“Hey, when you came and got us at Fort McDowell, we were stranded. You saved our lives.”
“I was glad to help you out, pardner.” He glanced around. “Looks like we got two loads ready today. They’re pretty spooky.”
“Sure are, but the corrals are fortified and should hold them.”
Noah’s father, Frank, drove the second truck and did lots of gazing around, amazed at the ranch having been empty for so long.
After everyone stacked off the hay, the two trucks were loaded and headed out for Chandler. Mark told Noah they’d have two more loads in the pens no later than Friday.
Things were set.
Even Alma rode with the crew to round up the next shipment. The cattle were spooky and some ran off, but they had enough at the pens each drive to cut off the cows and calves they planned to keep, then brand them and their calves for release. With close to two days in the saddle, they’d branded over a hundred head and things were moving quickly. Noah and Frank hauled off fifty more head of bawling cattle and they went back to work.
Mark had a logbook and a stub of pencil to make entries for the cows turned out with calves. He was on a high each day when they rode out to get more. In three weeks, they’d sent four hundred and fifty head to town. He planned to slow things. The big cattle remaining hid out when they came looking for them. The easy part was done.
He sent word by Noah that they needed a ten-day break. He took everyone to Prescott in the old International truck Sam had brought up for them and treated them to a steak dinner. The two cowboys wrapped up in blankets and rode in the back—those boys didn’t mind a thing about that. They were ready to see the bright lights.
They bought supplies and found a man who had two stock dogs. He sold them for thirty dollars and guaranteed them to be heelers. They’d need them to catch the wild ones. Dressed up in heavy clothes, he hugged Alma and kissed her. They admired the Christmas lights in the stores and began to get in the spirit of the season.
“A year ago, I was in France freezing my ass off on the front lines. Today I’m freezing my ass off in Preskit and happy as a lark to have you. How lucky can a soldier get in twelve months?”
“It is all like a wonderful dream,” Alma said. “I was so sad when the news came about Jeff. I went to hide on the reservation. I never expected you to come along, seduce me, and have it all turn out so good.”
“It is just the start. We are partners in a ranch and we have shipped close to fifty thousand dollars’ worth of cattle to market, by my calculations. And we still have more.”
“Oh, Mark, I am so happy. This is the best Christmas in my life.”
They went home and honeymooned some more. The days ran into the New Year. They had two loads of cattle at the pens when Noah arrived on the first Tuesday of the new year. The big man, dressed in a Scotch plaid coat and knit cap against the brisk north wind, looked concerned.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine. Alma’s relative sent me word to tell her that her grandmother is not doing well and wishes to see her.”
“I’ll go get her and you can tell her.”
“If she needs to go, I’ll take her and bring her back later.”
“That’s mighty good of you.”
Noah put his arm on Mark’s shoulder. “My business has doubled. Not only you and Sam, but other folks have found me, too. I know it was doing this that did it. I’m getting more cattle and things to haul. It is really good, since I have two trucks to pay for, and Dad loves it.”
Alma joined them, and Mark told her the message and Noah’s offer.
“I will go get ready. She is a very important person in my life.”
“Go,” Mark said. “You need me to come down, send word and I’ll be there.”
“I will go pack.” She looked a little downfallen about the news. “I won’t be gone long,” she promised as they walked back to the house.
“Take as much time as you need.” He waved her on. Lord, as much as she had done for him, she didn’t need to apologize about going away for her family. There had been references made to him about how her grandmother made her attend school even when she didn’t want to go.
Alma left to ride into town with Noah, promising to be back in a few days. They had a hard time parting in the warmer-than-normal sunshine. Once he’d seen her off, he and the crew rode off with their young dogs to round up more cattle.
The weather remained warmer than usual for January. They found fifteen mature bulls in the brush, and between the dogs and hard riding, delivered them to the corrals at the headquarters.
“We’re getting better at this,” Jones teased as they unsaddled their horses. The angry bulls fought each other and bawled in the pens.
“There’s a car coming,” Carlos said with his ear turned to the west.
Jones frowned. “Who in the hell’s coming here?”
Something was wrong. Mark’s belly turned sour. Whose car was it?
It was Sam’s Lincoln. He set out to greet him, feeling weak-kneed. Why? What in the hell was wrong? Why did he feel so struck by something fatal?
“Mark, we need to go to the house and talk,” Sam said, getting out.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened? Is Alma all right?”
