dark stubble shadowed his jaw. Far from being unappealing, the new whiskers hardened his features and made him look dangerous. Her lower stomach tightened, and she remembered his mouth hot on hers. Lordy. How could she be hankering when she was hungry, weak, and wounded?
Being kissed—really kissed—must have knocked loose some kind of craziness in her brain. All day yesterday and first thing today, the only thing she could think about when she looked at him were those wild erotic kisses in the moonlight. All of her life she’d laughed at romantic notions of moonlight and endearments and something as stupid and awkward as a kiss. But that was before. Now it was after.
She licked her lips and saw his jaw tighten as he watched. “All right, I can’t stand it. Why did you say ‘good’ when I said I’m staying until the end?”
His hard gaze devoured her, moving slowly over her face and throat. “Because I’m not ready to let you go,” he said in a husky voice. “You and I have unfinished business.”
A light shiver of dread and anticipation trailed down her spine, and she bit her lower lip, staring at him, trying to catch her breath.
Suddenly, she knew it would happen. Her and Ty. It wouldn’t matter that in her heart she knew sex was nothing more than three minutes of dry pain and disappointment. It wouldn’t matter that she was scared to death of catching a baby. She met his gaze and felt her heart lurch, and sensed an emptiness she’d never known before. Filling that emptiness was tied to him, and it would drive them both loco until they gave in to it. And they would, because the hankering quivered and flashed between them like lightning sizzling along invisible wires. Unless they answered the hankering, the lightning would burn them both to crisps.
“I’m hungry,” Graciela said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes with both fists.
Jenny held Ty’s narrowed gaze for another minute, then turned to Graciela with relief.
From the window of their hotel room, they could see the twin spires of the Church of San Francisco rising above the rooftops of Chihuahua. The street below was broad and lined with fragrant orange trees. In addition to the usual wagon traffic and burro carts, a smart black carriage spun over the cobblestones.
Jenny let the curtain drop and turned back to the room, casting longing eyes toward the two beds. All she wanted to do was curl into a ball and sleep.
“When will Uncle Ty come back?” Graciela sat on one of the beds and bounced up and down, testing the resiliency of the mattress.
“He returned to the depot to fetch our horses. Since we’ve decided we won’t need them again, he’ll arrange with a stable to sell them.” The water in the painted pitcher on top of the dresser was cool, and she filled a tumbler. She couldn’t seem to drink enough water. “Get off the bed. I need to lie down.”
“I’ll help you take off your boots.”
Jenny blinked in surprise. “Well, that would be right nice.” Sitting on the mattress with a sigh, she extended her feet and Graciela tugged off her boots. Jenny wiggled her toes and sighed. “Feels good.”
