Although Wolfe’s expression had been rather grim when he came in from outdoors, the sight of his wife spooning chili into a big serving bowl made him pause. The slow, very male smile he gave her as he peeled off his leather work gloves told Jessica that he was remembering what had happened between them in the hushed silence of dawn three days ago — and every night since.
As Wolfe took the big bowl from Jessica, he slid the palms of his hands over the back of her fingers. Because there were other people nearby, he didn’t bend to take her soft mouth in a kiss. But he wanted to, and the catch in her breathing when his palms touched her skin told Wolfe that Jessica wanted the kiss as much as he did.
«How’s the little man doing?» Wolfe asked Willow, turning away from the temptation of Jessica’s mouth.
Willow looked up from the shallow basin where she was carefully bathing the baby, who seemed to be enjoying the warm water and his mother’s touch.
«Ethan Caleb Black is doing wonderfully well,» Willow said, smiling.
«Ethan, huh? You finally decided.»
«It was Caleb’s father’s name.»
«Big shoes for the little one to fill,» Wolfe said. He looked appraisingly at Willow. «Are you sure you should be up and working so soon?»
«Lying in bed is for people who are sick. I’m not.»
Frowning, Jessica looked up from the pan of cornbread that was staying warm near the stove.
«In England, the women stay in confinement for several weeks after giving birth,» Jessica pointed out.
«Figures,» Wolfe said. His voice was rich with disgust for the aristocrats of Great Britain. «The whole lot of them is as useless as teats on a boar hog.»
All Willow said was, «The longer you stay in bed, the weaker you are when you get up.»
«You look tired,» Jessica persisted.
«I’ve been a lot more tired. Ask Caleb.» She picked up Ethan and wrapped his bottom in a soft cotton diaper as she continued talking. «Ethan and I had a nice long nap this morning, didn’t we, button? And after lunch, we’re going to have another one.»
Wolfe shook his head, but it was in admiration rather than disagreement. «And here I thought that Cheyenne women were tough. Caleb must have been standing under a whole sky full of lucky stars the day he found you.»
Jessica bent over the pan of cornbread, rearranging the clean cotton towel so that no warmth could escape. The fussing wasn’t necessary, but it gave her an excuse to hide her face until she was certain that none of the hurt she felt at Wolfe’s comments would show in her expression. Even knowing that he hadn’t meant his words as a backhanded slap didn’t remove the sting of them.
She had begun to hope that he was accepting their marriage. Since the night when Wolfe had discovered the source of her fear of men, marriage, and childbirth, he had been the affectionate companion of old. He had also been a restrained, generous teacher of the ancient arts of sensuality.
But now Jessica realized Wolfe hadn’t accepted her as his wife. Nor was he likely to do so. His contempt for the aristocracy was as deep in him as his blood.
Jessica had been born into that aristocracy. Wolfe never forgot that, not even when in the grip of a passion for her that made him shake. It was why, after three nights of the most intense sensual explorations, Jessica was still a virgin. She was born of the aristocracy, which made her the kind of woman with whom Wolfe might play sensuous games, but not the kind of woman he thought was fit to be his true mate.
The wind flexed against the house, testing its strength and reminding the men inside of what awaited them after they had eaten. A faint scratching sound came from the windows, particles of ice or grit flung against the glass by the strengthening wind. As one, the men stopped eating and exchanged wary looks.
Without a word, Wolfe stood and went to the back door. Ignoring the ice-tipped wind, he walked away from the house until he had a clear view of the sky around the mountain peaks. The air had an odd sheen to it. The wind was alive, potent, and smelled of winter.
Although it was barely noon, the elemental harmonies of wolf packs on the prowl shivered through the forest.
Motionless, silent, Wolfe stood and absorbed all the subtle messages of sky and earth, wind, and wildlife. When he turned and came back inside, his face was impassive and his eyes were bleak.
Caleb watched Wolfe sit down. «Well?» he asked softly.
Wolfe hesitated, then shrugged. The truth would come on the wind no matter what was said or not said now.
«It’s making up to snow.»
Caleb muttered something Jessica chose not to overhear. Quietly she set down another pan of warm cornbread and a bowl of chili.
«How hard?» Caleb asked.
«It’s going to be a real Hell-bringer.» Wolfe’s voice was very soft, but very certain.
«Then nobody rides but me. It’s too easy to get lost in a blizzard.»
