Authors: Leigh Greenwood
“Where's the rest of your family?”
“Back in Texas.”
“Why aren't you back there with them?”
That was something Hawk didn't mean to share with a stranger. He unwound the picket rope from his waist and headed to where Dusky Lady was grazing. She barely lifted her head for him to loop the rope around her neck before going back to cropping the sparse grass that grew in tufts among the cactus and under the outstretched branches of the mesquite and cottonwoods. He played out the rope and tied it to a stake he'd pounded into the ground with a rock. Satisfied that Dusky Lady wouldn't pull it up during the night, he turned his gaze to Suzette, who had wandered farther in her search for flowers. She had a handful now, some paintbrush, what looked like a lily or a poppy, and more yellow flowers.
“Last year we found a ranch we liked when we were running cows up from Mexico,” Hawk continued, “so we bought it. It's a little run-down, but getting it cheap allowed us to put more money into buying quality horses.”
She didn't have to know that he and Zeke had saved quite a bit of money over the years, or that Jake had tried to buy the ranch and the horses for them.
“You married?” Suzette asked.
“No.”
“Zeke?”
“Him, neither.”
“A man rich enough to own a ranch is rich enough to have a wife.”
That statement irritated Hawk, but she didn't seem to attach any importance to it. She had paused on the shady side of a mesquite bush and appeared to be searching some vines for fruit, possibly grapes. She moved the leaves aside with a gentleness that was startling in such a harsh land. She was more likely to find a bird's nest than anything edible.
“Best not to linger in shady places during the day,” Hawk said. “Could be a snake has curled up there out of the sun.”
She jumped back so abruptly, she dropped some of her flowers. Feeling guilty, Hawk walked over, picked them up, and handed them to her. “I didn't mean to frighten you,” he said. “Most snakes out here aren't poisonous.”
“One of the boys who used to come to the saloon died of a rattlesnake bite,” she said, her eyes still wide and unsettled. “He looked awful when they brought him in. His leg was black and swollen so bad the skin had cracked.” She shuddered. “He was so nice and sweet, the girls used to argue over who would get to dance with him or sit with him while he drank his beer. It's a shame that snake didn't bite one of the other men.”
Whether a woman served food, brought drinks, danced, or kept men company at the tables, working in a saloon was a rough life because they served rough men. Many men were engaged in a life-and-death struggle with Mother Nature to wrest her riches from the earthâas well as a life-and-death struggle with
other men to keep what they found. They worked hard, played hard, and often died hard. They had little use for women other than as company when they drank or as a release for their sexual energy.
“Why haven't you married again?” Hawk asked. “As pretty as you are, I'm sure you've had more than one chance.”
When Suzette's gaze met his, he saw none of the softness he'd seen in her eyes when she'd wandered among the horses or searched for flowers. Her eyes were bright, even hard, and her gaze steady. He could almost believe she was squaring up to face an adversary.
“None of the men who were interested in me showed any desire to provide for a family. Nor were they swayed by any moral obligation to be a good provider. Out of necessity I learned I could do better on my own.”
Her gaze held his; the challenge remained. If she was waiting for him to argue with her, she'd be disappointed. He didn't want a wife any more than she wanted a husband.
She heaved a sigh and turned to him. “I ought to be getting back. Josie is liable to come looking for me soon.”
“Why?”
Her lips twisted in a faint smile, and she held her hair away from her face with her right hand. “Josie doesn't trust men. She'll probably figure the only reason I've stayed away from camp this long is because you forced me.”
“I didn't ask you to follow me.”
“That wouldn't make any difference to her.”
“That's stupid.”
Suzette's expression turned hard. “Not if you knew what happened to Josie.” She walked past him before turning back. “You're invited to eat with us,” she said. A lazy smile played across her lips, but her eyes were full of caution. “We could never have fixed that wheel on our own.”
“Someone would have come by sooner or later.”
“Maybe, but I'm glad it was you.”
