The Mavericks (31 page)

She slipped and slid. She sank to her knees twice, but she made steady progress. The closer she got to the top, the less worried Suzette looked. Then when she was almost there, she hit a patch that defied her best efforts to find footing.

“Let me carry you.”

Josie's heart jumped in her throat. She was afraid of not being able to reach the top of the slope, but she was terrified of being in Zeke's arms. She'd never allowed any man to carry her. “You won't be able to stand up holding me.”

“The extra weight will help,” Zeke insisted.

She didn't know why—probably the perversity of Fate—but Zeke had no trouble getting his feet firmly planted. He held out his arms, inviting her to walk into them, but she couldn't force herself to move. If holding Zeke's hand could practically raise her off the ground, what would being in his arms do?

“I've got a good foothold,” Zeke said, still holding his arms out to her. “It'll be easier if you come to me.”

Not if her body refused to move. Despite her fears, she couldn't remain on this slope. With her luck, the rocks would slip out from under her, and she'd slide the whole way back down. Then she'd have to do this all over again. She took a big breath and launched herself at Zeke. Somehow he caught her without losing his balance.

“When I pick you up, put your arms around my neck,” Zeke said. “Once I get you settled, don't move a muscle until I reach the top.”

That would be easy. She was practically paralyzed already.

“Put your arm over my shoulder.” The moment she reached over his shoulder, he put one arm behind her back, the other under her legs, and lifted her off the ground.

Her heart practically stopped beating. Her body was as rigid as a starched collar.

“Relax. I'm not going to drop you.”

Falling would have been easier on her. At least she would have been able to breathe.

“Now remember, don't move even if I stumble. I won't drop you.”

Steadying himself and shifting her weight for better balance,
Zeke took a step forward. His boots slipped, then took hold. Shifting his weight, Zeke swung his other foot forward. Again his boot slipped several times before he was able to secure a firm footing. Unable to contain her breath any longer, Josie let it out in a noisy whoosh.

“Are you afraid?”

“Of course not. I try to fall down a mountainside at least once a week.”

She felt Zeke's body shake slightly. He was laughing at her.

“If you dare laugh at me, I'll never speak to you again.”

“Some men would consider that a fair exchange.”

“Not you. You can't stop talking and asking questions. Sometimes I think the reason Hawk is so quiet is that you never give him a chance to get in a word edgewise.”

He was laughing again. She was going to have to hurt him.

“You'll never learn if you don't ask questions,” Zeke said.

“Some questions don't need to be answered.”

She didn't know why she was chattering like an idiot, or why he was encouraging her, but talking kept her from thinking about his arms around her or the muscled chest pressed against her. It served to distract her attention from the powerful attraction that seemed to be winding its coils around the two of them until it would be impossible to tear themselves apart.

“Some answers are never found until the question is asked,” Zeke said.

Either he was trying to confuse her with riddles or
he was making fun of her. Either way, she didn't like it. But he'd distracted her so successfully, she was caught by surprise when he set her on her feet on firm ground.

“That wasn't hard,” he said with one of those grins that made it impossible to stay angry at him. “Just get you mad, and you forget everything else, even the danger of falling down a mountain.”

So he'd said all those things just to upset her. Well, he hadn't actually said anything of importance, but it felt like he had. And it had all been fake. That was worse than his laughing at her. She struggled to keep from showing the pain that suddenly was almost more than she could bear. “How long do we have to stay up here? We can't find a job by hiding in the woods.”

Hawk moved through the trees with quick, silent steps. After Zeke and Josie had safely climbed the slope, he'd doubled back down the mountain to get close enough to hear some of what Gardner and the sheriff were saying. He had to know their plans before he and Zeke could make theirs. Because of the steepness of the mountainside, it was possible to get close and still be above them. Taking advantage of the pine needles to absorb the sound of his moccasins, he slipped from behind a ridge of rock and crawled on his belly until he reached the edge of a drop-off. He could make out at least six men through the trees. He recognized the sheriff, Gardner, and the two men who'd tried to steal their horses earlier. He assumed the sheriff had deputized the others to make the seizure seem legal.