«I’ll start bringing in the cows and calves,» Rafe said, ingoring Caleb. «My bullwhip makes the horses too skittish, but it works like a charm on those cattle.»
«I’ll ride shotgun for you,» Reno said. «Thank God not too many calves have been born yet. They’ll be a lot safer in their mother’s bellies. Have the mares started foaling yet?»
«No,» Wolfe said. «Mysteeldust will probably be the first. Once she foals, the rest won’t be far behind. When they start dropping their foals in a blizzard…»
Caleb narrowed his eyes but said nothing. There was nothing he could say that would turn back the cold northern wind.
«Once we get a rope on my mustang,» Wolfe continued, «Ishmael will make sure the rest of the herd follows.»
«Hell,» Caleb said in disgust. «The last time I tried roping thatsteeldust of yours, she ran rings around me.»
«Quick little thing, isn’t she? Smart, too.» Wolfe’s smile faded. «If I can’t talk to her —»
«Talk?» interrupted Jessica.
Caleb smiled oddly. «In Cheyenne. It’s the damnedest thing I ever saw. Wolfe can go up to a mustang and ‘talk’ to it and half the time it will follow him like a big dog.»
«That’s what the Cheyenne call them, Big Dogs,» Wolfe said dryly. His voice changed. «If thesteeldust won’t listen to reason, and we can’t get close enough to rope her, I’ll have to try creasing her with a bullet.»
Jessica looked unhappily at Wolfe. She knew thesteeldust was the core of the horse herd he hoped to build.
«I’ll do what I have to,» Wolfe said.
BY thethe third day of the blizzard, the men were exhausted from lack of sleep and long hours spent riding under the most miserable conditions imaginable. Jessica made gallons of stew, rafts of cornbread, and lakes of coffee. She kept all of it hot in the kitchen no matter what the hour, for she never knew when one of the men would walk in the back door shivering with cold and hungry as a spring bear.
«Go back to bed,» Jessica said to Willow.
«You’ve been up cooking since dawn. It’s late afternoon now. You must be exhausted.»
«I’m fine. I’m stronger than I look. I always have been.»
Willow looked at Jessica’s drawn face and understood what was bothering her.
«The men will be all right, Jessi. They’re used to riding wild country.»
A tight nod was Jessica’s only answer. She didn’t know how much Caleb had told his wife about the problems they were having with so many wolves prowling in the storm, with the contrary cattle, and with cows calving at the worst possible time. Not to mention the wind itself, edged with thousands of icy teeth that ripped into flesh and stole the very warmth of life from livestock and man alike.
But Jessica knew all of those problems, for Wolfe had told her more than he knew with his terse answers and eloquent silences.
«If only the bloody wind would stop,» Jessica said suddenly.
«Yes. If only. At least it’s not snowing any more,» Willow said, walking to the window. She picked up the spyglass she had put there. In the magnified circle of its view, she looked across the pasture, counting horses under her breath. It was impossible to be certain through thewaisthigh curtains of snow, but she thought the count came up short.
«What is it?» Jessica asked, coming to stand by Willow.
«At least four of the mares are missing.»
«Ishmael will bring them back.»
«Not if they’re foaling,» Willow whispered. «No stallion will disturb a mare when she quits the herd to give birth.» There was a tense silence before Willow added, «I saw at least one wolf. The packs are moving again.»
For an instant, Jessica closed her eyes. She had seen Willow’s Arabians when they were brought to the home pasture. Even heavy with their unborn foals and thick with winter coats, the mares had an elegance of form and movement that enchanted Jessica. The thought of those mares lying down in the cruel wind to give birth while wolves circled hungrily around made her feel ill. The mares would be all but helpless, captive of the need to give birth. For a time, they would be almost as vulnerable as the foals being pushed from warm wombs onto frozen ground.
«The foals…» Jessica whispered.
Willow looked through the spyglass, saying nothing.
«Can you see any of the men?» Jessica asked.
«No. They’re probably combing the forest for cows. When the wind started coming from the northeast before dawn, the herd drifted out of Eagle Creek Basin.»
With growing tension Jessica waited while Willow searched as much as she could see of the pasture through the swirling snow. When she collapsed the spyglass with barely restrained violence, Jessica knew that the mares were still missing.
«I don’t see thesteeldust anywhere,» Willow said finally. «I think the foaling has begun.»
