The Mavericks (7 page)

“Josie's got a real problem with men, especially with men telling her what to do. Sometimes it makes her say things she doesn't mean. And even when she does
mean what she says,” Suzette continued when Josie tried to interrupt, “she can't always do it. Hitch up the mules. We'll be ready when you are.”

Disgusted with himself for feeling relieved, Zeke headed off to get the mules, grinning at the lecture Suzette was giving Josie. Suzette was making no attempt to keep her voice down, and Josie made even less. Zeke found himself thinking that being paired off with Josie would be like being penned up with a bobcat. She'd be untamable, and he'd be clawed to death. What was it that caused some men to fall for the one woman who was the worst possible choice for them?

“Come on,” he said to the mules as he pulled up their pickets. “Time for all of us to get to work.” The animals looked healthy and reasonably goodtempered. Someone had known enough to buy a big, strong pair for the difficult journey. The mules were reluctant to stop grazing but didn't balk when he led them to the river. They waded in until they were fetlock-deep and sank their muzzles into the cold, clear water.

“Don't drink too much,” Zeke said, pulling the mules from the river before they'd drunk their fill. “I don't want you to founder.”

When he reached the wagon, Suzette was putting away everything they'd used to fix breakfast. Josie was out of sight. “You two got everything straight?” Zeke asked.

“I wish you'd stop trying to rub Josie the wrong way.” Suzette paused in what she was doing and looked up at Zeke with eyes that showed as much compassion as impatience. “You must know she has a temper.”

“I hadn't noticed,” Zeke said with only mild sarcasm.

Suzette's lips twisted in a grin, but the look in her eyes didn't change. “We're all upset about being driven out of town. It's not pleasant being portrayed as immoral women, especially when the
really
immoral women are still there. They couldn't get rid of the women they wanted to drive out of town—the men wouldn't let them—so they settled for us as substitutes.”

“Are you surprised by that kind of hypocrisy?”

“No, but it doesn't make it any easier to stomach. I imagine you know something about that.”

“A little.”

Zeke backed the mules into position so he could begin harnessing them to the wagon. He didn't want to talk about himself. He'd learned through bitter experience that some things couldn't be changed. You either learned to put up with them, you got out of the way, or you drove yourself crazy trying to fight battles that couldn't be won. He and Hawk had decided to get out of the way.

He fitted the collars around the mules, then threw the harness over their backs.

“Do you need some help?”

Zeke looked up, surprised to see Josie. He stifled his initial impulse to tell her he could handle the job on his own. Considering what she'd said a few minutes ago, this seemed like an attempt to apologize.

“You can hold their heads while I hook everything up,” he said. “They don't seem especially anxious to go to work this morning.”

Zeke took his time. He made sure the harness was in good shape and nothing was loose or worn, that the
collars were riding properly on the mules' shoulders and not rubbing any places raw. Despite his deliberate slowness, it seemed Josie wasn't going to say anything. He picked up the reins and tied them to the brake. “Is everybody ready?”

“I'll see.”

Josie left without a backward glance. What was wrong with this woman? Did she think apologizing would show a fatal weakness?

Josie returned moments later. “I don't see Suzette.”

“She offered to help Hawk with the horses. She's riding my horse since I'll be driving the wagon.”

It was clear from Josie's expression that Suzette hadn't told her of this change in plans. It was equally clear that she didn't like it.

“You might as well get it off your chest,” Zeke said. “You look like you're about to bust.”

Much to his surprise, his words appeared to defuse her anger. “I thought you were staying with us so Hawk could take care of Laurie.”

“We are, but Hawk's better with horses and I'm better with wagons. We're depending on you to keep an eye on Laurie and let us know if she starts getting worse.”

“Suzette knows more about nursing than I do.”

“She also knows more about horses, and Hawk could use some help. Anything else you need to know before we can get started?”

Zeke only realized how rude he sounded when surprise flashed across Josie's face before being replaced by anger.