“I tell you he couldn't have come this way,” the sheriff was saying. “It's impossible to climb that slope. I know men who've tried.”

“What about the hoofprints?” Gardner asked.

“There weren't no footprints,” the sheriff said, “just disturbed rocks. Probably wild burros. We've got plenty in this area.”

“I still say he's up there,” Gardner insisted.

“Fine. You go after him, but don't expect me to cover you. Those men aren't stupid. They had enough sense to come back from the theater and take off. I bet they were twenty miles away before dawn.”

“Not with those dancing girls.”

“There's no sign of that wagon. Since you offered them jobs at the Birdcage, I expect they've gone on to Tombstone. The Birdcage is a whole lot more famous than our little theater.”

They argued a bit more, but Hawk didn't stay to listen. He'd heard all he needed. He and Zeke were free to head to their ranch. The question now was what to do about Suzette and Josie.

“You're sure you don't mind going to our ranch?” Hawk asked Suzette. “Tombstone is only a short distance away. It wouldn't be any problem to take you there.”

“We can't perform until we get the wagon back.”

“You could still wait in Tombstone.”

“I'd like to see your ranch. Josie would, too.”

Hawk wasn't at all sure Suzette was reading her friend right. From the moment Zeke had set Josie on her feet at the top of that slope, she'd looked as nervous as a young cougar surrounded by a pack of hounds. If anybody had asked him, he'd have said she couldn't wait to get to Tombstone. The signals Suzette was sending out were exactly the opposite, and that was what made Hawk confused . . . and hopeful. He
wasn't good at reading women, but he was certain Suzette was in love with him.

He was a fool to have let Suzette sleep with him. He'd known from the beginning he was attracted to her. That should have been warning enough, but she'd explained her plans to him. That should have been plenty to caution even the most stupid man to back off. He supposed the problem was that he'd underestimated the strength of his attraction to her. He'd been certain he could control his feelings.

He'd been wrong.

He
was
in love with her. He'd been telling himself it was only sexual attraction, but he should have known it was a lot more when he threw that drunk into the audience. He'd never let a woman cause him to do things he knew he'd regret. He'd never met a woman he couldn't leave when the time came. So what the hell did he do now? It didn't matter how they felt about each other. Their lives could never fit together.

“It's just a ranch,” Hawk said. “Out here that means little more than a house, maybe a bunkhouse, and a few corrals.” He couldn't imagine a woman who'd been reared in wealthy society wanting to spend more than five minutes at their place.

“There have been a couple of times when I'd have been thankful for a roof over my head that didn't leak.”

“That won't be a problem in Arizona. It hardly rains except in winter and late summer.”

They had rested in the pine and fir forest until afternoon to make sure Gardner and the sheriff had gone. Using a trail to the south, they were able to get down the mountain with little difficulty. The temperature had jumped abruptly when they left the forest. The juniper
and pinyon pine slopes gradually gave way to broad areas of mesquite, ironwood, and sacaton, bunchgrass that grew up to four feet in places. Towering saguaro topped with white flowers and staghorn cholla with deep red blooms contrasted with the yellow of brittlebush, prickly-pear cactus, creosote bush, and paper flowers. Bees buzzed industriously, while tiny hummingbirds flitted from flower to flower with dazzling displays of speed. White-tailed deer feeding on the abundant grass watched the passing group with wary eyes, while hawks hovered overhead looking for unwary mice.

It was hard to believe there could be any serious conflict in such a pastoral setting, but Hawk knew the calm was as superficial as the tranquillity of Suzette's smile.

“Tell me about your ranch,” Suzette said. “I've never seen one before.”

“There's nothing to tell,” Hawk said, wondering what she could expect. “It's just a house in the middle of land like this.”

