Chapter 9

“Oh, Ella, you must show me your ring!” Mrs. James, suddenly exclaimed. Without any response or movement from me, her slender hand shot out to mine and pulled it onto the table. A large ring adorned my slender finger, eliciting gasps from the various women at the table.

We sat in the Sundance Dining House in town. I was lunching with the Cassidy women and multiple other women of high society, Mrs. James included. 

“How beautiful! My God Loretta, how much did this thing cost?” Mrs. James asked Mrs. Cassidy with no more acknowledgement of me. 

It was lucky that before I left the house to come to this lunch, I put the ring on. It was more of an afterthought, really. I figured it would be rude of me not to wear it, especially since I would be with the family of the man who gave it to me.

The ring itself was beautiful, even I had to admit that. It was gold, with a large African diamond in the middle. Despite its beauty, I did not like it on my finger. It quite literally felt like it was restraining me, both physically and emotionally. Ambrose gave it to me the day after he returned home.

“…so that’s how my dear Ambrose obtained the gold to make this ring,” Loretta finished whatever she was saying with a crushing sense of pride and superiority. 

I called horse shit on that one. I doubt Ambrose lifted a finger while he was away. His hands were as smooth as ever, not a callous to be felt.

I retreated from the conversation once again, buttering a biscuit absentmindedly. It had been a few days since I gave in to my pride and started speaking to Jesse again. I smiled, remembering how it happened.

I was walking towards the stable to see Shadow, my hair blowing in the slight afternoon breeze. 

I froze when I reached Shadow’s stall. I could tell just by the smooth voice drifting through the stable that Jesse was visiting Shadow.

I felt both relief and dread as I stepped into the hay strewn stall. I felt a bit better when Jesse’s face lifted to mine, for it softened into a smile. 

“Señorita,” he said, standing up from his seat on the floor. “Whatever I did, I am sorry.”

That made me feel worse than I already felt, because he was right, he could not know what he did wrong because he did not do anything wrong. I let whatever petty feeling that was get the best of me, even though I had no right.

“No, I’m sorry. I have just been feeling strange about this whole Ambrose situation. I took it out on you and that wasn’t fair of me,” I responded, resting my hand on Shadow’s black mane. 

Jesse moved around the horse towards me. He rested them against the sides of my face. I knew it was wrong, but I loved the way his rough skin felt against my delicate cheeks. 

“Dios mío, Ella, what am I supposed to do with you?” He asked me, a crooked smile taking over his face.

“Nothing,” I responded, returning the smile. 

A nasally voice ripped me from my comforting memory. 

“Ella? What do you think? Should we?” Mrs. Davies asked me, her voice grating on me and actually causing me to itch a bit, if that was even possible.

Or maybe it was the damn petticoat Hannah made me wore today.

“Um…I’m sorry. Could you repeat the question? I got distracted by the…trout.”

Really, Ella? You chose food as your source of distraction? I thought to myself angrily. 

“Um…Anyways. I asked if we could go to Nanny’s and see your dress! I am just so excited for this wedding,” Mrs. Davies said, her flabby neck jiggling as she spoke. 

I eyed her overdone red lip rogue, wondering if she was ever mistaken for a Devil’s Blood whore. 

“I…There’s a dress?” I answered uneasily, shifting my eyes between Loretta and Mrs. Davies. How could there be a dress? I was never even fitted for one. 

“Of course there is, don’t be silly. Nanny is making it, it’s absolutely beautiful,” Loretta answered, giving me a slightly dirty look. She turned to Mrs. Davies. “Yes, once we finish our tea, we will go see that dress of hers.” 

I cringed inside. The wedding was coming up, even though my birthday wasn’t for months. It seemed as if the Cassidy’s would have their way; Ambrose and I would be marrying long before I reached my eighteenth year. I could not believe that Loretta had a dress made without my knowledge. Nanny must have many girls working on it for it to be completed so quickly.

I tried to swallow the ever-present panic crawling up my throat. I managed to focus on a particularly ugly hat across the room as I waited for the harpies to finish their tea. The dining room became hotter by the minute as I silently watched the women sip from delicate cups. 

The corset I wore under my uncomfortable dress was cinched much too tight. I patted my soft hair absentmindedly, trying to distract myself from my constricted waist. Hannah had been frustrated with me this morning for breaking a plate, and I had a sneaking suspicion the overly tight corset was not an accident. I sucked in my cheeks, trying to stifle my irritation.

A few minutes passed. The conversation moved from wedding planning to Ambrose once again. I glanced across the table at Rebecca, who looked just as bored as I felt. I could see the irritation and maybe even pain in her eyes every name Ambrose’s name was mentioned. I wondered what it was like having to live in the shadow of her older brother. 

