Love, Like Water (17 page)

“Huh,” Jesse said. “I hope I never have to go through that.”

Eli regarded Jesse’s sweet, untroubled face. “Kinda doubt you will, son. Your ma’ll kick anybody’s ass who tries to mess with you.”

“Yeah, she’s little, but she’s fierce.” Jesse grinned. “Well, I better get upstairs and finish my English homework, or my fierce little ma will be kicking
my
ass. ’Night, Eli.”

“’Night, son.”

The night went quiet. Eli rocked back and forth on the chair’s back legs, thinking about the ranch, and Josh, and tomorrow’s work, and Josh. After a while the light went on in Joshua’s room, then out again, and with a sigh, Eli hoisted himself from the chair and meandered across the yard to his own house and his own bed.

Chapter 15

E
LI
wasn’t sure if Joshua would be up to the long ride he’d had planned, after the trauma of the visit to the shrink, but he seemed okay in the morning eating breakfast. Eli greeted him and the others casually, then, when he’d settled down and had eaten a bit, he turned to Tucker and said, “I figured on taking Josh out to the canyon today. Show him some of the property lines.”

“That’s a haul,” Tuck said. “Better get an early start, then. Forecast’s for the low 80’s—there’ll be a bit of cloud cover this afternoon, but not much. Have Sara pack you lunch and I’ll have Josh done in the office by about nine.”

“How far is this place?” Joshua asked curiously.

“Oh, a few hours’ ride toward the mountains. We’ll follow Las Lunas Creek—that’s the main branch that feeds our three creeks—up to the Galiano so we’ll have some shade and easy water for the mounts a good part of the way. It’ll give you a feel for the size of the ranch and what kind of terrain we’re dealing with.”

“Manny and I are heading up that way too,” Billy said, “to check on the stock in the canyon. We’ll ride up with you, but we’ll be a while—you’ll wanna head home hours before we’re done.”

“Stock?” Joshua echoed.

“Yeah, we have a small herd of mustangs we keep in the canyon. They’re mares from the last roundup that had foals. The canyon’s big enough for them to spread out, but the entrance is gated and the rest of the canyon’s too sheer for them to climb so we don’t have to go hunting for them all over tarnation when we’re ready to bring them in, and they’re generally safer there with the babies than if they were trying to survive on the range. Better feed, more water, generally protected.” Billy poured himself another cup of coffee. “We go up and check on them every week or so, make sure that they haven’t gotten themselves into trouble, that they’re still healthy, and that nothing like cougars or coyotes have moved into the neighborhood.”

“Fine,” Eli said. “We’ll be ready to head out about nine. Josh, you still good with Avery?”

“Yeah.”

“Avery?” Manny snorted. “Horse is a slug.”

“He’s good enough,” Tucker said absently. “Just lazy. Josh’ll push him, right Josh?”

“Whatever you say, Uncle Tucker.”

Eli looked over at Joshua. He was nervous, Eli thought, and wondered why. Then Josh got up and followed Tucker into the office, and Eli finished his breakfast and went out to the barns.

I
T
WAS
a good thing he’d been spending more time in the saddle lately, because Joshua was ready for a break by the time they reached the high ground where the canyon was located. It took a good two hours of steady riding to get there—not fast, but steady. Joshua suspected that the others would have gotten there a lot quicker without him, but they didn’t seem to mind; both of the men took the opportunity at one point or another during the ride to come up beside Joshua and engage him in conversation. Billy had worked on any number of ranches since running away from home at fifteen, and had dozens of funny stories about his experiences. Manny was a native Albuquerquean and was fascinated by the differences in his Mexican-based Spanish and Joshua’s Puerto Rican-based. Between the two of them, they made the trip go by a lot quicker for Joshua.

The ground along Rio Galiano had been growing rougher over the last mile or so, and eventually they had to abandon even the minimal shade for open desert and the trail climbing up into the foothills. “It looks like a movie set,” Joshua said as they rode past an outcropping of huge boulders. “I half expect a gang of cattle rustlers in black masks to ride around the bend.”

