The Valentine Legacy (Legacy 3)

If Jessie hadn’t realized that these men had stolen Sweet Susie from James’s farm, that they were probably very dangerous, she would have laughed at the sight of Sweet Susie and Billy’s horse nipping at each other, their eyes rolling, their manes flying as they reared at each other as the torrential rain poured down.

The other man was trying to pull the horse away from Sweet Susie, trying to keep his balance at the same time, and screaming at Billy to get off his ass and help him. He wasn’t having much luck. Billy’s horse wanted to mount Sweet Susie, and he looked set upon his course. Sweet Susie looked set upon the same course.

> This was her chance, Jessie realized. She wouldn’t get another opportunity like this. She shrieked at the top of her lungs, sending Benjie into a furious gallop, steering him right between the two horses, nearly hitting Billy, who was trying desperately to scramble on his hands and knees through the mud out of the way. She saw Billy’s horse break away from the other man, jump a ditch, and gallop into the field next to the road. She grabbed Sweet Susie’s lead and slammed her heels into Benjie’s sides.

He snorted and leaped forward. Sweet Susie, liking Benjie’s snort, snorted herself, kicked up her back legs, and ran as fast as she could to catch up to Benjie.

Jessie heard the men shouting behind her to bring back their horse, that she was a thief, and she laughed aloud.

Now all she had to do was make James’s farm, Marathon, before they caught up with her. She didn’t want to think about what would happen to her if they did catch her. She prayed the man wouldn’t leave his partner, Billy. It would take them a while to catch Billy’s horse, a good ole boy.

She was only about three miles from Marathon. If she stayed on the road, they’d probably catch her. She waited until Benjie rounded a bend. She guided him off the road into a copse of elm trees, forcing Sweet Susie behind him since it was a very narrow path until they reached Gympsom’s Pond, now overflowing its banks from the heavy rainfall. It was tricky, but they made it through. Beyond the pond was a field of hay surrounded by oak trees. Sweet Susie was hungry as well as in heat. Jessie kept telling the mare that Benjie would do whatever she wanted if only she’d keep running with him and not stop to eat. Sweet Susie twitched her tail and ran.

The gunshot startled Jessie so, she nearly fell off Benjie’s back. She twisted around and saw just the one man about fifty yards behind her. No Billy.

Before she could flatten herself, there was another shot and this one, to her utter astonishment, hit her. She felt a cold shiver along the side of her head, nothing more, just that blast of cold. If she didn’t feel anything, then it couldn’t be bad. At least the idiot had shot her and not Sweet Susie. She shouted, “Benjie—run, you devil! Run!” She couldn’t fall off. She couldn’t pass out, or everything would be lost.

She clung to Benjie’s mane and to Sweet Susie’s lead. There were no more shots. She supposed the man finally realized he might hit Sweet Susie, and surely that would ruin the plans for the mare.

Rain was running down the side of her face and into her mouth. She licked it away and realized it wasn’t rain. It was sweet and sticky and had a strange metallic taste. It was blood, her blood. She felt nauseated and dizzy. In that same moment when she accepted that she’d been shot, really shot, she felt a searing pain through her head. Oh no. She had to be fine—fine enough to make Marathon.

She saw the rich pastures of Marathon just ahead of her, the thick clusters of elm trees spread throughout the fields. She heard the man’s cries closing in. She knew then she would make it if only she could hang on. She rode Benjie right up to James’s front door, scattering at least a dozen people in front of her. She pulled Benjie to a stop at the sight of James dashing down the deep steps.

“What the devil are you doing here, Jessie?”

“Hello to you, James. I brought you Sweet Susie.”

She weaved in the saddle.

“What the devil is wrong with you?” He was next to Benjie then, looking up at her, prying Benjie’s reins from her fisted hand to give them to one of the stable lads. “ Oslow, you take Sweet Susie and make sure she’s all right. Well, brat, what’s wrong?”

Thomas brought a lighted lantern. It sent up a ghostly yellow light through the rain.

“Good Lord, what’s that on your face, missie?” Thomas said, poking the lantern into Benjie’s side. Benjie took exception, quickly sidestepped, threw back his head, and sent Jessie flying off his back.

James caught her. She leaned heavily against him. “Bring the lamp, Thomas.”

“Oh my, what’s wrong with her purty little face?”

“Why does Jessie Warfield have my Sweet Susie?” Allen Belmonde yelled, running out of the house. “I don’t care if she’s a girl; I’ll see her in jail. She’s always giving Alice ideas that don’t suit any female, and now look what she’s done. She’s a common thief. If her damned father thinks he can send his daughter to do his dirty work, then he’s—”

“Be quiet, Allen,” James said very softly, in a tone of voice he rarely used. It was hard and low and mean and quite calm. Belmonde shut up. James tucked Jessie close. She was still conscious, but just barely. He added to Allen Belmonde, “I believe she’s been shot.” He couldn’t believe he sounded so calm. God, she’d been shot! “Let’s go inside and see how bad it is. No doubt she’ll tell us how she came to have Sweet Susie.”

He picked her up in his arms. Her old hat fell off her head, and he pulled her against his chest to protect her from the rain as well as he could. He didn’t realize until he walked into the parlor that twelve people were pressing at his back.

Old Bess said, “Glory be, Mr. James, jest look at her poor face. All that blood. Poor little baby. What happened?”

Old Bess was right. He stared down at the hair over her temple, matted with rain and blood, at the streaks of blood down her cheek and on her shoulder. “Thomas, please have Dr. Hoolahan fetched immediately. Tell him Jessie’s been shot. Now, Bess, get me a blanket. She’s soaked clear through.”

James just stood there in the middle of his parlor holding Jessie Warfield in his arms. This was not the way he’d expected this particular evening to end. Of course finding Allen Belmonde here screaming about his stolen horse hadn’t been in his calculations either. Now everything had changed again. What was Jessie doing with Sweet Susie? He moved to stand in front of the fireplace.

“I can stand, James.”

“Shut up. Even though you weigh more than a female should, I can bear it for a few more minutes.”

She tried to pull away from him. “Stop it, damn you. Don’t move again. I don’t want you bleeding on my carpet.”

“Mr. James, here’s a nice blanket.”