I could not help but admire Rebecca’s expertise at hiding herself. Her smooth, pearly face remained perfectly still. Her narrow, bony shoulders remained utterly still as she stared at her plate. Rebecca’s bright blue eyes were the only expressive thing about her.

Those same blue eyes flitted to mine as I stared at her. They held my gaze, and something inside me snapped. I looked down at my lap, nervously twisting my ring around my finger. I could feel my cheeks heat up over being caught staring.  

“Ella? Rebecca? Shall we leave?” Loretta suddenly asked, staring at something on the bodice of my dress.

“Yes, of course,” I responded, standing up out of my chair. I quickly inspected my bodice once she looked away, but I found nothing to warrant her intense focus. 

The rest of the women stood up and made their way to the dining hall exit. I wordlessly fell into step beside Rebecca. 

It had begun to drizzle slightly outside. I could hear the women around me murmuring angrily and complaining, but my face broke into a huge smile. I adore rain. It rarely happened in Monterey, but I did my best to be outside and enjoy it when it did. 

Nanny’s dress shop was on the same side of the street as the dining hall, so the women would not ruin their precious hairdos with rain. 

We were almost to the shop when I heard the crack. It was like the sound of thunder, but more focused. My ears stung.

The women around me all stopped moving. A few of them shrieked. 

The crack sounded again, but louder.

All of the sudden, I could hear manly shouts from down the street. I strode to the edge of Nanny’s porch and peered towards where I heard the voices. I could see various people on the street doing the same thing. Women stared at the saloon with horror on their faces.

I was met with chaos. A large group of men was riding away from the Devil’s Blood Saloon on horses I recognized. They were headed towards the boarding house. That was not the focus of the commotion, though.

There was a man laying in the hardly packed dirt in front of the saloon, his hat a few feet  away from his head. His hands were raised in surrender towards the man standing above him. I could see a bloom of red on the back of his shirt. 

The standing man held a gun. 

The next few seconds passed impossibly slow. The man on the ground looked all around him, a terrified look on his face. My jaw dropped. It was Billy, the owner of Shadow. The owner who had so cruelly disregarded his horse. 

The man holding the gun was stony faced as he pointed the weapon straight at Billy’s forehead. Various women up and down the street let out little screams. 

I shut my eyes and looked away as the next crack sounded. 

A few moments passed and I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was Rebecca, staring bright-eyed at the lifeless body in the street. The rain came down in sheets, darkening the dirt road.

Without even thinking about what I was about to do, I stepped down off of the porch into the street and began running towards the boarding house. 

“Ella! What in the world do you think you are doing?” I heard Loretta shout after me.

i ignored it, and kept running through the rain towards home. It took longer than it typically would to get home. The rain was weighing down my heavy dress.

It was raining even harder by the time I got home. Hannah and my father were nowhere in sight. The only noise I could hear was coming from the men in the stables.

I made my way into my bedroom, where I stripped my heavy dress and put on a dry, comfortable one. After changing, I sat on my bed, finally allowing what I had just seen to register. 

I would never forget the sound of the gunshots, the way the red spread across the back of his shirt. The hard, unforgiving look on the assailants face. Why was Billy shot? What could he possibly have done to deserve such a fate?

Where was Jesse? Does he know one of his men was just murdered in cold blood? I flung my door open and ran to Jesse’s room, only to find that it was unlocked and empty, none of his belongings in sight. The rest of the rooms previously inhabited by Jesse’s friends were just the same. 

Panic set in. Where was he? Did he leave? He could not have left. I had more faith in our friendship than believing that he could have.

I lifted my skirt, running back down the stairs to the porch. Jesse and his men were all riding out of the stables as I stepped off the porch.

They did not notice me. Jesse and his men galloped towards the road, with the lone horse Shadow being led by Jesse at the front. 

Something inside me broke and I ran as fast as I could into the rain after them. Desperation pounded through me harder than the chilly rain on my skin.

“Jesse!” I screamed as loud as I could. “Jesse!”

I cupped my hands around my mouth, screaming even louder.

He heard me. I could see his shoulders tense up, his beautiful face turned to mine.

He stopped his horse, and the rest of the men followed suit. I watched as he and Ross exchanged a look and a few words that I could not hear. Jesse gracefully dismounted his horse and strode to me, pulling me back under the shelter of the porch.

“Señorita, I need to leave. Right now,” he told me, resting a wet hand on my equally wet shoulder.

“Jesse, what the hell happened? You cannot just leave like this!” I responded desperately. “Where are you even going?”

“Ella…Shit, Ella,” Jesse said, harshly rubbing his face with his hand. “Billy went after the wrong man. He’s after us now and we have to leave, before any of the rest of us killed.”

I grabbed his forearm, enjoying the silky bare skin against mine. He always wore his sleeves pushed up just so.