She turned and walked away without giving any indication what she might have meant by those last words. She probably referred to the horses. That she preferred them over him seemed obvious, but there was something else in her manner that Hawk couldn't identify. He had no trouble identifying what it was about her that attracted him: everything, even the view of her as she walked away. Her stride was long and fluid, swinging easily from the hips in a manner that caused them to sway gently from side to side. He was acutely aware of the body hidden beneath the layers of material. Telling himself he should turn away, he continued to watch until she disappeared around a willow thicket. For several moments he continued to stare, his mind filled with images of her wandering among the horses, pressing yellow flowers against her cheek, her hand pulling her hair away from her face.
An uncomfortable tightness in his jeans brought him back to the present. He cursed as he rearranged himself. It was useless to let his physical attraction for Suzette get to him. Even if there had been an opportunity to act on it, she'd made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him. Wishing for anything else would be stupid beyond belief.
“That was a mighty good supper,” Zeke said to Anna. “There's a lot to be said for traveling with a wagonload of supplies.”
“Those supplies wouldn't have done us much good if you hadn't come along to fix the wheel,” Anna said.
“And cut up the wagon in the process,” Josie added.
“It was only one rib,” Anna said. “You can hardly notice it's gone.”
“I noticed,” Josie snapped.
Zeke had found the perfect wood for his linchpin in one of the ribs that supported the canvas cover of the wagon. Josie had been furious when he removed the rib despite her objections. She hadn't been any more pleased when he said all the linchpins needed to be replaced. The rib had provided him with enough wood for spares, but Josie hadn't been mollified.
Zeke and Hawk sat crossed-legged in the sand about twenty feet back from the fire. Suzette sat with her feet under her, a position that made Zeke uncomfortable just looking at her. Anna sat with her feet out to the side, Laurie, leaning up on her elbow. Josie had been too agitated to sit and had eaten her meal standing up. Even now, her stew lay unfinished in her bowl, as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, occasionally moving a few feet before pausing again. Zeke felt certain she was itching to tell them they'd been amply repaid for their courtesy and it was time to leave. He felt the same way, but watching her practically bite her tongue to keep from telling them to vanish made him want to stay just to see if she'd put her thoughts into words.
“You ought to stay on flat ground as much as possible,”
Zeke said. “Losing a linchpin isn't a big problem. Breaking a spoke or a wheel would be.”
“We tried,” Anna said, “but sometimes the only way was to use the riverbed.”
Zeke knew that. He and Hawk used riverbeds as often as they could. Despite being littered with rocks, they were usually more level than existing trails and offered a more direct route. In addition, the water would cover their tracks when they didn't want to be followed.
“You shouldn't be out here by yourselves,” Zeke said. “Why didn't you hire a man to drive you?”
“Anna is perfectly capable of driving,” Josie said.
“I was thinking more of protection.”
“I know how to use a rifle.”
“Nevertheless, it's not a good idea for women to travel alone in this territory. There are too many things that could happen to you.”
“Like losing a wheel.”
Zeke couldn't understand Josie's belligerence. He could see no reason for her to argue with everything he said. He was just trying to help her stay out of trouble. And a woman as beautiful as Josie was bound to run into difficulty. If her temper didn't cause it, her beauty would. She was the kind of woman men couldn't stay away from even when they knew being close to her was dangerous.
“Somebody would have come along, or we'd have figured it out,” Josie said.
Hell, he wasn't going to argue with a woman who refused to listen to reason. He'd be better advised to talk to his horses. At least they acted like he knew what he was talking about.
“What are you doing out here in the first place? I'd have thought there was plenty of work in Globe.”
“There was until the fine ladies of the town decided dancing girls were a danger to their husbands' morals.” Josie's snort of indignation was loud and rude. “Even a cracked mirror should have told the wives their
appearance
was the greatest obstacle to marital fidelity.”
“Don't tell me they tried to close down the saloons.” Zeke had heard of women trying but not of any succeeding.
