The Mavericks (14 page)

This was the first Zeke had heard about Suzette having a sister, but he had no doubt that Suzette would be just as anxious as Josie to talk with Gardner. If he really was part owner of the Birdcage—and Zeke had no reason to doubt him—meeting him on the trail was an incredible stroke of good fortune, but Zeke was worried just the same. Men like Gardner never gave something without expecting even more in return.

“I've got my own supplies,” Gardner said.

“That's not a problem.” Zeke was aware that his voice showed no enthusiasm. “We have more than enough.”

“I'm glad I ran into you. I wasn't looking forward to making this journey alone.”

“Weren't you planning to spend the night at various ranches along the way?” Zeke asked. “You must know all the owners.” Ranchers always stuck together to protect themselves against rustlers. The threat from the Apaches was gone, but there were more than enough renegade Indians, Mexican bandits, and American
outlaws and freebooters willing to take up where Geronimo's braves had left off.

“I enjoy sleeping out. It reminds me of going on cattle drives when I was a boy.” Gardner shaded his eyes and looked at the sun, which was sinking over the Santa Catalina Mountains to the southwest. “When do you think you'll be making camp?”

“My partner is probably doing that right now,” Zeke admitted reluctantly. “We're taking a few mares to our ranch. We like to give them time to graze before it gets dark.”

“You're a rancher? I've never heard of you.”

He hadn't heard because he hadn't had the courtesy to ask Zeke's name. Zeke would have taken offense at Gardner's surprise if he hadn't become inured to white men thinking it impossible that a black man could earn enough money to buy a ranch.

“We have a small ranch on the Babocamari River just outside of Fairbank.”

“I didn't catch your name,” Gardner said.

“It's Zeke Maxwell. My partner is my brother. His name's Hawk.”

“I look forward to meeting him, and your partner,” Gardner said to Josie.

The trail passed through a spot where the cactus grew so close that Gardner had to drop back. Even the mules moved a bit closer together. Zeke could hear the spines of the cholla scratch their way along the canvas wagon cover as it passed. He hoped they didn't cause any rips.

“Why don't you want Mr. Gardner to camp with us?” Josie asked.

“I never said I didn't want him to come along.”

“You didn't have to. One look, and it was obvious you wanted to hit him. Do you dislike every man except Hawk, or are you afraid you can't measure up because you're black?”

Zeke turned away from Josie to stare at the trail ahead. Her question reached down deep into the core of him, to a place where even Hawk was seldom allowed to go.

He'd spent the first fourteen years of his life as a slave, ripped from his mother and sold to a woman who beat him, starved him, berated him, told him he was stupid and not worth the hundred dollars she'd paid for him. His home had been her attic, his bed the bare floorboards, his food the scraps from her table. His work had been whatever menial chore she assigned him, his reward constant complaints that he couldn't do even the simplest job right. She had threatened to shoot him, sell him, give him to the Indians. In the end she'd sold him to some farmers who'd nearly killed him with overwork. It wasn't until Jake and Isabelle adopted him that people stopped treating him as the lowest form of life.

Years later he finally realized he'd survived those first fourteen years only because he hated that woman for making him feel unworthy. He'd fought his adopted family at first because he didn't believe anyone could like him. He'd gravitated to Hawk because the two of them were the only nonwhite kids among the eleven orphans Jake and Isabelle had adopted, not because he thought Hawk liked or trusted him any more than he liked or trusted Hawk. He'd only begun to change when he realized that regardless of the stupid or mean things he did, Jake and Isabelle weren't going to throw him out. He found that hard to believe, but it was even harder to believe they wanted him to stay because they loved him.

He'd only begun to believe it might be possible, to
hope
it was possible, when he and Hawk had come home after being away for nearly a year and Isabelle had greeted him by throwing her arms around him. Her tears had practically soaked the front of his shirt. Then, after making sure both he and Hawk were healthy and unharmed, she'd given them a first-class dressing down for being gone so long without writing. She'd ended up saying that if they ever did that again, she'd come after them herself. She'd then punched each of them in the chest before breaking into tears and telling them to get out of her sight until dinner was ready. Naturally she'd fixed their favorite foods.

