Changespell 01 Dunn Lady's Jess Read online

  They returned to the university an hour and a half before the surgical procedure was slated to finish, and Jaime knew from experience that there was no point in returning to the clinic with some faint hope of news. She dropped the hand-copied characters from the sealed papers off at the language department, and then they walked the central oval of the vast campus, sightseeing amongst the stately older buildings. Or, rather, Jaime looked at the buildings and Jess reveled in the flat grassy area, jigging ahead, stopping now and then to watch the occasional bandanna-adorned, frisbee-chasing dog.

  Then classes ended and the floodgates opened. Students rushed madly from here to there, intent on covering long distances in as little time as possible. Jess had lagged behind to stare at the massive statue of President William Oxley Thompson in front of the library; now she caught up to Jaime with such haste that she bumped into her.

  Startled, Jaime reached out to steady her, and discovered that Jess was wide-eyed, her head thrown back to regard the flow of students around them. She continued to walk almost on Jaime's heels, and finally Jaime stopped, and took Jess' shoulders in her hands. "It's all right, Jess," she said firmly. "In a few minutes they'll be gone. They're just students trying to get from one of these buildings to another. Do you understand?"

  "No," Jess said in a small voice. Someone jostled her from behind and she flinched, one leg lifting sharply and then settling in some aborted movement.

  "They'll be gone in a minute," Jaime repeated. "See? Watch them. They came out of these buildings—and even now you can see that they're all going back inside. Look at them."

  Obediently, Jess looked around the oval. The mass of moving bodies hadn't yet decreased, but it was evident that there were more of them entering buildings than were coming out.

  "Have you ever been to school, Jess?"

  A quick, short nod stirred thick shaggy hair, but there was hesitation there as well. "Not like this," Jess said, eventually putting her thought into words.

  Jaime nodded. "This is one of the largest schools in the country," she said. "There are quite a few satellite campuses, too." Then she looked from the finally thinning crowd to Jess' blank expression and laughed out loud. "That didn't mean a thing to you, did it?"

  A small shy grin. "No."

  The students continued to part around them like water around a rock in the middle of a stream, but Jess had relaxed; her gaze was back on the statue.

  "It wasn't the crowd, was it?" Jaime asked in sudden insight. "It was the not understanding."

  Jess' eyes traveled back to hers, her expression a visual question mark.

  "Never mind," Jaime said, certain enough that she'd been correct. "C'mon. Mirror Lake is just down this hill—if you can call anything this gentle a hill—and there's usually someone nearby selling hot dogs." She glanced at her watch to see that they'd have enough time to eat without doing it on the run, and set off for the lake.

  It was a pond, really, so shallow you could see the bottom, and man-made at that. But in the center rose a pleasant, simple fountain, and the trees and shrubs that circled the area separated it from the activity of the rest of the campus, making it an oasis of peace.

  And just over the slight rise on the other side of the pond, Jaime could see the canopy of the hot dog vendor's cart. "Good," she said with satisfaction. She pointed out one of the benches by the edge of the pond, and said, "Wait here. I'm going to get something for us to eat."

  A nod confirmed agreement and Jaime left her, satisfied that Jess' already apparent fascination with the fountain would keep her occupied.

  She bought two hot dogs, and an extra bun so they could feed the few mallards that hung around the pond. But when she turned back, she almost dropped it all, for Jess was in the middle of the shallow water, stepping carefully, reaching out to touch the cascading water of the fountain. Standing at the edge of the pond was a visibly irate member of campus security; Jaime could hear his loud commands, but Jess was lost in the noise of the water. A particularly angry expression crossed the man's face and he, too, stepped into the water.

  "No, wait!" Jaime yelled, juggling hot dogs as she ran back to the pond. If the man heard her, he was too intent on Jess to pay any attention. He strode up to Jess from behind and firmly took both her arms; Jaime abandoned the hot dogs and sprinted as Jess flew into motion, slamming her foot backwards into the man's shin with amazing force; she twisted and flung herself around with struggles that only increased when they met failure. She fell into the rising spray of the fountain and dragged the man with her, and they ended up tussling in the water.