“Please. Please don’t leave me, Jesse,” I begged. I knew how desperate I must sound, but I was feeling physically ill at the thought of him leaving and never laughing and talking with me again. “I cannot stay here alone.”

“I’m so sorry, Ella. I cannot stay here. Would you rather I be killed?”

“Dammit, Jesse!” I could myself shaking, but it wasn’t from the cold. I had never felt so desperate in my life. My eyes widened, and I gripped his arm harder. “Take me with you. I can go with you, Jesse.”

The thought of Jesse leaving was eating away at my stomach. I could not stay here without him as my relief. I could not be an object any longer; I could not marry a man I did not love and live a life of quiet desperation. I could feel my eyes tearing up at the thought of doing nothing but having tea and bearing children for the rest of my life. 

Jesse was like the breath of fresh air to my terrible reality.

“Hell no. If you think that you are coming with us then you are mad. Where we are going is no place for a-”

“For a what? For a lady? Goddamn you, Jesse-”

“You two need to quit your bickerin’ right now. We gotta get a move on, Jess. Either this lady comes with us or you never forgive yourself for leavin’ her behind. Take your pick now, amigo.” A voice broke through our argument, and I looked to see Ross on top of his horse right behind Jesse. His bright green eyes gazed at Jesse with intense understanding. Raindrops dripped off of the brim of his black hat.

Jesse shot the dirtiest look I had ever seen at him. His face softened as he looked back at me. He held my gaze with those light brown eyes of his, and all of the sudden, I knew I had won. He felt just as I did. I could see the raw emotion in his eyes; he could not leave me.

“Maldita sea al infierno, Ella,” he said, gently grabbing my forearm and dragging me to the house. “Does your father have a war-bag?”

I nodded, letting Jesse pull me up the stairs to my fathers room. He always kept war-bags under his bed; I knew this from many years of snooping. I swept aside balls of dust  and ripped socks and pulled a big canvas bag that went over both of my shoulders.

After grabbing the bag, I took it to my room and filled it with things I would need wherever I was going. Jesse watched awkwardly as I tore my room apart. I could tell he must feel uncomfortable being in my room, it probably felt entirely improper to him.

 I added the letters from my father, a hairbrush, and some undergarments. Without letting Jesse see, I shoved a pair of tan pants I had stolen from my father long ago. I had never had the courage to actually wear them. I clasped my mother’s chain around my neck as an afterthought, running my fingers along the box it resides in’s surface one last time. 

I looked around my room, the memories of the many years spent in the house flashing through my mind. Hannah singing me to sleep. The time I rescued Cat, washing his bloody fur with warm water. My father’s good-natured grumbling about anything and everything. They were happy memories. I had to leave before they were scarred with the impending doom of my soon-to-be married life.

Jesse and I were about to leave my room when I remembered something. I slipped into my washroom and grabbed the bars of soap I still had, stuffing them into my full sack. Jesse smirked, yet said nothing at this.

Within seconds, we were back in the rain. I struggled to keep up with his stride as he all but ran back to the horses. My tall leather boots kept my feet dry against the wet dirt under my dress.

I froze in my tracks.

“What is the matter?” Jesse asked exasperatedly. I could tell he did not approve of me coming along, even though it was what he desired and maybe even needed. It would cause so many problems for him, people would probably come after us. I knew I would be a burden, and a dangerous one at that. But I did not care one bit.

“Um…” Not being able to find the right words, I gestured to the horses. How was I supposed to get on? I assumed I would be riding Shadow, he was the only horse without a rider. He had two bedrolls tied to his saddle, and small saddle bags on either side of his wide body.

He and Ross exchanged another glance, and without one word Jesse grabbed my hips, lifting me over the side of Shadow. The water resting on Shadow’s saddle quickly soaked through my thin grey dress.

I swung my leg over his flank as if by instinct. I had never ridden a horse before; being so high up off the ground was a curious feeling.

“You are going to have to get used to moving fast quickly, Señorita,” Jesse told me, reaching over to Shadow’s reigns. He took my hands, demonstrating how to hold the reigns correctly. I loved the way his calloused hands felt against mine.

After a few moments of basic training from Ross and Jesse, I declared myself ready. My only complaint was how my skirt felt stretched between my legs. Side saddle was just not an option for the speed we would be riding at.

With one final glance from Jesse, he began his gallop again away from the house. Excitement swelled in my stomach, and I let out a little laugh. I was finally riding a horse! It felt wonderful! Nothing my father or Hannah or the Cassidy’s had ever told me mattered anymore; I was leaving. I was free.

Chapter 8

I tilted my chin upwards in response, heat rushing to my face. I wanted to run away as fast as I could. His piercing gaze met mine, and I felt both safe and threatened. 

