Chapter Three

Mr. Frazer refills his cup. "So there you were, watching Harper acting up around Mrs. Carson, huh?"

"Well... yeah." I feel like I'm somehow being a bit unfair to Jess, but I have to provide enough information for Mr. Frazer to grasp everything that happened, and why it happened. I don't know what to make of his expression. Kind of a combination of keen interest and mild disturbance.

"I imagine you were trying to figure out what to do about it without making things worse," Mr. Frazer remarks. "How'd you two wind up there anyway?"

I swallow some more coffee and continue recounting that day…

Even though that way station's midway between Laramie and Medicine Bow, Jess and I had never been there before. We'd heard about somebody new taking it over, but we didn't even know their name. It's part of the Overland line, though, and it's always a good idea to get friendly with other stations. So on our way home from looking at some stock up north, it was the likely place to stop to eat. That relay station, just like ours, is used to hungry folks dropping by once in a while. Not like a café, but on the frontier an establishment that can offer some grub isn't easy to come by, you know. Relay station folks are often glad to take in a few extra coins by satisfying the appetites of a traveler or two on horseback who don't feel like trying to pull another meal together out in the Open. So, we'd ended up there, only planning on a brief stop for a quick bite. But… when it comes to Jess and women…

We'd finished up eating a good fifteen minutes earlier. But he kept finding reasons to hang around:

"Better wait till we make sure them clouds ain't turnin' into a storm."
"Traveller needs a longer rest."
"M' back could use some easin' with more time outta the saddle."

Well, the weather had cleared. Traveller was raring to go. I've never known Jess to have a problem with his back. And from what I've been able to tell, the man was born in a saddle. He feels as comfortable there as in his rocking chair back home.

I gave him a stern look and came to my feet. "Jess, it's time we head out."

He responded with one of his 'yeah, I hear ya, and it don't make a dadgum bit of difference to me' looks. He just held up his coffee cup toward our hostess and said, "Belle, I'd be mighty obliged if you could spare jus' one more fill up for me."

I cringed at him calling her by her first name, instead of Mrs. Carson or ma'am. I looked over at the man who'd introduced himself as her husband, Buck. Beyond the frown and the narrowed eyes, I could actually see him gritting his teeth.

Belle glanced at him too. Looking to him for permission, I guessed, to pour another cup. But she began without waiting for an okay. Her actions were shaky and gave the impression that she expected disapproval. And she was right.

Buck's face turned into a thundercloud, and he directed the lightning straight at Jess. "Mister, your welcome is wore out. Pay up and get going."

"Sure, Buck. Soon's I drain this one." Jess was smiling at Belle, and I inwardly groaned when I saw him brush his hand against hers as she finished filling his cup.

I hoped Mr. Carson didn't notice it, or if he did that he'd take it as an accidental touch. But I doubted Carson would see it that way anymore than I did. It looked blatantly intentional to me. Jess, what in blazes are you thinking? Why was he continuing to aggravate the man by flirting shamelessly with his wife? Practically baiting a reaction out of the guy.

"You're going now!" Buck stood, clenching his fists and glaring at Jess. He cast a quick glance my way, but then turned his dagger-flinging eyes back toward my friend.

The anger sure didn't shock me. I'd begun to get fairly perturbed with that cocky Texan myself. And when I noticed Buck's right hand twitching near his holster… oh, man. I just prayed he wouldn't actually be foolish enough to try to draw on Jess. He'd have no idea he'd be going up against an expert gunfighter.

I could see that look in Jess's eyes, the one he gets when he's sizing up a man's intentions and figuring how good the guy could be with handling a sidearm. My worry was growing by leaps and bounds, and I was about to say something to try to diffuse the situation and prod Jess toward the door. But before I got the first word out, Jess surprised me by speaking not to Buck, but to the child.

Just sitting there at the table, perfectly calm, he said, "Holly, hon, that little doll baby cradle what needs fixin' that ya told me 'bout—why don't ya go ahead now and git it, and I'll take care of it for ya?"

"Yes, sir!" she replied happily.

Jess had directed the suggestion to the small girl without taking his eyes off the man. My curiosity was already piqued, wondering what Jess was expecting to happen, since it was obvious to me, if not to Mr. Carson, that Jess had made this suggestion about the toy purposefully to get Holly out of the room. I was starting to feel real uncomfortable about the whole situation. And that nervous feeling of mine ramped up mighty quick to a sickening degree of dread because of what Jess did next.

He'd been sitting there leaning his right elbow on the table. He casually shifted his coffee cup from his right hand to his left. Even more nonchalantly, he lowered his right arm off the table and eased back in his chair, resting his right hand on his thigh. He made it look like it was nothing more than a change to a more comfortable position. But I knew what it meant. I wondered if Buck had any idea.

Holly eagerly ran off to find the toy. And as soon as she was out of the room… all tarnation broke loose!

Released and whipped to a frenzy by, of course, none other than one Jess Harper.