“They drive trucks nowadays, and black masks aren’t fashionable anymore,” Eli said soberly, then shot Joshua a quick grin. “’Sides, this is too far out for rustlers—no cattle, and the mustangs ain’t worth snot ’til they’re tamed down some. And no roads. Rustlers steal ’cause they’re lazy. Too much work to get these.”

Joshua nodded.

They rode on deeper into the rocky terrain, until they came up on a narrow defile between high rock walls, narrow enough that they had to ride single-file through the passage. The rocks loomed dangerously overhead and Joshua looked up to study them thoughtfully.

Billy said over his shoulder, “Apache used to lure the Army down here and throw stones on their heads to kill ’em. Nice place for a massacre.”

“Whereas the Army used to just ride into Indian villages and bring candy and bunnies for the kiddies,” Manny said dryly.

“Hey, I ain’t defending the Army! I allus admired Geronimo. And I grew up around Fort Sumner, so I know about that too. Just saying that’s what they did here.”

They squabbled good-naturedly for a few minutes, then the defile took a jog and broadened out just wide enough for two horses. Across the way was a heavy steel gate with a built-in lock, blocking the trail. Beyond, Joshua could see the trail jogging again and disappearing behind more rocks.

Billy unlocked the gate and opened it for them to ride through, then closed it again. Joshua heard the snick of the lock as it re-engaged automatically. “Valley’s just beyond here,” he told Joshua.

“Can’t the mustangs just jump over the gate?” Joshua asked. “It’s not that high.” It wasn’t, either—maybe five feet, no higher than a privacy fence back home.

“Could if they had enough room to get to a running start, but the trail doglegs,” Billy pointed out. “Can’t jump that high from a standing start.”

Joshua nodded and followed the rest of them down through the rocks again.

A
FTER
another fifteen minutes or so, they came out onto a ledge looking out over a tiny pocket valley. Joshua sucked in his breath. Across the way a waterfall plunged thirty or so feet into a clear little lagoon surrounded by grass and fringed with trees—not just the ubiquitous cottonwoods, but oak and ash and rowan. It was more green than Joshua had seen since coming out West. “Holy shit,” Joshua breathed.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Eli said in satisfaction.

“Where are the horses?”

“Probably up that way,” Manny said, gesturing to the east, where the stream that fell in the waterfall flowed out of the little lake and disappeared past the trees. “There’s a meadow beyond there—they’re usually there, where they can see what’s coming. That’s where Billy and I are headed. After lunch, of course.”

“How do we get down there?”

The three men burst out laughing. “The trail, idiot,” Billy said, and pointed down at the narrow path snaking down the face of the cliff below them.

Joshua swallowed. Hard.

He went last, of course, but before Eli started, he leaned back and said to Joshua in a low voice, “Avery’s surefooted. Just relax and let him pick his own way. He knows the path. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Joshua nodded and did what Eli suggested, but it was still a nerve-wracking fifteen minutes or so before they set foot—or hoof—on level ground again. He was grateful when they stopped on a flat rise above the lake and dismounted, Billy taking their horses into the trees to tie them off while the others unpacked their lunch from the saddlebags.

After they finished eating, they lay on the grass in the dappled sunlight, enjoying the cool breeze from the waterfall. “How come this isn’t desert?” Joshua asked as he tipped his hat over his eyes. “I mean, it’s not just water—we followed that creek almost all the way here.”

“Part of what keeps the desert scoured is the wind,” Eli said. “Even if trees could get enough of a foothold on groundwater, the wind’ll dry ’em out and blow them over. Only along the riverbanks can trees put down enough root to fight the wind, and even then it’s the cottonwoods, ’cause they have such long roots. It’s sheltered here, and the falls keep the air cooled.”

“Sorta like natural air conditioning,” Manny said sleepily.

“Mmm,” Joshua said.

W
HEN
he woke, Billy and Manny were gone and the stuff from lunch had been packed up and put away. “Nice nap?” Eli asked humorously. He’d taken off his boots and shirt and was cooling his feet in the lake, but took them out when Joshua sat up. His toes were blue.

