After a much-needed weekend of riding in the hills, Jesse returns to the ranch to find her lover, Meg, in trouble—ex-husband trouble. Meg had been raped, battered and bruised. It’s up to Jesse to rescue her and to see that justice is done. It’s also up to her to prove to Meg that their love can endure anything.
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Jesse’s Homecoming
Copyright © 2011 Jude Mason
ISBN: 978-1-77111-002-0
Cover art by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Jesse’s Homecoming
By
Jude Mason
To our foremothers, those amazing women who braved the frontier and who against all the odds prospered in the wilderness
Chapter One
With her eyes closed against the blinding glare of the mid-August sun, Jesse rubbed a sweaty, dirt-grimed forearm across her brow. Her battered dust-covered Stetson tipped back revealing short, curly, dirty-blond hair plastered to her head. She was sun-bronzed and lean. Some might say too lean, but she was satisfied with herself, and that was more than many women in their late twenties could say. Snug-fitting jeans and a man’s red plaid work-shirt protected most of her skin from the sun. The low-heeled boots she wore rested easy in the stirrups, and were good for walking when her horse needed relief from her weight.
She watched the bottom curve of the fiery yellow sun approach the horizon. The ranch was still half a dozen miles ahead, and she knew she’d never reach it by dark. Taking up the reins, she urged Pepper, the agile roan gelding she favored, ahead with the slightest movement of her foot. The inside of her thighs felt as if she’d been straddling a sandpaper saddle for the past two days, but she’d needed to get away from the ranch.
She smiled. When she’d asked Meg if she could handle the current batch of hired help on her own for a few days, the woman had understood and almost pushed her out the door. Thoughts of Meg were what had turned Jesse around and made her head home. She missed the older woman’s arms around her and the way they fit together in their large, homemade bed.
Still smiling, she turned Pepper’s head to the right, pointing him toward a stream she remembered from past excursions and toed him into an easy trot. Going off the trail, she ducked repeatedly under low-hanging branches and cursed when she had to lay flat against his neck to dodge one. Her thighs burned. She could hardly wait to get out of the saddle, strip out of her two-day dust-covered clothes, and get into the cool water she knew lay ahead.
Pepper’s head rose. He must have smelled the water, apparently as anxious as she was to get there. A cool drink for him—he might even join her in the stream.
“Come on, Pepper.” She nudged him with her heels. “Almost there, fella, and I need a bath.” The horse moved a little faster, his ears twitched. Jesse ducked again as they moved through the last few yards of brush before it opened onto the bank of the stream. The temperature dropped several degrees as soon as they neared the gravel bank.
She drew on the reins, stopping Pepper, and swung her leg over his butt, dropping to her feet. Quickly unbuckling the belly strap, she hauled off the saddle and rough horse blanket, letting them fall to the ground. Pepper whickered, pawed the rocky ground then snorted, as if asking if he could go. Jesse pulled his head toward her and eased the bit out of his mouth. She scratched his soft nose and said, “Off you go, get a drink.”