Give My All to Jessie (Third in Outlaw Series)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"So what'll it be, Jessie? Am I staying or am I going?" Langley asked as he stood there at the door to their hotel room and studied her with sad eyes.

Jessie leapt from the bed and ran to him. "You're staying, Langley!" she exclaimed as she threw her arms around his neck and buried her tear soaked face in his chest. "You're staying because I can't live without you."

"I'm glad you finally realized that, you stubborn woman. It only took dying to open your eyes."

Jessie pulled away, a frown curving her lips downward. "Dying? I'm dead?"

He nodded as he ran a gentle knuckle down her cheek. "You got shot in the chest, remember?"

"Yeah but you got shot in the chest and you didn't die. That stupid book you loved so much saved you. Remember?"

Langley chuckled sadly and cupped her chin in his hand, stroking the cleft in the center with his thumb. "Yeah, but you don't read."

Jessie let out a choked sob. "But I don't want to be dead! I want to spend my life with you."

He shrugged one shoulder. "Sorry."

Jessie stomped her foot and clenched her fists. "No! No, no no!"

"Jessie, wake up!"

Jessie's eyes flew open when she heard her mama's voice desperately trying to calm her. She looked around and felt panic. Where was she? And why did her chest hurt so damn bad?

Jessie tried to sit up but was so weak she couldn't manage even that simple movement. "Relax now," her mama urged. "I've sent one of the other ladies after the doctor now that you seem to be awake. I'm so happy you're awake!"

Jessie let her eyes find her mother. The woman looked different. Her face was clean and paint free. Her eyes were clear without a trace of redness and while they seemed tired they weren't bloodshot. She looked clean, completely fresh and entirely sober.

"Where am I?" Jessie asked, her voice barely more than a cracking whisper. "What happened?"

"Here, drink this," Leah said, holding a glass of water in one hand and lifting Jessie's head with the other. Jessie drank several swallows, grateful when the cool liquid soaking into her parched tongue and throat.

"You are in my room, Jessie. You should remember why you're here. You were shot, you foolish girl."

Jessie watched as her mother paced about the spotless room, tidying tidy shelves and adjusting smooth curtains. "I was shot?"

"Don't you remember?" Leah demanded.

Jessie closed her eyes and, yes, she did remember. The man, the blood, the pain—it all came pouring back.

"He shot you in the chest but it was far enough to the side that it missed your heart and only managed to break a rib. But the fever nearly took you from us. You have been out for four days! Four days I've been sitting here thinking my little girl was going to die! Do you have any idea how terrible that is?"

"Like you care," Jessie snorted, regretting the sarcasm instantly.

"I did care," Leah snapped, slamming a book down with force. She crossed the room the Jessie's bedside and tears were in her violet eyes. "Of course I care. You're my daughter."

"You've never cared, mama," Jessie countered quietly. "You ran off and left me behind a long time ago."

"You were better off with your pa then you were with me!" Leah insisted. "I didn't want you turning into what I am. Now I hardly think that now is the time to be discussing this. You're weak and I'm sure you're hungry. The doctor will be here any moment and it's nearly time for me to go to work in the room Madame Francine had given me to work out of while you recover."