Chapter Nine
O n the trail, grief was a luxury no one could afford. There wasn’t a single soul amongst them who hadn’t left behind someone, given up something, to make the difficult journey west. Levi often wondered if everything they’d endured, all they’d lost, would be worth it in the end.
Many of them would never see it.
The emigrants grew weaker and more haggard by the day.
Walker dropped back to ride beside him. “If we can keep ‘em goin’, at this pace we should reach the fort by week’s end.”
“Then what?” With a pent-up snicker, Levi clawed at his beard. He needed a shave. His skin itched.
“Get supplies. Rest a day. Maybe two.” Then he said in all seriousness, “You got some decisions that need makin’.”
Levi turned his head and just looked at him.
“You’re runnin’ out of time.”
He knew it. Mid-September, the days were pleasant, but the nights had become increasingly colder—darn near close to freezing. Winter was coming. They were running out of time quick.
Levi stopped chewing on the nub of flesh inside the corner of his lip to ask, “You been there, Josiah?”
“Been where?”
“California.”
The mountain man leaned back in the saddle, removed his hat, and raked gnarled fingers through his scraggly hair. “Yeah, I’ve been there.”
“Is it all they say? Is it worth it?”
“Well, son.” And he put the hat back on his head. “I s’pose that depends on what you’re hopin’ to find there.”
Another clearing lay ahead.
They stopped to set up camp along the river. Levi leaned back against the wagon, staring up at the painted sky as the whiskey bathed his arid throat. He prayed to God for some guidance, but found none.
Outlined in the colors of the setting sun, Lucy stood at the fire. A shining beacon of light in the dark, his hope, and his salvation. When she looked at him, nothing seemed impossible.
“Papa says we’ll be at Fort Bridger in a few days.” Biting her lip, Lucy came over and handed him a plate of beans. “We’ll be parting ways there. Saying our farewells.”
For Walker, the post on the Blacks Fork of the Green River was the end of the line. He’d turn back while they moved on. It was likely he’d never see her again.
A pang of discomfort tore through him. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered, her golden eyes cast downward.
Gently, Levi lifted her chin, gazing into a kaleidoscope of liquid topaz, sienna, amber, and honey. His thumbs brushed her cheeks, and fingers sliding into her long, luxurious locks, he brought her lips to his.
Have mercy .
Warmth. Sweet, succulent warmth. His balls tightened in his britches. He took her mouth, cradling her head in his hands, and slipped his tongue inside. The moment he tasted her, he knew, somehow, he had to keep her.
“Stay with me.”
“You can’t mean that.” Her voice cracking, Lucy peered up at him. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Yes, I do. I know exactly what I’m saying.
“Stay. With. Me.” His hands sliding down her arms, Levi pulled her close against him. “We can build a life together in California.”
“I can’t.” Her bottom lip quivering, tears sprang from her pretty eyes.
“You can.”
“You don’t understand. I won’t be accepted there with you…or anywhere. By anyone.” Swiping beneath her eyes, she shook her head. “They call me half—”
“Hush your mouth. Don’t you dare say it.” His fingertips traced her lips. “You’re beautiful, and I want nothing more than to call you mine .”
He kissed her again, urgently this time. Laying his claim on her, Levi pushed his hardness into the softness hidden beneath her skirts. Not caring if Walker, her sister, or his came upon them, he vowed to kiss “I can’t” right out of her. And God help the fool who dared to speak of Lucy as anything less than whole.
They came apart, and laying her head on his shoulder, she said, “My Shoshone name is Chosro. It means bluebird.”
My bluebird.
“It’s a lovely name.” He smiled up at a darkening sky, smoothing her hair down her back.
“My mother gave it to me. She told me they were singing when I was born.”
“How old are you, Lucy?” He hadn’t thought to ask until now.
“Sixteen.”
Good. Old enough .
To take to wife.
Then to his bed.
He’d speak to Josiah. Ask for her hand. They’d marry at Fort Bridger.
Jake cracked his window. February wind rushed in. It was cutting, but Billy had the heat cranked all the way up, making the air inside the truck dry and stuffy. He’d get a nosebleed, for chrissakes, and that was the last thing he needed.
“The fuck, bro?” His tone sharp, Billy glared. “It’s goddamn freezin’.”
“You’re roasting me from the inside out here—can’t breathe.”
“I’ll lower the heat, okay?” He turned the knob, blowing out a noisy breath. “Just close that dang window.”
“Deal.” Jake sniffed. “My nose bleedin’?”
“No, but I’ll make it bleed if you do that again,” Billy said in jest, chuckling.
At the Tetons, Jake went south toward Jackson. A song that reminded him of Emily came on the radio. Take my name… He hummed along, tapping to the beat on the steering wheel with his thumbs.
Billy glanced over his way. “What you thinkin’ about there?”
“Nothin’.”
“Explain that dopey grin on your face, then,” he said with a playful nudge to his ribs.
Jake tipped his chin toward the radio. “Reminds me of when we asked Emily to be our wife.”