I summoned up every ounce of courage I had, turning around and walking slowly to my room, maintaining my composure. 

After entering my room and making sure it was sufficiently locked, I all but ran into my little washroom. I poured water from my small pitcher into the matching bowl, then proceeded to splash my face with it, attempting to cool down the fiery feeling against smooth skin. 

What even was that? I felt both alive and terrified at the same time. Ross knows that I know that the stain is blood. He did not have any visible wounds. 

Whose blood could it be? Why wasn't he more worried about me knowing? 

All of these thoughts ran through my mind rapidly as I readied myself for bed. 

My mind was still buzzing by the time I slipped into my large bed. The silky feel of my dressing gown against my legs did nothing to soothe my wild thoughts. I tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore them and fall asleep, but there were too many questions in my head that were unanswered. 

I sat up in bed, trying to think of an activity I could partake in to put myself asleep. My fingers began braiding my hair, weaving it into a long, thick side-braid over my left shoulder. I tied it with a frayed red ribbon sitting on the stand by my bed.

The distraction was short-lived. The hooting of an owl outside my window brought my senses back, and the smirking face of Ross popped right back into my mind.

Bloodstain or not, he can’t be all that bad, right? I thought to myself. Jesse seems to have a lot of affection towards the grizzled man. This actually made me feel much better. Jesse could be trusted. 

Could Jesse really be trusted, though? The feel of the pretty gun in my hand flashed through my mind with this thought. I immediately got mad at myself for thinking so negatively about Jesse, basically the only person I could consider a friend.

I was going crazy. I needed to spend some time with women, and as soon as possible. All of the men I was surrounded by day in and day out were causing me to lose my mind. My first thought was of the Cassidy women. They’re technically my family, right? I could spend time with them.

I almost laughed aloud at this ridiculous idea. I knew that I would never feel welcome among them. They are too different from me. All we have in common is Ambrose. Those women grew up pristine, never lifting a finger for anyone or anything. I doubt they have any interest in horses, reading, or small handguns. I often times felt as if the only Cassidy that truly liked and approved of me was the elder Mr. Cassidy, my father’s friend. 

I stood up from my soft bed, fully aware that I was not going to sleep anytime soon. I lit the oil lantern I kept beside my bed, enjoying the warm flicker that immediately took over the room. The silky nightdress I wore brushed gently up against my legs as I stood. As if by instinct, my legs buckled and I sunk to the wood floor, sitting Indian-style next to my bed. My hands reached under the bed until they came into contact with smooth wood. I extracted my hands from under the bed, a small box in them. 

I set the box on the floor in front of me, running my fingers across the carved wooden surface of the box. There wasn’t any particular picture carved, it was just a pretty, loopy design. The corner of the box displayed a cursive “Jane” carved into it. It was my mother’s box. It was given to her by my father on their wedding night, and left to me when she died. 

The box’s interior was lined with pretty cloth that I wish I had more of. It held various things of value to both me and my mother. A long silver chain my mother owned since her youth, a few love letters from my father that I could not bring myself to read, and some random tokens from my childhood. My favorite item was the chain, but I had yet to ever wear it. There was no token, no charm on it, and it felt too plain to me. It felt as if something were missing from it. 

I fingered the yellowed letters thoughtfully, only allowing myself to read the “Jane” written on the front in messy scrawl that belonged to my father. I could not help but notice that we have the same handwriting. 

I had never known my mother. She died before I turned four. All I knew was that she died in some terrible accident, and that I was never to ask for details or speak of it. Hannah had given me little tidbits of information about my mother over the years, but nothing substantial. 

I could never really bring myself to miss her. I never knew her, how could I miss her? I miss the concept of a mother, but I cannot even complain too much there, as I have Hannah, and that is far more than many girls have. The young girls that work at The Devil’s Blood saloon, for example. Obviously they had no mother figure at all in their lives, what mother could let their daughter become a woman of the night?

I returned the letters to the box and slid it back to safety under my bed. I stood back up, bored once again. The house was still alive with noise, laughter and thumping coming from the various rooms down the hall. I wished that I could go join, but that would be beyond improper. I wondered if Jesse was there, having fun with them. Something told me he wasn’t. He seemed far more refined than those other men, his manners much better. He did not seem like one for making noise, at least not to the extent of the other men. 

A knock sounded at my door. My head snapped in that direction so quickly that it almost hurt. I strode over to it quickly, fumbling with the lock before cracking it open. 

“Ella? Can we talk?” It was Hannah. Relief and disappointment flooded through me at the same time. I know who I wanted to see, and it was not Hannah.

