The Lover (10 page)

“The way you kiss me,” he said.

Then, in one fluid motion, he got to his feet, picked up his hat, and ducked into the tent. When he came out with his bedroll under his arm, he walked away without so much as one glance back.

F
or the next two weeks they made good time, considering that the cattle were only slowly getting broke to the trail and the drovers had to watch constantly to keep the herd together and not let them turn back to their home range. All the crew had almost more than they could do but Eagle Jack, as usual, worked as if he never needed rest and he kept pushing to hold their position on the trail.

Eagle Jack and Susanna, while scouting ahead for water and bedgrounds, had come across an old drifter who told them that he knew of four herds that had gone before them, and word had come from a rider who took a meal at their fire that there were more cattle not too far behind them. This would be a record year for the number of cattle driven north. That had been the predic
tion, and it seemed to be proving true.

Susanna worked like two persons, too, helping Maynell prepare and clean up the meals, and riding with Eagle Jack (both of them behaving in the most businesslike fashion) every hour she was free. She began to be grateful to him, not only for the knowledge she was gaining but also for the relief from drudgery. Stepping up onto a horse and riding away into the open country after bending over the cook fire and the dishpan for hours was a lift to her spirits every time.

And it wasn't
only
because she was with Eagle Jack. At least, that's what she kept telling herself. But she had to admit that she wouldn't look forward to those hours out in the beautiful countryside nearly so much if she weren't with him.

Eagle Jack was unfailingly cheerful, no matter how tired he was, and his conversation was a welcome respite from Maynell's chatter about the drovers and the meals and her constant directions about how Susanna should take advantage of her time with Eagle Jack. Maynell could be downright tedious sometimes.

Now they were within thirty miles of their first really hazardous big river crossing, the Brazos, and Susanna's trail-driving lessons had been on that subject for the last couple of days. There had been lots more of the rain to the west, they had heard that by word of mouth, and they'd also seen lots of faraway thunderheads since the night the
mustangs had run through their herd. More rain had fallen on them, too, and all the smaller streams they'd crossed within the last week had been swollen more than usual.

That night, Eagle Jack and Susanna found a bedground early and then, side-by-side, rode back toward the herd. She was the one who had considered all the possibilities and made the decision of where to settle the herd for the night.

“You did a good job,” he said.

“Thanks. I'm learning.”

“That's 'cause I'm such a good teacher,” he said, in his mischief-making voice.

“Oh.” She teased him in return, “I see the way it is. The fact that I'm a fabulous student gets no credit at all. Is that right?”

He just rode along, relaxed in the saddle, giving her that irresistible grin of his. “I reckon so.”

“And the fact that I have, inexperienced as I am, brought this herd for all these miles without losing a one gets no recognition at all?”

“That's right.”

“You are so conceited, Eagle Jack.”

She couldn't keep the affection out of her tone when she said it. He was, as Maynell pointed out at least once daily, the most lovable man in Texas. There was just something about him.

It didn't mean that she was going to go to him for more than friendship, though, as he had predicted. She had herself totally under control.

“There you go insulting me again,” he said, in his careless way. “That's what started us out all wrong, Susanna. You made some similar remark right there in the jailhouse in front of everybody on the morning we met.”

She chuckled. “Did I embarrass you in front of your friends?”

“Well, yes, you did. That's why I was so glad to leave them behind. Now I just live in fear that you'll do it again in front of the men.”

That made her laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, sure you do. I couldn't embarrass you, Eagle Jack, if I stole your jeans some night and you had to ride all day in your underwear.”

He lifted an eyebrow and widened his grin. “And how do you think, Miss Susanna, you can steal my jeans off me when, like everybody else, I crawl into my bedroll every night with them on? Have you been peeking out of your tent and spying on me, hoping I'd take them off one night?”

Her cheeks grew warm. She should not have said that. Hadn't she learned by now that Eagle Jack could take one remark and make jokes out of it all day?