“Cold, huh?” Joshua stared at Eli’s feet. They were the whitest feet he’d ever seen, except for where they were blue. The rest of the man—what he could see—was tanned brown. No, not brown, bronze. Josh had seen his arms and had expected what they called a “farmer’s tan,” where only the arms and neck had color, but Eli’s chest and shoulders were dark gold, with the lighter gold of his hair a soft contrast. It made his blue eyes that much more startling.

“Yeah, the river’s mountain run-off, and this is a branch of that. Doesn’t travel far enough to warm up.” Eli rubbed at his feet with one of the cloths their sandwiches had been wrapped in.

“Why doesn’t anyone live here? I mean, it’s beautiful….”

“Shit yeah, but the only way in unless you’re traveling by helicopter is through that gate. I suppose you could probably build a road down through the cliffs, but this is all still Triple C land, and I can’t see Tuck wanting to wreck a perfectly good and useful canyon. But you’re right, it is beautiful. Tuck says his folks used to go on romantic weekend camping trips here.”

“Guess it would be nice if you were the romantic sort,” Joshua said. He didn’t look at Eli, but put his hat back on and stretched out the kinks from sleeping on the ground.

“Yep.”

Joshua wrapped his arms around his shins and watched the waterfall for a while. There was a peaceful feeling to the place, with the only sound the rumble of the falls and the splash of the odd fish in the lake. He wondered absently where the fish came from, if they swam down from the mountains somewhere, or if someone, sometime—Tuck’s parents, maybe, or grandparents—had stocked the lake for vacation fishing.

He glanced over to see Eli leaning back on his elbows, his long legs stretched out in front of him, feet crossed at the ankles. He’d abandoned his hat, the ubiquitous gray Resistol—it lay over by the saddlebags, and his fair hair was curling around his ears. His face was relaxed and he looked happy, and younger, closer to Joshua’s own age instead of his midthirties. Of course, Joshua thought, he himself probably looked older than twenty-eight. God knew he often felt older. But not now. Not right this second, when the breeze was cool and the sun was easy, and there was shade and quiet and Eli barely an arm’s distance away.

After a bit, Eli tilted his head back and looked at the sky. “Guess we oughta think about going back. It’s past noon. I’ve got some stuff to do this afternoon, and the new trainees were starting this morning. I’d like to take their measure before they settle in.”

“What about Manolo and Billy?”

“They’ll meander on back when they’re done. They’re gonna be a while, taking samples of water and grass and horse poop and stuff to send to the lab, not to mention checking out the wildlife in the area. This usually takes a few hours.” Eli put his boots, T-shirt and button-down on, got up, and picked up the saddlebags, carrying them to where the horses waited. He buckled them back into place. Joshua followed suit with his own, making sure the bags were settled properly before swinging back into the saddle. “Next time,” Eli said, “we’ll bring you along for the whole thing, but it’s pretty damn boring and I don’t want to drive you off just yet.” He gave Joshua a smile and set Button into motion. “Don’t want to drive you off at all.”

“Don’t want to be driven,” Joshua said as he nudged Avery with his heels.

“No man does,
mijo
. No man does.”

Joshua froze, and his horse stopped.
Mijo
. Just like that. Soft, full of feeling. So familiar.
Mijo bonito. Mijo valiente. Nunca te harán daño.
“You speak Spanish?” he asked, feeling suddenly stripped raw.

The foreman turned in his saddle. “Yeah—grew up in Wyoming, but we had a lot of Latinos on the ranch there too. And I’ve spent a good ten years in New Mexico, where more people speak Spanish than English. Kinda hard to avoid picking it up. It’s probably different from what you know—Mexican, not Puerto Rican. But the basics is the same.” He studied Joshua with kind eyes. “You okay,
chico
?”

“Yeah,” Joshua said hoarsely. “Fine.” He nudged Avery, and the horse moved forward. So it hadn’t been his grandfather’s voice he’d heard when he was dying out in the desert, but Eli’s. But he couldn’t be wrong about the emotion. He couldn’t be wrong about the words.
My beautiful boy. My brave boy. I would never hurt you
. Why would Eli say those things?