“Um, sure…Come in,” I told her, opening the door up wider. I did not even waste time feeling modest around Hannah. She had seen me in far less than my thing nightgown. She was still fully dressed, even clothed in a crisp white apron. Her light brown hair was pulled into a bun. She looked so motherly it made my heart swell with love. 

Hannah looked a bit unsure about what to do in my room. She rarely ever comes in, as I take care of all of the cleaning and such when it comes to my room.

“Sit down here, Hannah,” I said, scooping Cat up from my rocking chair by the window. “Sorry. Cat just thinks he owns this place sometimes.”

Hannah took the seat, looking at Cat, who was resting comfortably in my arms, with a look that I could only describe as faint disgust. I suppose the mangled paw just wasn’t for everybody. 

I sat down on the floor next to Hannah’s feet. 

“So…What was it that you wanted to discuss, Hannah?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me. 

“Well, Dear…It’s about Ambrose. Are you happy he is back? You hardly mentioned him at all today…” Hannah trailed off, her vision stuck on her hands. They rested in her lap, clenched tightly together.

At first, I had no idea what to say. She caught me by surprise. I buried my face in Cat’s musty fur, trying to think of an acceptable answer.

“He just returned, Hannah. I’ve only seen him once…”

“Yes, yes, I know that. But…You used to go on about him for hours. Has something with you changed? I don’t…Ella. I don’t know how else to say this,” Hannah answered. 

“Say what?” I asked her. I did not like where this conversation was going.

“You and that man, Jesse. You two are just…It’s inappropriate. You are engaged and he is a boarder…You should not be friends with him. People talk and if the Cassidy family caught wind…It would not be good for the arrangement,” Hannah stated, her voice a strange combination of nervousness and determination. She wrung her hands in her lap. 

“How could you even suggest this, Hannah? I would never…” I found that I could not finish this sentence. Because I couldn’t tell if it was true anymore. Would I really never? “That is ridiculous, Hannah. There is nothing wrong with me being friends with him.”

“Yes, Ella, there is. Your father is worrying. That Jesse boy is nothing. He cannot give you what Ambrose can give you. Your activities in the kitchen tonight were entirely inappropriate. Do you think a respectable woman behaves as so? Being friends with him will bring you nothing but problems.”

Hannah’s voice was growing steadier with every word she spoke. 

“No, Hannah. He has been a good friend to me and I have not run into any troubles with him. I don’t even know how you could suggest something like this but I would like to go to bed now. It would be best if you leave,” I said, standing up and striding to the door. I flung it wide open and held it ajar for Hannah. 

Her face crumpled a bit. She nervously stood up, fidgeting with her dress and hair. She looked as if she wanted to say something else to me. Her brown eyes were wide and sparkly with tears.

“Ella, I don’t mean to upset you. I am just trying to show you what is best for you. What’s best for us,” she said, 

I looked away from her, hardening my resolve while trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I hardened my face into a stony mask.

Her tears began to fall at my show of stoicism. She began to swipe at them with her apron, hurrying out of my bedroom. I slammed it shut and locked it, angrier than I had ever been in my life. How dare Hannah suggest that the one friend I have is bringing me down? 

I paced my room for a few minutes, thinking about Jesse and how defensive I was about him. In a matter of weeks he had become more important to me than Ambrose, the supposed love of my life. He was warm, he was kind, he was so polite, especially in comparison to Ambrose. I sat down in the rocking chair, fingering my braid thoughtfully. I sat there for a few moments, thinking about the consequences of being friends with him. 

A loud thump sounded from the hallway. Laughter and loud voices ensued, followed by doors closing. 

My brow furrowed. What on Earth…? I quickly made my way to the door, unlocking it and peeking out.

My eyes were met with the retreating forms of the rowdy men, Jesse trailing the crowd quietly. 

Despite my silence, Jesse froze. I could see the muscles in his broad shoulders tighten, and he turned slowly.

He visibly relaxed when he saw my head poking out. He smiled and waved at me, then turned to follow his friends down the stairs. 

Without even thinking about what I was doing, I ran down the hallway after him. He did not notice I was following him until he was at the bottom of the stairs.

“Where are you going?” I asked from my spot a few steps up. The house was dark, the only light being through the window from the moon. It made Jesse’s face look sharper, even more sculpted.

“Oh. Ella, you scared me,” Jesse answered, spinning around again to look at me. His eyes widened when he saw that I only wore a thin nightgown. He looked away. “We are going to that saloon. The one with the terrible name.”

I could not help but laugh at this. It really was a terrible name.

“The Devil’s Blood.,,” I said, my insides wilting a bit. 

The Devil’s Blood Saloon had a bad reputation, hooligans and whores functioning side by side. I did not think Jesse was the type to visit such a place. 

“Yes, that’s it. It was not my idea, obviously. I just need to relax a bit…” He said, trailing off. 

An awkward silence followed. 