“Certainly not. That's just another example of how conceited you are, E. J.”

He ignored that while he leered at her.

“I surely do hope you
are
watching me, Annie. I might just return the favor if I get half a chance.”

She didn't really know when or how they'd
started calling each other by nicknames, but it seemed natural to do so now. They had become better friends than she'd realized.

Or maybe it wasn't friendship, maybe it was simply fun to pass the time on the trail.

“I hate so much to disappoint you, but I
couldn't
be spying on you. Don't forget it's dark when you crawl into your bedroll and there's a lot of men out there doing the same thing.”

He drew back and clapped his hand over his heart.

“But there's no comparison, is there, Suzy girl? You'd know me from those other guys even if the night was pitch black, wouldn't you?”

The sad truth was, she probably would.

She heaved a theatrical sigh. “I'm afraid you've a terminal case of self-admiration, Eagle Jack. We may have to shoot you to put you out of your misery.”

He flashed her a flirtatious look. “Kiss me first,” he said. “Don't let me die, beautiful Susanna, without a kiss.”

He slowed his horse and leaned toward her from the saddle.

Without hesitation, she leaned to meet him.

His lips brushed hers, once, twice. He kissed her, lightly. And with such a piercing sweetness that it brought tears to her eyes.

With such a splendid affirmation that it made her proud to be exactly who she was.

I like you, Susanna. You're all right. I like to be with you.

She fancied that was what the kiss was saying.

He tasted like the smells on the warm wind, like faraway pines and close-by sage and the open sky.

He tasted like Eagle Jack.

She could have stayed there forever, exactly like that, moving with him on the slow-walking horses, with his mouth on hers.

When he took it away, she felt bereft.

And traitorous to herself, as if she'd taken a step toward walking into his arms. He'd said she would come to him. She had promised herself she wouldn't. She couldn't afford to, with her heart at stake where he was concerned.

She could not believe she was so
weak-willed
, where he was concerned.

But his gaze was holding hers, sure and steady, and she felt connected to him.

“We'd have to say we're partners on this drive, wouldn't we?” he said.

“I guess so.” She laughed a little. “Neither one of us ever rides with anybody else.”

“Then that means we stand night guard together,” he said, teasing her. “When I roll out at midnight, you'd better do it, too.”

“No. The cook doesn't stand night guard.”

“The cook and the trail boss are exempt,” he said.

“Then how come you're doing it?”

“We're shorthanded,” he said.

“Sorry,” she said. “I can't sing very well at all.”

“The cattle don't care,” he said. “All they need is the sound of a human voice.” He grinned at her as the horses quickened their pace. Mention of the cattle was drawing them both back toward the herd. “As the segundo, you need to set a good example,” he said.

“Oh, yeah. As if a woman could ever be the segundo.”

He held her gaze with a long, straight look.

“Keep on like you're doing, and you could.”

“Tell that to the men. I couldn't even hire them on my own, remember? They won't follow orders from me.”

He smiled. “By the time we cross the Red River, you'll be able to take the herd on to Abilene all by yourself.”

A shaft of fear sliced through her. An old fear, one she knew well, although she hadn't felt it for a while.

Not since she'd wondered if he would leave her if he found Molly. Was he hinting now that he might leave her and her herd after they crossed into the Territory?

She shot him a quick glance. He was riding relaxed in the saddle, still smiling at her.

Could
she trust him? Had her instincts been right these past two weeks?

Or not?

 

By late the next afternoon, Susanna's herd was within twenty miles of the Brazos River crossing and Eagle Jack went scouting ahead, leaving her to select the bedgrounds. They had passed two yearling herds whose drovers said the river had been impassable for a week, and it was urgent to find out if they should go on closer to it or not.

“Take the wagon with you,” he said, “and make sure Maynell has her shotgun loaded. If there's any trouble, use it.”

“I'm wearing my handgun,” she said. “Don't you think I can shoot?”