Sam stopped, dropped his chin, and took hold of his arm. “A drunk ran her over on the Lehi Road in the wagon. Mark, she died before the ambulance got there. I’m sorry. You’ve had enough hell in your life.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. This was a bad dream. Incoming artillery boomed, the machine guns rattled incisively, the copper scent of the dead filled his nostrils. Mark turned, staggering off on rubber legs to a little hill behind the ranch house where he fell to his knees sobbing. Oh Lord, why her? She was an angel. No—not his beautiful, sweet, little Alma. Not her. He wanted to kill someone. Anyone would do.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JONES WORE A NEW WHITE shirt. The two cowboys, hats in hand, stood in fresh clothing beside him. Several of Alma’s relatives clustered around Mark. They had spoken to him and squeezed his hands. Her aunt stepped forward and kissed him, thanking him for what he did by lifting her from her sorrows. But no one was going to lift him from his own losses. He never knew until today what people meant when they said they were heartbroken. His heart was shattered into tiny pieces—the heart that loved her, kept her happy and safe, promised to cherish her.
And he was afraid he’d never put the pieces together again.
The preacher spoke some in Pima, some in English. She looked good in her native dress, like he had found her in the pony parking lot. Wrapped in a new trade blanket of red, blue, and green stripes, it suited her more than the finest dress. He prayed God took her hand and told her how he would miss not having her. After a long silence, everyone looked down as if praying with him. They rode in the funeral home’s car to the reservation cemetery. The outline of the McDowell Mountains in the north looked blue-purple in the distance.
In his mind’s eye, he saw her and him chasing horses, her turning his way and laughing with sunlight on her blue-black hair. They disappeared into the skirts of mist around Four Points. Snow on the peaks gleamed against the azure sky. He swallowed hard. She was gone.
He was surprised to see his father and stepmother and walked over to talk to them. “Where is the new baby?” His voice didn’t sound like him.
“He’s at her mother’s. Sam sent us word. I’d heard you lived with an Indian woman. We were sorry to hear what happened. Sam told me you and him are partners in a big ranch.”
“Yes, it’s up in Bloody Basin. We’ve been working cattle. It was a mess.”
“Folks have been talking around Chandler about all the cattle you’ve shipped.”
Mark nodded. It was good to talk about everyday things for that moment. “I get time one day, I’ll drop by and see you and the new one. Excuse me for now, though. I need to speak to Alma’s folks before they leave.”
When he hugged his stepmother, she whispered, “God be wit
h you. I will burn a candle for you in my church.”
“Thanks.” Tears burned at his eyes, but he shoved them away. Why did she have to go and leave him?
He trudged over to talk to her family. “How is her grandmother?”
A small woman with a dried-up apple face waddled forward and held up her arms for him. “God bless you my son. You made her days bright after her loss.”
“Thank you, Grandmother, and all of you. I was so pleased to have shared the short time I had with her….”
He could say no more, and Sam took him to the car, holding his arm.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Back to the ranch. Do I still have a job?”
“Hell, yes. What do you need?”
“Another load of hay. We still have the wild ones to catch and we’ll start cutting off calves and cull old cows to ship.”
“You want to take some time off or anything? Jones can run the ranch.”
“I’ll best be able to get over her working as any other way. I love the ranch. And she’s with me there.”
“Fine. I’ll let Caleb drive the boys back up and I’ll take you.”
“Sam, just take me to Lehi. I’ll drive your old coupe up there and use it. You don’t need to go clear up there.”
“Son, I can’t believe we fell into this ranch deal. I know right now your loss of her is tough. But you and those three Indians have done so much. Well, I can’t hardly believe we’ve come this far already.”
He shook hands with Sam, then climbed in the older car, started it, and honked to signal at Sam. Out the car window were bare stalks of the past year’s cotton. Would there ever be another woman in his life to fill the empty gap in his heart? He beat the boys back to the ranch and was about in bed when they stomped past the house. They went on up to the bunkhouse, laughing and joking, their feet clomping on the hard earth. Alone in the bed under the covers, he stared at the dark underside of the shakes. The months ahead would be hard, but he’d make it—he had a ranch. Alma had loved it, too.
—
IN LATE JANUARY, SAM THREW a party at his house and sent word for Mark to come down to attend it. He had a room in the San Jose Motel in Mesa. In it, he found a new Western-cut black suit, starched white shirts, a Zuni bolo tie, and a new pair of black Justin boots, as well as two pairs of tan riders, and some snap shirts with a hand carved belt and an Indian-made silver buckle. To top it off, there was a snowy 40X Stetson hat. He sure had gone shopping for the first time in ages.
Sam’s note to him said, Be at the house before five and greet my friends for me. I will be late.