«Dear God, no,» Jessica whispered. «We can’t lose thesteeldust now. Wolfe was so relieved when she came to him as though she understood he would keep her safe.»
Willow set aside the spyglass. «I nursed Ethan a few minutes ago. If he cries before I come back, just —»
«No.»
The curt refusal startled Willow.
«Stay with your baby,» Jessica said tightly. «I’ll check on the mares.»
«I can’t let you do that. The cold is too dangerous.»
«That’s why you’re staying with Ethan. If anything happens to you, the baby will die. If anything happens to me…» Jessica paused and then spoke the bitter truth with no bitterness in her voice. «No one else will die of it.»
Willow clasped her hands together until the knuckles gleamed whitely. «Jessi, you mustn’t go out. You don’t know what this mountain wind is like, how quickly it can take the living warmth from you.»
«I know about cold and wind. I’ve seen sheep freeze standing up in the fields and wells frozen from top to bottom like stone.»
Willow’s eyes widened into startled hazel pools. «I didn’t know England was so cold.»
«It isn’t. Scotland is. Do you have winter clothing that would fit me?»
«Jessi —»
«Do you or not?»
«In the bedroom. I’ll show you.» Willow smiled oddly. «Some of the clothes will be familiar. Caleb got them from Wolfe. They were yours. There’s a shotgun over the front door. Take it. I’ll bring you extra shells.»
Very quickly, Jessica was on the way out of the house, wrapped in layers of wool and buckskin that were familiar, and a hooded fur jacket that was not. She wore pants instead of a skirt and carried a borrowed shotgun. The pockets of her jacket were heavy with extra shells.
The only horse in the corral that didn’t look half dead on its feet from work was a tall black gelding. He didn’t want to be bridled, saddled, or ridden. Jessica managed the first two, but was very nearly thrown before the horse gave up and left the corral with ears laid back. As she rode out into the storm, she was grateful that Wolfe had insisted that she learn to ride difficult horses and do the work ofstablehands.
Before Jessica reached the pasture, she saw the first of the wolves. They were sniffing the wind eagerly and moving as though they had a destination in mind. Acting on instinct, she followed. She lost the trail partway into the sparse forest. The wind was less brutal in the trees, but not by much.
Just as Jessica was going to give up and go back to the pasture, she heard the unmistakable sound of a horse screaming in anger and fear. She spun the black gelding around and headed toward the sounds at a dead run, dodging branches and clinging to the saddle horn when the horse lunged through low spots where snow lay in powdery drifts.
At first, Jessica saw only wolves. Then she saw thesteeldust mare trying to struggle to her feet in order to face the circling predators. Jessica brought the shotgun up and fired into the wolves. They scattered away, only to circle back to the mare almost instantly. Jessica fired again and again, reloading rapidly despite the clumsiness of her gloves.
After the third shot, the wolves withdrew, vanishing into swirls of wind-blown snow. Jessica dismounted and went to thesteeldust. The mustang flinched and laid back her ears but was too caught up in the ultimate moments of giving birth to resist the gentle hands helping her.
As soon as the foal was born, Jessica sat down and pulled it into her lap so that the icy ground wouldn’t sap the newborn’s strength. Very quickly, the mustang was back on her feet and nosing curiously at the slick, wet bundle that overflowed Jessica’s lap. A surprisingly long, agile pink tongue appeared and began a vigorous cleaning of the foal. When Jessica’s hand or leg got in the way, it was cleaned too.
Suddenly, the mare’s head went up and her nostrils flared. She shied away, but came back instantly, for the foal was a lure she couldn’t refuse. She nickered urgently to her foal. In response, the foal tried to stand.
With a few strategic pushes from Jessica, the foal managed to come to its feet, but very quickly went sprawling, its stilt-like legs sticking out every which way. As Jessica reached for it, a harsh male voice cut through the storm.
«What the hell do you think you’re doing out here! Southern lady, sometimes you don’t have the sense God gave a goose!»
Before Jessica could say a single word she was snatched off the ground by large hands. Instants later she found herself staring eye to eye with a perfectly furious Caleb Black. There was no sign of the sensual lover, gentle father, or loving husband in him at the moment. He was a dark angel of justice with blazing gold eyes.
«Jessi!»
She smiled tentatively, but found her mouth too dry to speak. Caleb looked frankly intimidating.
«Good grief,» he said, still hardly able to believe his eyes. «Riding Deuce and wearing that fur jacket, I thought you were Willow. Does Wolfe know you’re out in this Hell-wind?»