  Jaime hit the cold pond without slowing down, pushing through two gawking students on her way. Awkward in the water, she barely stopped in time to keep from piling on top of the wrestling figures. "Jess!" she yelled above the noise of the struggle and the splash of the fountain. "No, Jess—whoa!"

  It didn't have the magic of the last time she'd used it; it was the man who realized she was there and trying to help.

  "Calm her down before I hurt her!" he bellowed, right before Jess' heel connected with the side of his face. She slithered out of his momentarily weakened grasp and floundered through the water.

  Jaime knew that look: Jess was on the run again. She lunged directly into Jess' path and flung her arms out wide, not grabbing for her, but making herself large and imposing.

  Jess stopped short; she snorted water out of her nose and tossed back the sodden mass of her hair.

  "Be easy, Jess," Jaime murmured, not possibly loud enough to be heard over the fountain and the water running off the rising security man, but Jess seemed to respond to it anyway, despite her heaving breath and flared nostrils. She took another step, more deliberate, and put Jaime in between herself and the man, who glared at them both.

  "What the hell's she on?" he demanded.

  "She's not," Jaime said, forcing calm. "She's just frightened. She didn't know you were there before you touched her."

  "She deaf?" he asked gruffly, tempering his anger enough to let Jaime know he considered this a possibility.

  "No," Jaime answered slowly, "but she's new to a lot of things." She reached out a careful arm to guide Jess toward the imitation shoreline, and the man took the opportunity to scowl away the spectators, most of whom were satisfied to wander off now that the action was over. When all three of them were out, dripping on the asphalt path that circled the pond, Jaime faced the man squarely and took a deep breath.

  "Jess is new to this country," she said, deciding it to be the simplest explanation, as well as her best guess at the truth. "A lot of things are strange to her. She didn't know she was breaking any rules, and she only reacted out of fear when you grabbed her."

  "She had plenty of warning," the man growled. "I'm afraid you'll have to come with me."

  "She didn't hear you," Jaime said desperately. That much was true, she was sure. When Jess was intent on something new, her whole world seemed to focus down on that object, and she'd more than once failed to respond to Jaime's question or call. "You scared her. Of course she resisted—she thought she was being attacked."

  Unmoved, the man said, "She shouldn't have been in the water."

  "She didn't know," Jaime repeated. The determined glint remained in his eye, and she knew Jess was moments away from being saddled with some serious charges. Abruptly she turned to Jess, moved back a step so the young woman was not so much behind her as beside her. "Jess, why did you fight?"

  She raised her head, and a stubborn look appeared in her dark eyes. Her reply was slow, hindered by her search for words. "There is no trust for those who grab with no asking." Her precise meaning was unclear but the gist of the words was clear enough.

  "You didn't hear him call you to come out of the fountain?"

  Jess gave an amused snort. "I am not his. He has no Words for me."

  "You see?" Jaime appealed, trying not to shiver. "She just didn't know you were an authority. She wasn't paying any attention to you—so she didn't know you were comin
g. Wouldn't you act to protect yourself if you were grabbed from behind?"

  The man rubbed a beefy hand across the back of his neck, his expression reluctant. The side of his face was red where Jess' foot had made contact. "Everybody knows this kind of uniform means police authority," he maintained. "I'm not trying to make trouble for you two, but—"

  "Look," Jaime said, swiping at the drop of water that trembled on the end of her nose, "the intent wasn't there. Sure, you can pursue this thing, but what you really want is to prevent it from happening again, right? And you can do that by letting me explain things to her. Or by doing that yourself, if you want—right here."

  He looked down at himself, at the runnels of water that collected at his feet to form a puddle. Then he looked at Jess, who still regarded him with her set-jaw stubbornness. He rested his hands on his bulky equipment belt, his mouth quirked in skeptical indecision. Jaime fervently, silently, hoped that he would back down, for she too had seen the look on Jess' face, and she easily read it for what it was: bullheaded challenge. She would go nowhere with this man, not without a fight.