“I should go, Señorita. I don’t want to keep them waiting,” Jesse stated. His large hand covered the doorknob. He was making steady eye contact with me, doing everything in his power to keep his gaze away from my scantily clad body. 

“Yeah, I suppose you should,” I responded, far harsher than I intended. I whirled around and ran back to my room.

I was mad. I had no way to explain why, as Jesse was just my friend and I could not be mad at him for going somewhere. But for some reason, there was a gnawing sensation deep inside my stomach.

I got back in bed, and lay there awake for hours, unable to sleep. I could only fall asleep when I heard the mens’ footsteps making their way back down the hall towards their rooms once again.

I avoided Jesse for the next few days, throwing myself into boarding house upkeep, visiting Shadow when I knew Jesse wasn’t, and lunching with the Cassidy women. These days were dreadful, it was hard to think that the rest of my life would consist of housework and mindless gossip.

I grew more and more desperate every time I saw Ambrose. Despite our agreement that we would marry when I turned eighteen, he and his mother were pressuring me into tying the knot earlier than that. Within the month? They had to be joking. I was becoming suffocated within myself, and I knew the only thing that provided relief was Jesse.

Everything about him was like fresh air to me. His unfamiliar language. His smile, his gentleness. The way he made me feel like an equal, not some woman who was just here to serve him. Not talking to him the past few days was terrible. I knew that these thoughts were unacceptable, that they could ruin what Ambrose and I had going. 

But for all it was worth, I could not bring myself to care.

Chapter 7

I leaned against Jesse’s hard chest, letting my tears soak into his customary white shirt. My shoulders heaved and shook with every sob that overcame my body.

Weak. I feel weak, I thought to myself. 

Hannah always said to never let a man see you cry. They do not care, they do not want to know, they do not want to see it. 

There I go, not listening to Hannah once again. 

Jesse’s muscular arms were wrapped around my shoulders, his chin resting on my head. His hand rubbed my back soothingly. 

After a few moments, my crying wore down and I started to reluctantly pull away. We were in a compromising position. I cannot be going around with other men touching me. 

“What happened, Señorita? Did he hurt you?” Jesse asked me, his voice hard and velvety. 

“Wha-no. He did not hurt me… I just… I do not know what to do. He’s coming here after months and he wants to get married as soon as possible and he wants babies but I am not ready for babies and Jesse I cannot do this. I do not know him and I do not care about him enough!” I exclaimed, barely taking time to breathe. 

Jesse seemed at a loss for words. 

“I do not…Ella. I am sorry…” He said, obviously uncomfortable.

“No, no. I am sorry. I should not be telling you about this…I need to get over it.” I told him, stepping further away. My hands swiped furiously at the tears on my cheeks. I felt so embarrassed about what just transpired, crying all over a man who is just my friend and boarder. 

“Ella if you feel that bad about this then you should not do it. Forget the rules, forget your manners. You cannot live like that!” Jesse seemed to be getting visibly mad about this. 

“Jesse…I need to go. Thank you for being here but I’m sure Hannah needs my help. I’ll see you at dinner.” I told Jesse, already turning around to hurry out of the stable. As I slipped through the door, I looked back at Jesse one more time. He was watching me exit, his strong arms hanging loosely at his sides. 

After collecting myself in the foyer of the house, I joined Hannah in the kitchen. She was stirring a huge pot of pork and beans, occasionally stopping to wipe her brow. She greeted my with a smile.

“Need any help?” I asked her, leaning against the table.

“No, thanks. It’s almost ready. The whole group is gonna be at dinner tonight,” she answered, looking a bit weary. I felt bad for not helping her out more.

I sat down at the little table, listening to her talk about the pants I had seen her washing earlier. 

“That stain just would not come out, I don't even know what it was,” Hannah said, tasting the spoon. “I don’t know if I should return them to Ross or toss them out.”

“Who’s Ross?” I asked her. The name sounded familiar but I couldn’t place it.

“That’s one of the men staying with Jesse’s group. I couldn’t describe him to you, they all look the same…” She told me, trailing off as she tasted the spoon again.

“Oh,” I said. I couldn’t really think of much else to say about the pants. They're pants, for God’s sake. “You don't know what the stain was?” 

“No…Looked like dirt or some kind of food to me. Oh well. I’ll ask him later,” Hannah answered. She went back to stirring the beans, looking so serene and happy with her life that I felt tears well up in my eyes. I made my way over to her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, needing to be held by someone I considered a mother. 

Hannah laughed then hugged me back.

“What’s gotten into you, my dear? Too much sun?” She asked, feeling my forehead.

“Nope, just wanted to give you a hug. I’ll go take a look at that stain,” I answered, not wanting to start crying again in front of her. 