Suzette looked around, and a smile curved her lips. “I can't think of a more beautiful place to have a house.”

How could a woman who grew up in a house with servants even begin to understand what it was like to live in the desert? She hadn't seen the snakes or scorpions. She certainly hadn't listened to coyotes howl outside her window, or watched a cougar stalk her milk cow. And that didn't take into account the heat, the dust, and the loneliness. Add to that the backbreaking work necessary to care for livestock and put food on the table. It was virtually impossible to keep anything clean, including oneself.

“It's not as easy as it looks.”

“Nothing ever is.” But she didn't seem discouraged.
“I thought the desert was empty and so hot it would kill you in a few hours.” She flung out her arm to take in the entire vista. “This is beautiful. There are flowers everywhere.”

“Only for a short time. Everything dries up or dies until the monsoon rains in late summer.”

“You have forested mountains, tree-covered streams, and grassy plains. What more could you want?”

Hawk had never made a list of requirements for an ideal world. He accepted things the way they were. He couldn't recall ever thinking any place was beautiful. All that mattered was whether it was easy or hard to live there. “I doubt anybody in Quebec would think it's beautiful.”

He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Suzette turned away from him, but not before her smile faded and was replaced by an expression so bleak he wouldn't have been surprised to see tears fill her eyes. “I think it's beautiful,” she said softly. “It would be wonderful to live here and never again have to fulfill someone else's expectations.”

Hawk knew there was virtually no place where that was possible, but he didn't say so because he'd already ruined her sunny mood. Not that
his
mood was any better. And all because both of them had chosen to set aside reality for a few nights to take refuge in a fantasy that had become a dream they couldn't forget.

“You'd miss the excitement of living in a town, of entertaining, of—”

“Have you ever performed before a theater full of men?” She pulled her horse alongside his, locked her gaze on his. “Nobody sees me as a person. I don't have likes and dislikes, hopes and dreams, fears or
worries. I'm just a female with a set of body parts. The men may enjoy my singing and dancing, but it's really only an excuse to look at me, to fantasize about me, to turn me into the kind of woman who'll satisfy their sexual urges. They don't want to touch me because they care for me, only to undress me. They don't want to make love to me, only to relieve their sexual tension.”

“I didn't mean—”

“You may think what I do is harmless, but I know what those men are thinking, and a little piece of me dies every time I get on stage.”

“I thought you liked it.” It was a feeble response, but it was the truth.

“I dance because it's the only way I can earn the money to support my sister.”

Suzette pulled back on the reins and her horse dropped back behind Hawk's. That left him feeling like a heel. It also left him wanting more than ever to protect her, to give her the kind of life she deserved. But it was impossible for a half-breed Comanche to do anything to help a woman whose values had been set by Quebec society.

“I suppose living on a ranch for a while might be a nice change,” Hawk said, choosing his words carefully. “It'll take a couple of days to get your wagon to Tombstone. That'll give you a chance to see if you think ranch life is better than what you have.”

“And if I think it is?”

He was glad she was behind him and couldn't see his face. He was certain it betrayed what he was thinking. “Then we'll have to see what we can come up
with.” He didn't dare be more specific, because he knew there was no way they could be together.

“Is that your ranch?” Josie asked.

After what seemed like an endless ride through belly-high grass, they had come to a modest house set in the midst of a grove of towering sycamores that leaned inward as if to protect the house from the glare of the sun. Not far away was a small garden where peas, beans, and potatoes in desperate need of watering grew in crooked rows of different lengths. Two dozen hens surrounded by what seemed like a sea of chicks scratched for food in every corner of the yard. Josie didn't see her, but she was certain a milk cow lurked in the vicinity. All they needed was a pig pen to make the picture complete.

“That's the house,” Zeke said. “The ranch is two thousand acres in a rough arc between the San Pedro and Babocamari Rivers.”