  When the man spoke again, his voice was more composed. "I'm not one of those guys who'll toss his weight around just because he's got it," he conceded. "Although I'm too damned wet to be letting you off easy. What about it, Jess? You understand to stay out of that fountain? You understand that you've got to pay attention to what security police tell you to do?"

  "No kicking," Jess said reluctantly. "I broke the rule."

  Jaime let out her breath. Somehow, she wasn't quite sure that Jess was agreeing with the man's exact meaning, but it seemed to be the capitulation he was looking for, and she wasn't going to clue him in if he didn't see it for himself. Defiance, that's what lingered in Jess' gaze. Whoever Carey was, he was the only one with unequivocal Words for Jess.

  * * *

  Checking on the groggy lesson horse was anticlimactic compared to the adventure at Mirror Lake. Jaime left her trailer there, made arrangements to pick the horse up in a few days, and drove Jess back to The Dancing.

  The afternoon had opened her eyes to just how unusual her new barn hand was. She was far from amused when she realized that something in her subconscious mind had seen subtleties of equine behavior in Jess' actions for, in the unthinking moments during that debacle with campus security, she'd reacted as if Jess was indeed a horse.

  But there were no conclusions to be drawn, for nothing in this situation remotely resembled the realities in Jaime's life. It was just . . . wait and see. Wait and watch. And while she was willing to give Jess a little more time to find herself and possibly to explain herself, it would be best if she didn't attract undue attention before then.

  There was little Jaime could do about Jess' exotic appearance. A pair of scissors and five minutes trimmed most of the ragged edges from her wild hair, but couldn't hide the naturally dark streak that ran from forehead to nape—though it led to the discovery that there was nothing Jess liked more than a good grooming—or, rather, that she would sit still forever as long as Jaime was brushing her hair. She also discovered that she could hand Jess a set of brushes, point her at a horse, and count on her to groom until the object of her attentions virtually glowed—unless it was one of the two older mares, neither of whom Jess would deal with in any manner.

  Her younger brother, Mark, accepted Jess with the patience of a young man who had already dealt with every manner of horse-crazy girl to grace Jaime's doorstep, and Jess was delighted if he had the time to join her in the spacious backyard for a little one-on-one soccer, which she invariably won by virtue of her speed and agility. It was Mark who kept score; Jess, Jaime noticed, played for the sheer pleasure of the effort. It was Mark, too, who took the woman on careful forays away from the farm—mostly to the busy Dairy Queen that graced the edge of the nearby one-street minitown, and to the quiet bar that boasted of near-infamous hot bologna sandwiches.

  Jess never seemed to fully trust Dayna, and after each of Dayna's visits, with or without Eric, she would follow Jaime around and solicit reassurance. She was standing at Jaime's elbow in the middle of a lesson when it suddenly hit Jaime what the problem was.

  "You still think Dayna might send you away, don't you? Think about those corners, Sandy," she reminded the woman under instruction. "He's falling out behind. Outside leg. Start a serpentine at A—let's see if we can't get him bending a little better."

  The non sequitur didn't seem to bother Jess, whose understanding increased in leaps and bounds. "Yes," she answered. She waved an arm to indicate the world beyond the farm. "All strange. No Carey—no Jaime. Dayna—" and, when words failed her, she stood very straight, scrunched her shoulders slightly, and arranged her features into a hard, implacable expression that immediately drew to Jaime's mind one of Dayna's inflexible moments. She couldn't help but laugh, though she sobered quickly.

  "Dayna's a good person, Jess. It's just sometimes . . . well, how does the thought of facing that strange world out there," she waved her arm in an imitation of Jess' gesture, "make you feel?"

  "Afraid," Jess said without hesitation.

