Free Brave the Wild Wind by Johanna Lindsey

Jessie leading the way out of the valley. The trail was still in shadow. As soon as the sun was up, they rode side by side, but they didn’t talk. It was not a leisurely ride. Jessie needed to reach town by early afternoon, and she kept them at a steady pace, even breaking into a gallop on the plains.
    Five hours later, they stopped at the little creek she always rested by when she went to Cheyenne. It was a nice spot, tree-shaded, level all the way to the water, beautiful with red and gold autumn leaves. It was safe, too, because the land all around them was flat. A stranger’s approach could be seen right away.
    They saw to their horses first, then sat down under the trees to share a loaf of bread, sliced beef, and cheese. Jessie washed up when she’d finished eating and leaned back against hersaddle to rest for a while. Chase, still eating, sat near her.
    Jessie put her arms behind her head, forcing the brim of her black felt hat over her eyes. She raised one knee and lazily moved it from side to side so he’d know she wasn’t sleeping. The position thrust her breasts forward and drew attention to the flatness of her belly, as she’d intended. His eyes were on her, and she kept the hat over her face, allowing him full freedom to look.
    Jessie’s voice was startlingly loud when she asked, “How long have you known Rachel, Mr. Summers?”
    He sighed. “If you’re going to start to get to know me, don’t you think it’s time you called me Chase?”
    “I suppose so.”
    She didn’t see him grin. “I’ve known your mother for about ten years.”
    Jessie stiffened. Ten years ago Rachel had left Thomas Blair. Jessie had been eight. She didn’t realize that Chase could only have been about fifteen or sixteen ten years ago. So she immediately assumed that Chase had been Rachel’s lover just after Rachel left Thomas.
    “And do you still love her?” Jessie asked tightly.
    There was a pause.
    “What exactly do you mean by that?”
    Jessie changed her tone, trying to make light of it, as if she didn’t care one way or another. “You’re one of her men, aren’t you?”
    Chase took a deep breath. “Hold on, kid. Is that what you’ve been thinking?”
    Jessie sat up then and faced him squarely. “You came running when she called, didn’t you?”
    He laughed at her hard, accusing look. “You’ve got a dirty mind, Jessie. Or is it that you just think the worst of your mother all the time?”
    “You haven’t answered my question,” she said stubbornly.
    He shrugged. “I suppose I do love her, as much as I can love any woman.”
    That stopped Jessie. It took her a while to decide what she ought to say next. “Sounds like you don’t like women very much.”
    “Now you’ve got me all wrong. I like all women. It’s just that settling for one in particular isn’t necessary.”
    “You like to spread yourself around?” she said nastily.
    “You could say that.” He grinned. “But only because I’ve never found a woman I could bear staying around for any length of time. Once they think they have you hooked, the romance is over and the pettiness begins, the nagging, the jealousy. That’s the time to move on.”
    “Are you trying to tell me all women are like that?” Jessie asked quietly.
    “Of course not. There are all kinds back East, but you have to understand that certain, well, types come west: those already married, their daughters looking to get married, and women who pretend they’re not interested until they’re asked.”
    “This latter group of women includes saloon and dancehall girls, I take it?”
    “They are the most fun,” he said, knowing he was in dangerous territory.
    “Whores, in other words?”
    “Now I wouldn’t call them that,” he said indignantly.
    “Is that how you met Rachel?” she sneered.
    He frowned, annoyed. “Obviously no one’s told you, so I might as well. Rachel was alone, starving, and obviously pregnant when my stepfather Jonathan Ewing brought her