“Okay, dear. I’ll ring the bell for dinner in a few moments.”

I stepped into the adjacent laundry room. It smelled nice in here, like fresh flowers and bitter soap. I could see the light brown pants sitting in the washing sink.

I reached the sink, then fingered the dry part of the pants softly. They were made of nice material, but very worn, there was fraying at the hems. I located the stain, viewing it from various angles.

The stain looked familiar, like I had seen one like it before. I stroked the pants again, when a little memory hit me. 

I was ten years old, pestering my father as he cut through some wood for our fireplace. His axe swung through the air, splintering each log with efficiency. I asked him if I could ride a horse that belonged to one of our current boarders.

“No, Ella. It’s not my horse and you don’t know how to ride,” he answered, getting fed up with my begging.

“Yes, Daddy, I know that. But if you actually would let me ride it, I would learn,” I argued. 

“No. Riding a horse is too dangerous. Don’t ask me again, Ella,” my father said firmly. Horse riding was the one subject he wouldn’t talk to me about.

He bent down to pick up one of the splintery logs, then swiftly dropped it.

“Dammit. Splinter,” he told me, smiling and wiping his bloodied hand on his pants. 

Blood. That’s what the stain is. It’s a big stain, a lot of blood. I pulled the pants out of the sink, then snuck them up to my room, taking care not to let Hannah see me holding them. I draped them over the rocking chair by the window. I wasn’t sure what I was planning on doing with them, I just didn’t want Hannah to realize that it was blood. 

I went back down the stairs to the kitchen, arriving just as Hannah rang the bell. Jesse and all his men sat around the dining table, acting rowdy. They all seemed to tame a bit when Hannah and I entered, though. I took the open spot between Jesse and a man whose name I did not remember.

I dug into my beans, trying to ignore the loud talking around me. 

“How are you?” Jesse’s quiet voice broke my thoughts. He sipped a cup of water, brown eyes watching me from over the rim.

“Fine. I feel much better now,” I told him, trying to avoid meeting his eyes. I got the feeling that they would be able to see my lie. 

“Oh, is that so?” Jesse asked, a hint of amusement in his velvety voice.

“Yes, Jesse, it is so. Stop making this harder for me,” I shot back. “I appreciate the concern but I am completely fine.”

“No need to get angry, Señorita.” 

I sighed with resignation. 

“Sorry. Just frustrated with the situation,” I responded.

Our little conversation was interrupted by the man sitting next to me. 

“Jesse, you know when the laundry is gonna be done? I’m down to my last pair of pants,” he said. He had a grizzled beard but kind eyes.

“Nah, Ross. Ella here might know, though. Ella?” Jesse answered, nudging my shoulder a bit. 

“Um. You’re Ross. I have your pants in my room…I’ll bring them to your room tonight,” I told Ross, trying to ignore Jesse, who was looking at me with questioning eyes. 

“Well thanks little lady. I appreciate that,” he responded with a mouthful of beans. 

The conversation between Ross, Jesse, and I carried on. We talked about random things, and they both had me laughing by the time dinner was over. Ross had a raunchy, completely male sense of humor that I was entirely not used to, and Jesse had the wit that balanced it out. It was obvious how close they were by the friendly jabs they constantly exchanged. 

“And that’s how my boy Jesse here, got himself covered in beer, bruises, ’n horse shit,” Ross concluded his story, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. His laughter was contagious. 

“Alright, alright. I think you need to quiet down now, Ross. I’ve got much worse on you, amigo.” Jesse quipped, punching Ross on the shoulder good-naturedly. His face looked great when he smiled like that.

Ross must have noticed my confused face, because he leaned in to me.

“Amigo means friend in that little language of his. You pick up a bit of Spanish after bein’ around this here badman so often,” Ross said, pushing up from the table. “I’m gonna head upstairs to use the crapper,” he said loudly, tossing his napkin down onto his empty plate. “Thanks for dinner, Miss. Hannah.”

I looked down at my plate, mortified. I had never heard anyone so blatantly announce their intended bathroom activities, at the dinner table, no less. Despite the obvious rudeness, I couldn’t help but smile a bit. I bet Hannah was beside herself.

“Sorry about that, Señorita. He can be a bit…open,” Jesse muttered, obviously amused. 

His light brown eyes danced with humor unknown to me, stories that would never be told.

“It’s fine, actually. I appreciate the honesty,” I said, smiling at Jesse, hoping I looked as good as him doing so. I began picking up the rest of the dishes on the table. Only Hannah and my father and Jesse were still at the table. 

Hannah and my father looked to be in deep conversation. I couldn’t help but smile at how moony she looked, sitting there, talking to my father. I wished my father would just wake up one day and see that Hannah is hopelessly in love with him. I could tell how much she loved him by the way she looked at him, like he was this beautiful view she would never get tired of looking at. I never looked at Ambrose that way.