The appearance of a multitude of slate-gray wraiths just at the edge of visibility saved Jessica from having to answer. Before she could take a breath, she was supported only by Caleb’s left arm and there was a six-gun in his right hand. Shots came too quickly too count, their staccato thunder battering through the savage keening of the wind. Almost a hundred feet away, a wolf went down and stayed. The rest vanished as silently as they had appeared.
Jessica stared eat Caleb, astonished at his speed and accuracy. Veiled by snow, the wolves had appeared with no warning and had left in the same way. Yet if the words Caleb was saying were any indication, he wasn’t much impressed by either his quickness or his skill.
«Damnation.Howcould I miss so many? Must be thirty of those sons of bitches prowling around.»
Caleb didn’t bother putting Jessica down. He simply tossed her onto Deuce, reloaded his gun swiftly, and went to the struggling foal. When he came close, thesteeldust’s ears went back.
«Take it easy, you cross-eyedcayuse. I’m going to help your baby, not eat him.»
The mare’s nostrils flared. Jessica had been infused with the foal’s scent. Enough of it had rubbed off on Caleb to confuse the mare. Stamping her feet, lashing her tail, nickering nervously, she watched while Caleb picked up her foal and draped it over Jessica’s lap.
«Take him to a stall. Thesteeldust won’t like it, but she’ll follow.»
«At least three other mares are missing from the herd,» Jessica said.
With a hissed word under his breath, Caleb pulled on his gloves. «Never rains but it pours. Only a contrary female would have babies in this weather.»
«Leave it to a contrary male to complain about the fruits of last summer’s frolic,» Jessica retorted.
Caleb gave a crack of laughter as he smacked Deuce on his muscular black haunch. «Get going, boy. Sassy little bits like your rider and that foal don’t take long to freeze solid in this wind.»
«I’m not little,» Jessica said as the big gelding headed out.
«You know, Willow’s been saying the same thing to me since I met her. Didn’t believe it then. Don’t believe it now. Watch Deuce. He doesn’t like wind worth a damn.»
«I noticed. I’ll be back for the other foals.»
«No. It’s too dangerous with the wind and the wolves. You stay home. Reno isn’t far behind me. We’ll look for the missing mares.»
«But what about the cattle? You need them more than you need the foals, and most of the horses are Wolfe’s anyway.»
Caleb didn’t answer. Instead, he swung up onto his big horse with a quick motion and trotted off into the savage, waist-high swirls of snow. Beyond him, the herd of horses huddled miserably, their rumps to the icy wind.
With thesteeldust in anxious attendance, Jessica rode quickly to the barn. The mustang didn’t want to go inside, but she did, shying every inch of the way. Jessica put mother and foal in an empty stall, dragged in a bucket of water and an armload of hay, and hauled herself up on Caleb’s tall horse once again.
Deuce didn’t want to leave the barn’s shelter. After a sharp contest of wills with its rider, the big gelding laid back his ears and went out into the teeth of the Hell-wind once more.
The sound of a six-gun being fired told Jessica where to find Caleb. By the time she got there, the wolves were gone. Tall, wide-shouldered, standing with his back to her, Caleb straddled a newborn foal while he rapidly reloaded his six-gun and watched the sheets of wind-driven snow for the movement of hungry wolves. When he saw none, he holstered the gun with a smooth motion and bent to pick up the foal. The mare was much more tame than Wolfe’ssteeldust. Other than nosing the foal insistently, she made no move to interfere.
As though understanding that the man’s attention wasn’t on them any more, wolves rushed in from three sides.
Before Jessica could scream Caleb’s name, he straightened, drew his gun, and fired all in the same motion, emptying the revolver in a few shattering seconds. The speed of his movements shocked Jessica, even though she had seen it once before.
The wolves scattered, leaving two dark shadows behind. Instantly, he began to reload. Then he heard something behind him and spun, gun raised in his left hand. Pale green eyes glittered like gems in the man’s wind-burned face.
In that instant Jessica remembered what Wolfe had said about Reno and Caleb being well-matched when it came to speed and six-guns.
«Willy, what the hell are you doing out here, and riding Deuce of all horses! Does Caleb know what damn foolishness you’re up to?»
As Jessica urged her horse forward, the hood of her jacket was stripped back by the wind. Long mahogany locks whipped and leaped like flames in the late afternoon light.
