“You’re foolish and brave, and I won’t have it, Jessie. Why did you do it?”
“I told you. I just wanted to save Sweet Susie. It never occurred to me the man would have a gun.”
“You should have come here and told me. I would have taken some men and gone after them.”
She stared at him. The headache, slight until just moments ago, was pounding through her again. “But what would I have told you, James?”
“I don’t know, but you could have taken me back to where you’d seen them.”
“Would you have allowed me to lead you back there? It was raining hard. Wouldn’t you have been scared I would have gotten ill? After all, I’m so delicate. No, I think you would have made me take myself home and you and your damned men would have ridden around blindly, finding nothing but colds. I saved Sweet Susie. Get used to it, James.”
“Jessie, girl, how are you feeling? Bess and I have brought you some breakfast. Dr. Hoolahan told me you’d be starved this morning. Just look at what Bess made for you. Grits and eggs, their yellows all bright, just the way you prefer them, strips of bacon, all crispy and—” Oliver Warfield broke off, staring at his daughter, whose eyes were tightly closed. He glanced at James, who was standing beside her bed, ramrod straight, his arms crossed over his chest, looking as intimidating as hell and madder than the copperhead snake Oliver had ousted off a sun-baked rock the past week.
“What the devil is going on here, James? You’re not yelling at my daughter, are you?”
“I haven’t yelled a single word. I was just very calmly telling Jessie that she was a bloody fool, Oliver. I still can’t believe she just galloped Benjie into the middle of those thieves and played the heroine. It was stupid and ill-advised and—”
“And I succeeded. So just shut up, James.”
“That’s my girl,” Oliver said fondly, stepping into the bedchamber so Bess could come around him with a big silver tray that held enough food for two fat men. “Give him hell, Jessie.”
“A little testy, are we?” James said, moving away so Bess could plump up Jessie’s pillows and pull her to a sitting position.
“Now, little honey, it’s time for you to eat and ignore these men. What do men know, anyhow? All they do is strut around and give orders and expect a little girl like you to wither away and do nothing. You keep talking, Jessie. You jest snap like a turtle. Mr. James, he ain’t used to no snapping, so you do it.”
“You order me around all the time, Bess,” James said. “Don’t give this one any advice. She already does everything she shouldn’t do, and more. You call her ‘little honey’? That’s enough to make a man puke.”
“I like ‘little honey.’ Be quiet, James. You’re just mad because I saved Sweet Susie and you didn’t. Your wounded vanity is becoming tedious.”
“Damn you, Jessie. That has nothing to do with my wounded vanity and you well know it.”
“Now that’s enough, Mr. James. I don’t want the child to come down with a fever.”
“No, you want her to eat so much she’ll be too fat to get through the door and then she’ll be forced to stay here and complain about everything. You see anything else that needs fixing, Jessie? There’s not much wrong with this wallpaper, dammit.”
Old Bess arranged the tray on Jessie’s lap, then beamed down at her. “Now, you just eat all I brung you, Jessie. It’ll make your head feel like a plump healthy raisin in no time a’ t’all.”
“A plump raisin with a bald spot,” James said.
“You need fixing, James. I’m sorry, Bess, but I’m not very hungry.”
“You would be if Mr. James weren’t here twitting you. Out with you, both of you.”
James said over his shoulder as he walked through the door after Oliver Warfield, “Eat, Jessie. I’d rather have you fat than a skinny little brat who presses her nose against windows.”
“What’s that you say, James?” Oliver Warfield said.
Jessie closed her eyes, her fingers crumbling a slice of bacon. She heard James say, “Actually I was referring to the ceiling of your office in the stables, not windows. I was referring to her ears, not her nose.”
“Oh,” Oliver said. “That was strange how far afield you got.”
When Mrs. Warfield, Glenda, and the carriage arrived to take Jessie home, James had planned to be gone. He had a warning system in place. Gypsom, Oslow’s assistant, was supposed to whistle twice, and James would mount Tinpin and ride like the wind. But the plan didn’t come off as it should have. James froze on the first step of the stairs as Thomas opened the door to greet Mrs. Warfield and Glenda. What the devil had happened to Gypsom and his plan?
“Mrs. Warfield,” he said, pulling himself together. “A pleasure, ma’am. Glenda. I was just bringing Jessie some tea. Where’s Oliver?”
“We are your saviors, James,” Glenda said, sweeping toward him, her delicious bosom leading the way. “We’ve come to relieve you of Jessie. Has she been complaining much? She usually does. I’m sure it’s been difficult for you.”
“No difficulties. Jessie’s feeling much better today. Would you like to accompany me or perhaps wait here in the parlor?”