She was sixteen.
He’d just graduated from UW.
Of course, they went to Miss Kim and her uncle, Matthew, to seek their blessing first. It didn’t matter if the gesture was old-fashioned, or that by then, it was already a foregone conclusion that they’d marry. Their parents raised him and his brother to be gentlemen, and it was the right thing to do.
When Jake left for college, Emily was a gangly girl with wild hair and braces. Always hanging around his brother, he had a feeling she was meant to be theirs someday, but she and Billy were just kids at the time. In high school, the Clary sisters once sought his attention. Everleigh was the first girl he ever kissed, and her sister’s pussy, the first one he ever touched. While he was away at Laramie, besides going to classes and studying, he did what most guys in college do—play hard and fuck harder. But as fun as it was, it never felt quite right.
When Jake came home for spring break his senior year, the braces were gone, and Emily wasn’t a gangly kid anymore. Like a flower in her garden, she’d blossomed. She looked at him differently. Billy looked at her differently. He knew then that the feeling in his gut he’d pushed aside four years before was the right one. It was all falling into place. She was meant to be theirs.
Absently chewing on his lip, his brother smiled at the memory. “I was so relieved.”
“Why? Were you scared she was gonna say no?”
“Hell, no.” And he grinned. “I was scared those Clary sisters would get their hooks into you somehow, or worse, you’d meet some girl in Laramie.”
“That was never gonna happen.” With a shake of his head, Jake chuckled, then glancing at his brother, he said, “Deep down, I think I always knew it would be us three. Just had to wait on the two of you, is all.”
“Yeah?”
He offered a nod. “Yeah.”
“I was makin’ plans in my head to marry Emily on my own in case Everleigh and her sister got their way,” he said with a chortle. “Those girls had it bad for you.”
“So that’s why they hitched up with Jamie Coulter so quick, huh?” He attended their wedding the summer before last. Between them, the sisters had three little ones now. “You were willing to take that chance, brother?”
While not unheard of, Matthew Brooks just did it, after all, a union other than a triad was rare. To do otherwise upset the tripartite nature of the world. One could lose favor, so few ever risked it.
Everything that comes in threes is perfect.
“For Em, yeah, I would have.”
God, how Billy loved her. If only he’d paid closer attention when his brother and Emily were kids, Jake would have seen the depth of it. More than a feeling, he would have known, then, exactly what his future was. And he wouldn’t have kissed Everleigh, or messed around with her sister, or fucked those girls in Laramie. Names and faces he couldn’t even remember. He should have waited for her, as he was waiting now.
Billy was lucky. The only kiss, the only touch he’d known, was hers. Jake almost envied him for it.
He scored a parking spot only a block away from the architect’s office. With ski season in full swing, Jackson was filled with tourists, and a space was difficult to come by. “Excited to see the plans, finally?”
“They’re just prelims, he said, but I am, yeah.” His hat sat on his lap. Fingers gripping the brim, Billy’s dark-rimmed eyes flicked over to him. “When do you think we’ll be able to break ground and get started?”
“Late April, I’d guess.” May, the latest. With any luck, the worst of winter had already passed. “Gives us a year to get it finished.”
Reaching for the door handle, Billy nodded. “That’ll keep me busy enough, I reckon.”
“Us.” Jake grabbed onto his brother’s arm to stop him from opening it.
He paused before pasting a sorry-ass smile on his face. “Right.”
“You okay?”
Billy couldn’t hide it if he tried. Something troubled that brilliant mind of his.
“Yeah.” Shoulders slumped, he sat back, staring down at the floorboards. “They’re startin’ to round up the cows. It’s almost time.”
So that’s it.
Calving season.
And once it began, there’d be no time for anything else—Emily, included. It was all work, on very little sleep, until the last calf was born. That was just the way of it.
“Kellan said he shortened breeding from ninety days to sixty this time, so we’ll be done in April,” Jake offered. Calving came around nine months later and lasted just as long.
“I know,” Billy muttered, his shrug half-hearted. “His dad wants to try out doin’ two controlled breedings this year, so there’s weaned calves to market both spring and fall.”
With a growing herd of over thirty thousand, it only made sense. Besides, when it came to ranch business and making money for Brookside, Matthew Brooks was seldom wrong. Kellan, neither.
“It’s a good move,” he concluded, clasping his brother’s shoulder. “Cattle prices hit their high in spring.”
“Costs more to feed ‘em through the winter too, but what do I know?”
“I’m sure Kellan and his father have taken all that into account.” Jake looked over at Billy, staring through the passenger window, his warm breath fogging up the cold glass. “I know what’s weighin’ on your mind.”
“Do ya?” His head whipped around. “And what’s that?”
“Emily.” He knew because it weighed on him, too. “Bein’ gone from her when it’s the only place you wanna be.”
“Won’t deny it.” Lips pursed to the side, his brother finally made it out the door.
Jake followed him. “I get it, Billy, believe me.”
“Maybe.” He put his hat on his head. “But it don’t change nothin’.”