“I didn't mean that the way it sounded,” Zeke said.
“I guess Suzette should have told you she was riding with Hawk.”

“It's okay,” Josie said, making an obvious effort to rein in her temper. But even after she'd schooled her expression into a rigid smile, her eyes remained stormy.

“You need a hand up?” Zeke asked.

“No. I can do it myself.”

He didn't argue. Once she was in, he closed up the back, went around, climbed into the driver's seat, and untied the reins. “Ready?” he called out.

“Ready.”

“Giddyaup!” Zeke called as he snapped the reins. The mules leaned into their collars, and the wagon bumped and lurched as it began the day's journey.

Hawk wasn't used to being around attractive women. He was even less used to being alone with one for the better part of a day. Being forced to watch Suzette in the saddle ahead of him had caused him to feel completely off balance all morning. Not to mention being so worked up, he was uncomfortable. He'd hoped that growing older would make his monklike existence easier. Apparently all he needed was a woman like Suzette to stoke the coals until they were red hot once more.

Since horses could travel over rough terrain more easily than a wagon, he hadn't pushed the mares. Yet even at their leisurely pace, they'd outstripped Zeke and the wagon. Much to his surprise, Suzette had been very good at finding the best path for the horses to follow. Only once had they had to backtrack.

“Hold up,” he called to Suzette. “Pull over to that
cottonwood,” he told her when she stopped and turned in the saddle toward him. “It's time to let the wagon catch up.”

Once Hawk staked Dusky Lady, the mares started to graze. Suzette had already dismounted by the time he reached the shade of the ancient cottonwood. Its trunk was about five feet in diameter, its branches reaching more than fifty feet to the river's edge. He judged it to be at least two hundred years old. It was incredible that the tree had managed to survive so many years of flash floods capable of carrying large boulders downstream. He brought his horse to a stop under the tree, grateful to be out of the glare of the intense Arizona sun.

His aroused condition made him so self-conscious, he was undecided whether to stay in the saddle or dismount. He realized it was ridiculous to consider staying in the saddle. His horse needed the break even if he didn't. Suzette must have seen a lot of lovesick men, but being on a stage in a crowded saloon was very different from being alone with one in the middle of the desert. It made things much more personal. Accepting the inevitable, Hawk slid from the saddle. He untied the canteen from his saddle, uncapped it, and held it out to her.

“You thirsty?” he asked.

“Isn't the river water safe to drink?”

“Yes, but I boiled some water last night. It's always better to be on the safe side.”

It was difficult to interpret the look in her eyes. His gut instinct told him she was just as attracted to him as he was to her, but he didn't trust his own inflamed emotions. She could merely be surprised at his generosity
or his being so careful. She could be thankful he considered her safety as important as his own. It could simply be the way she looked at everybody. They'd known each other for less than a day. Why should she feel any different about him than she would any other stranger?

And what accounted for his attraction to her? Was it that faint accent that sounded intriguingly foreign, the hair so blond it looked silver in the moonlight, or those eyes so blue they reminded him of the Texas sky on a spring day? Such a woman ought to be the creation of some artist, his version of the perfect woman, captured on a canvas and hung in a museum for everyone to admire. But Suzette was flesh and blood, warm and smiling, and she was here—alone with him.

His mind went blank.

He watched, fascinated, as she raised the canteen, opened her mouth, and lifted it to her lips. He could feel the breath catch in his throat when her lips closed around the mouth of the canteen. They were so warm, so full, so moist, he could practically feel them on his own mouth. He took a deep breath, moistened his lips with his tongue. He watched the motion of her throat as she swallowed, entranced by the delicate movement of muscles beneath the pale, flawless skin. A drop of water escaped at the corner of her mouth. Mesmerized, Hawk watched it run down her chin, hang there for a moment before running down her neck and onto the top of her breast.

“Thank you.”