He'd been so caught up in his thoughts, he hadn't realized the mules had slowed down to sample the leaves of a stand of young willows. A sharp crack of a whip over their heads got them started again.

But while he'd finally come to believe that Jake and Isabelle thought he was just as good as any other human
who'd ever been born, the rest of the world hadn't agreed. He and Hawk had been hired by some of the most important people and some of the biggest businesses in the Southwest. Most men he'd worked with respected his judgment and character, but as soon as he and Hawk finished their work, they wanted them out of sight. Preferably, out of town. He told himself he was as good as anybody else. He believed it when Isabelle treated him exactly as she treated her other sons, but did he believe it when the rest of the world didn't? He turned to Josie.

“I'm not afraid to measure myself against any man in the world. Somebody will prove to be better than I am at everything I can do, but that doesn't make me less of a man. Do you feel like you're less respectable because your mother was a slave?” They had avoided the issue of the color of their skin, but now they were in it up to their knees. Josie acted as if he'd stuck her with a pin.

Unfortunately, the trail had widened and Gardner pulled even with them again. “I hate these damned cactuses,” he said. “I had a man who nearly lost a finger before my mother could get the thorn out.”

It was all Zeke could do to keep from telling Gardner to get back behind the wagon. By the time he managed to control his anger enough to be sure he wouldn't say anything stupid, he realized it was probably better that he and Josie had been interrupted. They'd never been able to have a discussion without it turning into an argument. But the issue Josie had brought up went way beyond any differences between them. It reached all the way down to a level where they
were the same, a place he was sure Josie didn't want to go any more than he did.

“We always try to camp next to the river,” Zeke told Gardner. “That gives us easy access to water, and means we aren't as likely to wake up with thorns in our behinds.”

Gardner's gaze moved past him to Josie. “It would be a great shame to ruin such perfection.” Zeke wondered if the man was taught to talk like that or if it came naturally. “You don't have to worry about me,” Josie said to Gardner. “I sleep in the wagon.”

“And I sleep next to it,” Zeke added. “But I don't sleep very well. The slightest noise tends to wake me up.”

Gardner flashed another one of those smiles Zeke wanted to knock off his face. “What a coincidence. I don't sleep well, either. I often have to get up and move around for a while before I can fall back to sleep.”

“Then you'd better be careful,” Zeke said. “I'd hate for my brother to shoot you, thinking you were out to steal our horses.”

“Hawk's an odd name for a black man.”

“He's not black. His mother was a white woman. His father was a mean-tempered Comanche.” “Then he's not really your brother.” “We were adopted along with a bunch of white boys. I've got
lots
of brothers.”

It pleased Zeke to see Gardner's confusion. He was certain the man was trying to come up with a reason why any white couple would adopt a black kid and a
half-breed. Before Gardner could ask any questions, Suzette appeared on the trail ahead of them. If she was surprised at seeing Gardner, she didn't show it.

“Hawk has made camp,” she called out to them. “It's just a short way ahead.”

It had been a long time since Josie had endured a more uncomfortable meal, and it was all Zeke's fault. She didn't know why he had to try to act like her bodyguard. It wasn't as if she was in any danger from Gardner. The man was so rich he probably thought he was entitled to anything he wanted, but Josie was fully capable of explaining, if necessary, that he wasn't entitled to her. And to be fair to him, the worst thing he'd done was act as if he should be the center of attention. He hadn't stopped talking since they'd made camp. And asking questions.

“Are you sure you don't want anything else to eat?” Suzette asked Gardner. “If we don't eat it now, we'll have it for breakfast.”

“I couldn't eat another bite.” Gardner stood and stretched his legs. “I need to settle my dinner before I bed down for the night. If you have no objection,” he said, turning to Hawk, “I'll go with you to check on the horses.”