  "Right. Anticipate the change of rein at the center line, Sandy—prepare him! Well, Dayna's had some hard times. When she runs up against something that's really unfamiliar—really strange—it frightens her. And she protects herself. Sometimes that makes it seem like she's uncaring, but deep down she cares very much. And you know—sometimes even caring can be frightening." She let Jess think about it while she watched the team in the ring, frowning over the gelding's unusually crooked position and his refusal to bend around his rider's inside leg. "What's going on with you two? This isn't like you at all."

  "I don't know," Sandy said in frustration as she brought her horse down to a walk. The horse, too, wore an expression of frustration and irritation.

  Without a word, Jess walked into the ring, across the thick footing of well-mixed dirt and sand, and up to the horse, whom Sandy had halted. Jess took the time to greet the horse, gave it a pat, and then carefully but firmly took Sandy's whip out of her hand. "Ride now," she instructed.

  Jaime saw an immediate difference in the animal's attitude. It chewed the bit a few times and gave a thoughtful sigh, by which time its entire body relaxed. She looked at Jess standing with whip in hand and frowned. The gelding had never shown any concern over the whip. Nine times out of ten, the lesson went by without a single flick of the thing. But this time . . .

  "Sandy, is that a new whip?" she asked abruptly, as Sandy started another serpentine with her newly willing horse.

  "The other one was too short," Sandy replied distantly, concentrating on her ride. "You know how I sometimes bumped him in the mouth when I used it."

  Jess was back; she stood next to Jaime and tickled her arm with the small fuzzy tassel at the end of the whip, removed it, and tickled again, just barely touching her skin.

  In a flash Jaime understood. It hadn't been visible to her, this whisper of tassel against horseflesh. "How did you know?" she asked Jess in astonishment.

  Jess seemed equally amazed that Jaime should have to ask. "He shouted it."

  He had, too, Jaime mused, taking the whip from Jess and contemplating the offending tassel. In every way but words, the horse had communicated his dilemma, and Jess had been the only one able to clearly read him, despite Jaime's vast experience. She looked up at Jess who, oblivious, was watching the much happier pair in the ring. It was just another clue to who and what Jess was, and Jaime was beginning to wonder where those clues would lead her.

  * * *

  For a while, they led her no further. In addition, there was no mention of Carey, Jess, or gold from any news source, and Jaime became relaxed in the belief that she and Eric had made the right decision in keeping the gold hidden from Dayna, and in keeping Jess out of a system that might have done her more harm than good. Busy with training and instructing, not to mention the business of preparing her two competition horses for the approaching season, Jaime only wondered about
Jess and her mysteries in the odd moment.

  It was on the tail end of a busy day, two weeks into Jess' stay, that Jaime was forced to realize those mysteries could not be so easily ignored. She'd gotten used to the fact that Jess rarely said more than yes or no, that she was easily startled but that when she chose to trust, she gave her complete and utter confidence. It was only when she found Jess asleep in the hay storage, her head pillowed on Carey's saddlebags and dirty tear-smears dried on her face, that Jaime faced truths she'd still been trying to avoid. Jess didn't belong here. Someone out there was missing her as much as she missed him.

  Jaime worried at those truths as she cut the twine on a fresh bale of hay and counted out the flakes for afternoon snack time. The horses, alerted by the rustling, immediately set up a clamor, each demanding to be fed first. Jess lifted her head and blinked sleepily.

  "I'll get them," Jaime said, trying to erase the confused and uncertain look on Jess' face. "Give yourself a few minutes, and then check the water buckets, okay?" Jess blinked again and looked at her hands, opening and closing them like she'd never seen them before. Then, as Jaime stacked the flakes of hay into a wheelbarrow and looked back at her, Jess nodded. She traced a wistful finger along the top flap of a saddlebag and followed Jaime out of the airy shed behind the barn and through the big double doors at the end of the barn aisle.

  As Jaime stopped to parcel out hay, Jess passed her, then halted, her head raised in what Jaime had come to recognize as the reaction to an out-of-place noise. Without thinking, Jaime stopped what she was doing to listen as well, only belatedly realizing how she had come to trust Jess' reactions. As usual, the trust was well placed, for it was only the space of a breath before a man's voice called out from the entrance of the tack room.