I looked away to see Jesse entering the kitchen, the rest of the plates stacked in his arms. While I would have wavered and possibly tripped holding such a large stack, he carried them with ease, setting them in the sink making no noise.

“What are you doing?” I asked him, gently pushing him away from the sink.

“Let’s see, what’s the word? Helping,” he responded. 

“Why? Don’t you have some sort of man activity to partake in?”

“Ah. That reminds me. I need to go roll in some mud. Chop some wood, too. Then I’m going to make the decision to never bathe again,” he responded sarcastically. 

I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise. 

“Is that so?” I asked, scrubbing at a plate. 

“Yep. But first, I’m helping you with these,” he told me, nudging me away from the sink as I had done to him moments earlier. “I will wash. You will dry,” he said, handing me a clean plate. 

I decided not to argue. It was fascinating to see a man actually doing ladies’ work. He seemed to know what he was doing, too. Put my father in that same situation and he would look like a cowboy stuck down there on the beach. Absolutely clueless.

“Speed it up Señorita, these hands can’t stop for anything!” He exclaimed jokingly, teasing me for my below average drying skills.

As I dried, I admired his tanned forearms dipping into the sudsy water. The water droplets clung to the golden skin whenever he handed a clean item to me.

“Where did you even learn to wash dishes?” I asked him, giving in to the curiosity. 

“My mamá. She stuck to her beliefs that men could be useful both in and outside of the house,” he answered, smiling affectionately. “She was a tough one.”

I tilted my head, watching his eyes twinkle at the mention of his mother. This woman was someone I needed to meet, teaching men to clean and all. Must be why Jesse’s room was so neat. 

“Where did you grow up?” I blurted out, hoping I didn’t sound too nosy. 

“Los Angeles. My family moved there after the Mexican-American war. Have you heard of that war?” Jesse responded. He was almost done with the dishes. 

“In passing, yes. I used to hear boarders talk about it when I was younger…My father would never really talk about it though. I suppose it isn’t good conversation for a lady to partake in.”

“My father fought and died in that war. My mamá was left to raise me and my sisters alone. Strongest woman I’ve ever known.” 

Jesse did not seem all that saddened about his father. I suppose he had to have been fairly young when his father died. 

“How many sisters do you have?” I asked him eagerly. 

“I have three sisters. They are all older than me, much to my displeasure,” he said. “Always a house filled with women, it was. My sisters and their friends, Mamá and her friends. It is a wonder that I turned out so manly, isn’t it, Señorita?” His eyes danced with humor at this.

“Are you sure you’re so manly, Jesse? After all, you are washing dishes,” I shot back at him, proud of my witty reply. 

Before I knew what was happening, Jesse’s hand shot out from the sink, flicking me with soap and water. 

My jaw dropped. I wiped my face with my sleeve, then stuck my hand right back in the sink to reciprocate his action.

This went on for a few minutes before we were interrupted by a throat being cleared. 

Our laughter immediately died out. 

“What are you two doing?” Hannah asked, her eyes a bit wide. 

“Oh. Um. Jesse was helping me do the dishes,” I answered rather unhelpfully. 

“Was he helping you do the kitchen, too? It’s a mess in here,” she said, looking around at the water splattered kitchen.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I will clean it up right now,” Jesse spoke up, reaching for the towel I had been drying the dishes with.

“No, no, dear. I will take care of it. Both of you, get out of here, before either of you break something,” Hannah answered nicely, shooting me a dirty look. 

I was going to be in so much trouble tomorrow. I could already hear the lecture I was going to receive. 

Jesse and I slipped out of the kitchen without another word. As we reached the staircase, we both looked at each other and smiled. 

I entered my bedroom without another word to him, shutting it and leaning against it softly. It had been such a long day. I was about to sit in the rocking chair when I noticed the pair of pants draped over it. 

I had completely forgotten about the pants. The bloodstain. The very large bloodstain. 

I picked them up, then approached the room that Hannah had pointed out as Ross’. 

I knocked lightly, silently hoping he wouldn’t be in there. 

“Well hey there, little Miss. Those my pants you got there?” Ross asked with a friendly smile. 

“Wha—oh. Yes, here. I wasn't able to get the bloo—the stain out. Sorry about that.”

“Aw, now that’s okay. They’re still wearable, right?” Ross said, taking the pants with another smile. 

“Um. Yes, of course. You have a good night, Ross,” I said, torn between running away in fear and staying to joke around. There were two sides to this man, I could tell.

“You too little lady,” Ross stated. “And Ella?” He said, causing me to stop halfway down the hall and turn around. 

He wordlessly dropped an eyelid into a wink, raising a tough finger to his lips.