Thankfully, that had been five years ago, and he hoped to see some change. According to Rosie, her aunt ran the finest etiquette school for young ladies in Colorado. Rosie assured him that Summer was reformed of her hellion ways. He hesitated to believe it.
Jesse swiped the back of his sleeve across his sweaty brow before squinting up at the sun. The stagecoach was late; according to the stationmaster inside the depot office, it was presumed missing. Letting out a deep groan, he rubbed his forehead. Time to break the bad news to Rosie.
He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and ambled over to where she stood on the boardwalk. He purposely kicked the heel of his boots in the dirt, creating a cloud of dust behind him. “Rosie, honey...umm...somethin’s happened to the stagecoach.”
Rosie’s head jerked his way. “What do you mean?”
“Well, accordin’ to the telegraph, the stage checked in at Denver five hours ago. They should’ve arrived here on schedule.” Jesse flipped open his pocketwatch, checked the time again, and then looked back up the road. “They’re an hour late.”
Rosie flexed her hands against her stomach while glancing up the street. “Oh, heavens. This isn’t good. What are we going to do, Jesse? This is going to worry my parents, and they shouldn’t have any extra stress right now.”
Jesse gave her an indulgent smile. Rosie was the type who worried about everything. Yet, this time she had good cause. Through her fear, she still held herself straight, not a hair out of place, wearing a fresh, wrinkle-free gray dress, and she never spoke in anything but gentle tones. Why, even now, when she was so obviously upset, she made her plea softly. Rosie was the perfect wife—female through and through, a little woman he’d be proud to come home to.
With his knuckle, he lifted her small chin and looked into her brown eyes. “Don’t you worry none. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll go out lookin’ for her. The stagecoach can’t be far from here. It’s probably just a small delay. Maybe a wheel came loose or somethin’. I’ll find her.”
Rosie’s eyes pleaded with his. “Oh, Jesse, do you mind?”
He laughed heartily. “Why should I mind?”
She gave him a slight smile. “That’s right. You do things like this all the time, and the townsfolk adore you. How could I forget Aspen’s hero?”
He laughed again. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far.” He touched his finger to the tip of her slightly freckled nose. “I’ll be back soon. If your ma happens by, tell her the stagecoach had a broken wheel. There’s no reason to worry your parents.”
She nodded, still wringing her hands. “Jesse, let me remind you, Summer might not be happy to see you. In her last letter, she sounded extremely upset about our engagement.”
Jesse pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing a deep sigh. “Yeah, I know. She still thinks I’m not good enough for you.” His gaze met with hers. “It’ll be like old times, won’t it?”
“Just don’t say anything to set her off. She’ll receive a shock once she gets home and sees what’s happened to Pa. I’d hate for anything else to disturb her.”
A small twinge of pity tightened his gut. He knew exactly how Summer would react when she saw her father again, and he knew he could not assist in her heartache. Not like he ever did before.
“I’ll do my best, Rosie, honey.” He squeezed her shoulders in a reassuring motion.
Jesse strode to his horse, mounted, and galloped away from the small chattering crowd assembled around the depot. He rode hard, only stopping to drink from his canteen. His thoughts remained on the hardheaded tomboy whom he should have turned over his knee five years ago.
An unconscious smile stretched across his face. That girl could drive him crazy. If it hadn’t been for Rosie, he would’ve wrung Summer’s skinny little neck long before now. Lord, those two sisters were as different as sweet lemonade and corn liquor.
As he guided his horse over a rise, a gunshot rang through the air. He reined to a stop. Another rifle fired. He kicked his heels into the animal’s flanks and urged the horse forward in the direction of the sounds. Arriving at the top of the knoll, he saw the stagecoach—and the group of riders shooting at it.
His heart dropped as he withdrew his pistol. He spurred his horse into a hard gallop. Moving in close enough, he aimed and fired at the nearest rider. His shot rang true as the rider tumbled to the ground in a motionless heap. Jesse turned his attention to the coach. Oh, good heavens—was that a woman in the driver’s seat fighting off the bandits as they swarmed the stagecoach?
She aimed her rifle and shot, killing the bandit holding onto the horse’s reins. Although Jesse admired her courage, that confounded woman would get herself killed.
Another rider climbed on the back of the vehicle. Terrified screams came from inside. Aiming, he narrowed his stare on the man and fired. The bandit fell off his horse, hitting the ground hard.
Jesse looked at the woman driver. She’d just blown a hole through a man right next to her. The man’s limp body hung halfway off the coach, smacking against the wheel before falling into the dust.
She pulled the team to a stop and swung her rifle around, aiming at anything that moved. Another rider approached, keeping hidden behind the conveyance. Jesse kicked his horse into action. She didn’t realize she was about to be ambushed.
With deadly accuracy, Jesse aimed at the remaining bandit and pulled the trigger. The bandit howled and fell from his horse. Jesse rode up to him, dismounted, and grabbed the man’s weapon.
When the sounds of gunfire and whining bullets ended, the passengers peeked out the window. The door opened. Two older women and an elderly gentleman hobbled out. The woman in the driver’s seat climbed down and surveyed the damage, still swinging her rifle about. They all looked dazed but unhurt.
Where was Rosie’s sister? His heart plummeted. Was she injured? Worse yet, could she have been killed in the shooting?
Jesse walked toward them, but as soon as he neared, the younger woman brought up her rifle, pointing it at his heart.
“Whoa.” He raised his hands to let the little lady see he was no threat.