«Jessi! For God’s sake, does Wolfe —»
«Just give me the blasted foal before it freezes to the ground,» Jessica interrupted curtly, tired of being told by tall, dangerous men that she belonged at home by the fire. «You need every hand you can get.»
Impatiently, she stuffed her hair back under the hood and pulled the drawstring tight. No sooner was she finished than Reno dropped a curly-coated, ice-tipped black foal across her lap. A big rangy bay mare followed, all but stepping on Reno’s heels.
«Was it you with the shotgun earlier?» Reno asked.
«Yes.»
«Did you reload?»
«Wolfe taught me to hunt,» she retorted. «What do you think?»
Reno’s smile flashed. «I think you reloaded. I’ve got your carbine. Want to trade?»
«Unlike Wolfe, I can’t shoot straight one-handed while riding a horse and hanging upside-down with my eyes closed,» Jessica said dryly. «I’ll be better off with the shotgun. All I have to do is point it in the right general direction and pull the trigger.»
«You do that, Red. All the blood smell from the births and that wild wind have every wolf pack between here and the divide in a frenzy. Must be forty or fifty wolves prowling around. Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen. Shoot one and three more take its place.» He smacked Jessica’s horse on the rump. «Take her home, Deuce.»
Deuce moved eagerly toward the barn once more, followed by a mare that was nearly as big as he was. The foal struggled briefly, then gave up and lay quietly while the wind keened icily around.
As soon as Deuce left the meager shelter of the pines, swirls of snow leaped up from the ground, stinging unprotected skin. The gelding tugged at the bit and humped his back as though intending to buck again.
«Don’t even think of it,» Jessica muttered, curbing the big horse.
Suddenly there were wolves everywhere.
With a cry of fear, Jessica dropped the reins, lifted the shotgun, and fired at a leaping black shape. Simultaneously, Deuce lashed out with his hind feet and the big bay mare charged at the closest wolf, forcing it to retreat. The mare spun back to the gelding. Instinctively, the horses protected their vulnerable hamstrings by turning their rumps to one another and facing the circling wolves. Jessica didn’t urge Deuce to run for the barn; she, too, knew that the horse would be hamstrung and brought down long before it reached the barn’s safety.
While Deuce pivoted and struck out at wolves that were foolhardy enough to rush forward, Jessica fought to stay upright, keep the foal across the saddle, and reload the shotgun at the same time. Yet even when she succeeded in shoving in another shell, she knew it wouldn’t get the job done.
There were too many wolves.
An eerie calm came over Jessica as she raised the shotgun to fire, for she knew it would be a race to see if she got the gun reloaded again before the wolves regrouped and closed in. If she lost that race, her only hope was that one of the men had heard the shotgun’s distinctive bellow and would find her in time.
She triggered the gun. Wolves scattered as buckshot fanned out like wind-driven hail. Some of the wolves leaped aside, snapping and snarling, as though besieged by bees. Fighting to hold the foal and herself in the saddle, Jessica managed to get another shell into the gun before the wolves regained their courage.
When she brought up the shotgun again, the foal began to slip off. Desperately, she held the foal in place while trying to level the shotgun at the wolf that was leading the attack — a big, slate-gray male that had been clever enough to recognize her shotgun as dangerous and leap aside as soon as she had pointed the barrel toward him.
The big male raced forward before Jessica could bring the shotgun to bear again. Abruptly, he somersaulted and fell. He didn’t get up. Even as the sound of rifle fire screamed down through the wind to Jessica, another animal spun away from the pack and lay still.
Back at the edge of the trees, Wolfe took aim and shot again, picking off the animal that was closest to the horses. Despite the fear hammering at him, he shot smoothly, evenly, and accurately, using a hail of bullets to separate the carnivores from their intended prey.
Too damn manywolves, hethoughtsavagely.Whatin Christ’s name was Caleb thinking about, letting Willow come out when there was a Hell-wind blowing?
Suddenly, there were no more targets. The wolves had withdrawn again, vanishing like puffs of smoke on the violent wind.
Reloading quickly, Wolfe rode out into the meadow. He saw Deuce head for the barn at a fast canter, with his rider crouched low in the saddle, hanging onto a foal. One of Caleb’s big Montana mares followed anxiously.