“They realized men have to eat and drink,” Suzette explained. “They just didn't think the customers needed to be entertained at the same time.”
“We didn't do anything but sing and dance,” Anna said, “but they didn't believe us.”
“They needed somebody to blame,” Josie said, “so they picked us.”
“They picked
you
.” Laurie's voice was too weak to convey any of the anger or animosity she might have felt.
Apparently, the conversation had stirred up Josie's resentment at her treatment. She talked with her hands, flinging the last bits of her stew into the air with one particularly angry gesture. Some pieces landed in the fire and sizzled noisily before bursting into tiny flames and leaving the unpleasant smell of burned meat.
“Forget about it,” Suzette said with a shrug. “We got our money, and we'll be able to find jobs in Tombstone. I don't like to stay in one town too long, anyway. The men get used to your act and start to want something else from you.”
“Do you want some more stew?” Anna asked. “There's still a little bit left.”
Zeke and Hawk both got up and took their bowls over for the remainder. Zeke didn't like to eat until he was uncomfortably full, but he couldn't see any reason to waste good food.
“Whoever saw a man who didn't want more to eat?” Josie asked with a sharpness that would take the edge off any man's appetite. “Why don't you just give them the pot and let them finish what's left?”
“Isabelle says a gentleman never eats out of the pot,” Zeke said, his irritation at Josie's jibes beginning to get to him. “Hawk and I eat out of bowls even when we're on the trail by ourselves. Just because we're camping outdoors doesn't mean we don't know how to act.” Zeke handed his bowl to Anna, then turned to Josie, waiting for her reply. She glared at him, shrugging her shoulders in a manner that suggested she didn't believe a word Zeke said.
“I met a man once who had lovely manners,” Laurie said. “He said he was the son of an earl.”
“And you believed that?” Josie asked.
“Hawk and I took some blooded bulls up to Monty Randolph's ranch in Wyoming a few years ago,” Zeke said before Laurie could reply. “He had an earl and a couple of younger sons of a Scottish duke staying with him. They wanted Monty's advice on buying a ranch in Montana.”
Zeke doubted that Josie knew of Monty Randolph or the reputation of the Randolph family, but she didn't challenge his statement.
“I think as many men know good manners as
women,” Anna said. “It just seems men can do without them easier.”
“If you spent a winter in a mining camp or on some cattle drive, you'd understand,” Zeke said.
Zeke decided the conversation was getting too heavy, the tension in the air too strained. He ate the rest of his stew standing up. “Thanks for the food and the coffee,” he said. “If you don't mind, Hawk and I will say good night. We plan to head out at daybreak, so we'll try not to wake you.”
“We're heading out at the same time,” Suzette told him. “We want to get to Tombstone as soon as we can.”
“Just keep the river in sight and you can't miss it.”
“Suzette said you have a ranch only a few miles from Tombstone,” Anna said. “Since we're all going practically to the same place, why don't we go together?”
Four women started to speak at the same time, but Josie's voice rose above the others'. She moved so close to the fire, Zeke could see its flames reflected in her eyes. “We don't need anybody to protect us,” she said.
“I'm sure they'll want to travel as fast as possible,” Suzette said. “It'll be better if the mares reach the ranch before they start dropping their foals.”
Zeke turned to Anna. “Thanks for the invitation, but Josie and Suzette are right. You don't need us to protect you, and we do need to get to the ranch as soon as we can.”
Anna frowned, clearly unhappy with Josie. “Something could happen to the wagon.”
“If you have to, you can ride your mules,” Zeke said.
“I don't ride mules,” Josie declared.
It was on the tip of Zeke's tongue to ask what made her so uppity, but he figured he already knew. Any
woman who looked like Josie got pretty much what she wanted. It must have really put her nose out of joint to be driven out of town by a bunch of dowdy housewives, but it was no use taking her anger out on Hawk and him. If she had turned it on the women who'd attacked her, she might still have a job.