“Use it, too,” he said.

The minute he was gone, she had the strangest feeling. What if he didn't come back tonight? What if he didn't come back ever?

She knew she was letting fear get a hold on her again when she said as much to Maynell as she rode beside the wagon.

Maynell replied with her famous skeptical look. “Eagle Jack's not gonna run out on you, girl,” she said. “He's as good at heart as he is handsome.”

“I really don't think he will,” Susanna said, “but—”

“—but you ain't known nothing
but
people runnin' out on you, one way or the other, since the day you was born, and that's what you expect,” Maynell finished for her.

Maynell had known her for only a couple of years, but she knew her well. She knew Susanna's mother had died birthing her, that her father had run off shortly after, that her relatives had passed her around from one family to another.

They were all too poor and too overworked to take another mouth to feed, and it seemed that as soon as she would even begin to think she was going to stay in one place they sent her to another. That had gone on during all her years of growing up, from the time she was born until she'd married Everett when she was seventeen.

“I suppose so.”

“Ain't no supposin' to it,” Maynell said. “It's a hard-down fact, that's what it is.”

In a flash of insight, Susanna realized that that was another reason Maynell had insisted on coming along. Making pies for Eagle Jack was only one excuse.

Maynell loved her even more than she'd realized. Cooking out on the ground for a bunch of men three times a day and then cleaning up, packing up, and moving on, only to do it all over again, was much more work than Maynell's usual chores at Brushy Creek. Susanna resolved to help her more and ride with Eagle Jack less.

They rode along in companionable silence for a short way, then Maynell hit a rock and began a long story about a wagon wreck she'd been in before Susanna was born. She was just building up
to the cause of it when the sound of hooves drumming announced a rider coming.

“From the east,” Maynell said, and she was right.

It was a short, stocky bay mare with a tall rider. When he was within earshot, he slowed his horse and called to them.

“This the wagon for the Slanted S herd?”

“Yes,” Susanna called back and turned to ride to meet him.

“Stay by,” Maynell said. “Let him come to us.”

Discreetly, she felt for the shotgun beneath the seat.

The horse bore a brand that looked like a staggered six and a seven, a brand that Susanna didn't know. Both the little mare and the rider looked well-fed. This wasn't a grubline drifter looking for a free meal.

He swept off his hat and gave them each a bold smile. “Nat Straight,” he said, by way of introducing himself. “What a stroke of luck to come across two such beautiful ladies out here so far from town. I hear it's better to be born lucky than handsome, and this proves it right down to the ground.”

With all that talk of luck he might be a roving gambler.

Or with that talk of beautiful ladies far from town, he might be the kind to try to take advantage of women.

Susanna didn't give him the encouragement of smiling back at him. “My husband will return momentarily,” she said. “Do you have business with the Slanted S?”

“So I've heard,” the man said. “But that might depend on what your husband's name is.”

“Eagle Jack Sixkiller,” she said.

Surprise flashed across his face, then it was gone.

“Congratulations must be in order,” he said. “I wasn't aware that Eagle Jack had finally got himself roped and branded.”

“Yes,” she said, and then didn't quite know where to go from there.

“Well, he always did pick the prettiest ladies,” Nat Straight said. His weathered face reddened a little as he realized that might not have been the most tactful thing to say. “But this time he's gone and outdone himself,” he said heartily. “You're the most beautiful of them all, by a long shot, ma'am.”

He fell silent, twisting his hat in his hands, obviously wondering whether that remark had been a mistake, as well.

“Thank you.”

How many beautiful ladies had Nat known Eagle Jack to have? There must have been lots. Did he love any of them? She wondered if Nat would know that.

“I reckon I'll ride on back to my herd now,” he
finally said. “How much farther you reckon to go before you make camp?”

“Not far,” Susanna said. “I'm looking at that grove of trees over there to the northwest. That meadow next to it may be just right.”