“Sure,” Hawk said with a decided lack of enthusiasm.

Hawk had started out the day in jeans and a check shirt, but sometime after stopping for the night he'd found time to change into buckskins and exchange his boots for moccasins. The feather was back on his head, too. Josie didn't understand the significance of the change, but she'd noticed two sharply whispered exchanges between Hawk and Zeke.

“Zeke tells me you have a mare with Morgan blood,” Gardner said to Hawk. “I've been looking for a mare like that myself. If I like her, would you consider selling her?”

Hawk handed his bowl to Suzette. “None of our horses are for sale. Come on if you're coming.”

“I can pay top price,” Gardner said as he followed Hawk out of camp.

“We don't need your money.” Josie barely caught Hawk's reply before he and Gardner were swallowed up by the night.

“I don't trust that man,” Zeke said.

“You don't have to trust him,” Josie said, impatient with Zeke's dislike of Gardner. “He's not offering you a job.”

“You don't know that he has any jobs to offer.”

Zeke gathered up the bowls. Josie wondered if he'd leave Gardner's, but he finally picked it up.

“If he can't give us the jobs he promised, we'll find someone who can. Now if you want me to help you clean up, let's go.”

“I don't understand it,” Zeke said, disgusted, as he followed Josie toward the river. “A man just has to be rich and good-looking and women believe everything he says.”

“We like them tall with broad shoulders.” Josie knew she shouldn't intentionally annoy Zeke, but his dislike of Gardner was getting on her nerves. “It's even better when they're single.” She glanced back at Zeke. “Everybody knows that single men never lie to women.” She nearly laughed aloud at his outraged expression.

“I know what I'm talking about. I've seen too many men like Gardner,” he said.

“I've probably seen more men than you'll see in your lifetime.” Josie reached the edge of the river and squatted down to rub sand in her bowl and the pot they'd used to cook the stew. “There's nothing you can tell me about men I don't already know.”

“You've only seen them from the stage or in a protected situation,” Zeke said as he knelt down beside her. “I've ridden with them in cattle drives, worked with them on nearly every kind of job a man can do, worked
for
them when they thought they were too good to do the work themselves. I know what they're
really
like, not what they want you to think when they've had a bath and changed their clothes.”

“Are you going to clean those bowls, or are you going to keep trying to convince me that Gardner is too dangerous to talk to?”

Zeke tossed a handful of wet sand in each of three bowls. “Dammit, Josie, I don't care if you sit up all night talking to Gardner. I just don't want you to trust him.”

“I trust you.”

“No, you don't.” Zeke looked across the river to where stars were beginning to show in the sky above the Galiuro Mountains. “You wouldn't be here if Suzette hadn't twisted your arm.”

Josie didn't know whether Zeke's feelings had been hurt by her reluctance or whether he was jealous. “Look, I don't understand why you're so upset about Gardner, but it's not like I'm running off with him. It's not even a question of whether I like him. The man has said he can give me a job.”

“I know, but—”

“If he can give me a job, fine. If he can't, that's fine,
too. Any relationship between us will be strictly a business arrangement.”

“For men like Gardner, there's no such thing as a
strictly business arrangement
when it comes to women. He'll expect you to be properly appreciative.”

Josie rose to her feet with an irritated grunt and walked to the edge of the river to wash the sand out of the pot. “I've always wondered what it would be like to have a protective older brother. Now I know.”

She knew from the silence behind her that she'd said something wrong. She turned to see Zeke staring at her with the saddest eyes she'd ever seen. Much to her surprise, her irritation faded. She didn't mean to argue with him all the time. She didn't like to keep pushing him away so that he thought she hated him. He was bossy and had a touchy temper, but she was no angel herself. He and Hawk had changed their plans to make sure she and Suzette reached Tombstone safely. Unlike nearly every other man she knew, he expected to help with the cooking and the cleaning up. He was really a rather nice man. She wouldn't mind having him around if he didn't upset her so much.