Hawk's body jerked slightly as he came out of his dream state. Suzette held the canteen out to him as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then ran
her fingers over the top of her breast in search of the errant drop of water. Hawk felt a burning desire so intense he had to turn and focus his attention on the distant horizon to keep from taking her in his arms. “I need to check the horses' hooves to make sure they haven't picked up any stones.”

“I can help.”

“Stay here. No reason for both of us to get a heat stroke.”

He headed toward the nearest horse without waiting for her to respond. He practically walked into a creosote bush before he could get his mind to focus. He had to start paying attention. If he blundered into a cholla cactus, the thorns could give him a serious infection.

The mare, a sorrel, didn't object when he lifted her foot. He forced himself to examine the hoof rim for wear, the hoof walls for gouges, the frog for possible bruises. He even felt the muscles in her legs to make sure they weren't overheated. By the time he'd finished with the third mare, the pressure in his body had eased enough for him to take a deep breath. He didn't know what he was going to do if they didn't reach Laurie's home tonight. He wasn't sure he could stand another day of this. Hell, he hadn't even survived the morning yet.

The sun beat down on his back as he bent to check the hooves of the next mare, a dun with a black mane and tail. She preferred to be left alone while she searched for graze.

“I'll hold her head.”

Hawk decided he was getting old when Suzette
could walk up behind him without his noticing. “She's a bit cantankerous. This is her first foal.”

“I'd be nervous, too, if I was having my first child.”

Hawk busied himself with the mare's feet. He didn't want to think about Suzette having a baby.

“Have you found a stone?” Suzette asked.

“No. You've done a good job finding easy trails this morning.”

“It wasn't hard. I just followed the ones the wild animals have already made.”

“They're not always easy to see. You have a good eye.”

He wondered how she could have grown so comfortable with travel in the desert. Her background—growing up privileged, then working in a saloon—wasn't exactly the best training ground for survival in the wild. He moved to the next mare, an Appaloosa. She was as sweet-tempered as she was beautiful. Suzette patted her neck while he checked her hooves.

“Why are you trying to avoid me?”

The question caught Hawk by surprise. He held the mare's right front hoof without seeing it. It was a difficult decision: lie and have her know he was lying, or tell the truth and make her aware of the effect she was having on him. He released the mare's leg and stood. “Because being alone with you is driving me crazy. It's causing me to . . . well . . .”

It shocked Hawk to see a slow smile curve Suzette's lips. He'd expected her to be embarrassed at the least, to launch into a noisy tirade at the worst.

“What makes you think you're the only one who can
feel a strong physical attraction? I'm sure there have been lots of women who didn't hesitate to let you know you're a very handsome man.”

Hawk was glad he had his hand on the Appaloosa's withers. Suzette's words had rocked him so badly he needed the solidness of the mare's body to steady himself. He'd never met a woman who was so willing to speak of her physical desires for a man or who appeared so unembarrassed by them.

“Don't look so stunned,” Suzette said. “I've been married. It wasn't a good marriage, but it was good enough to teach me that men and women can take great pleasure in their physical relationship. My husband has been dead for five years, but I haven't forgotten what it was like to sleep with a man.”

Try as he might, Hawk couldn't find his tongue. Nor could he form a coherent thought.

“I didn't want to offend you,” he finally managed to say. “Besides, I'm sure that on some occasions you've had reason to be afraid of a man who—”

“Yes, but I'm not afraid of you.”

She continued to pat the mare's neck, but when the mare moved away to look for more grass, they were left standing alone facing each other. Hawk didn't know what she meant by her statement. More important, he didn't know what she wanted him to do about it—
if
she wanted him to do anything about it. She couldn't mean what was running through his mind—not when Zeke could show up with the wagon at any minute—but what
did
she mean? It was obvious from the way she was looking at him, steady, her gaze open and trusting, that she meant
something.

“Which mare do you want to check next?” Suzette asked.