Even as Wolfe admired Willow’s courage in taking on the Hell-wind and wolves, he wished things weren’t so desperate that they needed every hand. But they were that desperate, and they did need every hand, even the soft one of a woman who should have been rocking a cradle rather than riding shotgun over a helpless foal.
THE wind finally died at sunset, bringing relief to men and animals alike. Mares with foals were in the barn, cows with newborn calves had been herded into the corral, and the men traded off riding around the rest of the livestock. The temperature rose with each circuit Wolfe made around the cattle.
Another wind began to blow, a gentle wind from the south. By moonrise, the snow had begun to melt beneath the warm breath of thechinook. Wolfe stood in the stirrups and looked out over the glistening land. He stretched and sighed deeply, weary to his core.
«Go back to the house,» Caleb called from the shadows. «The cattle can take it from here. Any creature that dies of being born in a warm wind is too weak to be worth saving. Besides, as tired as we are, we’d probably shoot ourselves instead of the wolves.»
«They’re gone. They won’t gather like that again until another Hell-wind blows.»
The certainty in Wolfe’s voice made coolness condense along Caleb’s spine. He cocked his head and looked at the man he thought of as a brother but didn’t always understand.
«How long will it be before another Hell-wind blows?» Caleb asked, curious.
«My mother’s mother saw one as a child. Your grandchildren might see one, if they live long enough.»
«Hope they have friends like you to help them.»
«And wives like Willow,» Wolfe said softly.
Caleb didn’t hear. He had already reined his horse away and was trotting toward the horse herd that Reno andRafe were guarding. Wolfe turned toward the house where lights were glowing in welcoming shades of gold.
Knowing how tired Willow must be, the last thing Wolfe expected when he walked into the house was to find it full of the savory scents of cooking. A pan of warm water was on the stove, along with a dry towel and soap. Smiling, he took the hint and began stripping off hat and gloves, heavy jacket and cold boots, vest and shirt and undershirt. He washed as much of himself as he could reach, enjoying the feel of the warm water and the dry towel.
The sound of a woman’s skirt rustling behind Wolfe told him that he wasn’t alone any longer. I Even as he turned around, his blood heated at the thought of catching Jessica and holding her close to his body again. She always smelled so good, so clean. Holding her was like lying in a rose garden in the full bloom of summer.
But it was the scent of lavender rather than roses that met Wolfe. Willow smiled and held out a clean shirt to him.
«If your clothes are anything like Caleb’s have been, they could stand up and shoot for themselves.»
Wolfe put on the shirt, appreciating the clean softness and warmth of the flannel. He looked at the stew simmering gently on the stove and the mound of biscuits, and shook his head in silent wonder.
«They broke the mold with you, Willow. A new baby to take care of, yet you’re washing clothes for four men and feeding them as well, day and night. And in between you rescue foals and shoot wolves.»
Willow gave Wolfe an odd glance. «I’m with you as far as the new baby and the biscuits, but you lost me after that.Jessi did the rest, including the cooking. If any foals got rescued, it was her doing, not mine. All I did was lend her my clothes and a shotgun.»
«What are you talking about?»
«Jessi. She was the one out in the storm, not me.»
Wolfe’s eyes widened. His hands gripped Willow’s shoulders hard enough to make her wince.
«I saw you out there, riding Deuce,» he said flatly. «I saw a wolf leap for you and you fired the shotgun and reloaded it while Deuce was dancing around and you were holding the foal across your lap and I didn’t know if I could shoot that goddamned wolf before he took you and the foal right down into the snow!»
«Jessi,» Willow said succinctly. «JessiandJessi andJessi.»
Wolfe released Willow and began walking quickly toward the bedroom he and Jessica shared.
«If you’re looking for your fancy aristocratic lady,» Willow said dryly, «try the barn.»
Wolfe spun around. «What?»
«Jessiwas worried that wolves might get into the barn. She knows how much store you set by that savagesteeldust mustang. That’s whyJessi rode out into the storm when I saw the mare was missing. That’s whyJessi’s in the barn now with a shotgun. She’s guarding the future the same way I would have in her shoes.»
Wolfe stared at Willow, unable to believe what he was hearing.
«I wanted to go,» Willow continued. «Jessiwouldn’t let me. She said if something happened to me, Ethan would die. But if something happened to her, nobody would die.»
«The little fool.»
«Is she? She may have been born and raised an aristocrat, but she’s not the useless little decoration you believe she is.»
Willow was talking to herself. The door slammed behind Wolfe as he headed for the barn.