He was there by four-thirty. Sam’s housekeeper, Anna, told him the boss expected him to be the host, since he had business to handle. Mark walked around the spacious house and studied the Western art Sam had collected. In the den was the large painting of the sexy woman in the cloud scene used as an ad for A-1 Beer. When the doorbell rang, he answered it and a tall blonde woman in dark nylon stockings came into the tiled alcove. He guessed her to be in her mid-twenties. When he took her fur coat, she had quite a figure with her cleavage exposed and a diamond necklace that must have cost thousands hung over the sight.
“Linda Acosta.” A hand held out. Her voice was musical.
“Mark Shaw.”
“Oh, you’re Sam’s ranching partner?”
“Yes, ma’am. Can I get you a drink? We’re the first ones here.”
“What do you have?”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t know, but we can go find out. Anna said there’s a bartender here somewhere.”
She took his arm and they went back in the house and found Arnold, who made her a dry martini with an olive in it. He escorted her into the spacious living room.
They took seats apart on the couch and she answered questions, remarking that she was in Arizona to make a movie.
“You’re a movie star? I’m sorry. I’ve been overseas in the army, came back and worked this ranch in Bloody Basin. I don’t know a thing about the arts or the movie business.”
“This is my fourth film and I’m in big letters on the screen in this one. I want to do a Western, and Sam says your ranch is the place to film it. He says that real Indians work for you and they could be in the movie.”
Mark smiled. He wasn’t going to tell her it was just another old rundown ranch. Her perfume even smelled expensive. There was a lot of woman squeezed in that dress. Sam always had a deal going to make more money—now movies. His mind skittered from one thing to another, the woman made him so nervous.
The conversation got around to where he was staying. “San Jose Motel on west Main Street. Sam’s got me covered. Nice partner.”
“Did you buy this suit at Porters Western Store?” She fingered the material.
“My partner chose this one.” His flesh rippled from her touch.
“Very nice suit.”
“Thanks. I usually wear Levi’s.”
She laughed, deep throated and sexy. Arnold showed up with another dry martini and she traded him glasses. “You are a darling, sir.”
When he left, she quietly asked, “Are you a Mormon?”
“Lord, no ma’am. I simply don’t drink alcohol.”
“I admire you. They tell me you have medals from the war.”
“Some. I’ve been trying to shed that part of my life.”
“I can understand.”
No way in hell, but she was nice to say so.
People started to show up and she went along to help him greet them. They hung up fur coats and men’s top coats and directed them to go and feast. During a break they had in the incoming guests, he said, “I’m ruining your evening. I can do this.”
“No. I find you flattering and I enjoy your company. You’re a very unpretentious man and I like that.”
“You still don’t have much. I’m just a cowboy.” He opened the door to a rangy suntanned man with a crop of white hair. “Good evening. Welcome to Sam’s place. There’s finger food in the room to the left and Arnold can fix your drinks.”
“Thank you. My name’s Larkin. I take it you’re Mark Shaw. I have a large feedlot. Sam ever makes you mad, come and see me.”
“Thanks.”
His gray-haired wife, dripping in diamond jewelry, took his arm. “Carl, this is that actress I told you about. Linda Acosta.”
“How nice to meet you, young lady. My wife has told me all about your career.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, a little too nice.
When Larkin and his wife left them, Mark turned to Linda. “You knew him.”
She made a scowl. “Without her, he is much too handy.”
He was amused. “I guess that goes with the job.”
“No, it does not. But some men don’t understand.”
Sam finally arrived, kissed her on the cheek, and thanked her. “You two have done a wonderful job here. Now come in and join the party.”
Mark gave him a sharp look. Damn the man. This meeting of his with Miss Movie Star was all Sam’s work. She hung back, and Sam went on to greet everyone out in the big room.
She stepped in and took his arm. “I asked Sam for the job. I wanted to meet you. You’re a pretty level guy. I live in a world of phony people who think they are someone and aren’t. Do you dance?”
“I once did.”
“Good. Try and spoil the girl from California.”
“Yes ma’am.”
They danced, and she acted impressed. She drank some more dry ones, and then they danced more ’til supper. Seated side by side, they went through the courses. She leaned over and whispered, “Is your bed in the motel a double one?”
Struck speechless, he couldn’t think of a reply. It hadn’t been long since he lost Alma, but it was hard not to be tempted by this lovely movie star.
“I’m sorry….” He didn’t know what to say.
The man next to him held a platter of baked potatoes out to him. Glad for the interruption, he took one and passed them on. One of
the waiters delivered Linda a well-done filet and him a medium-rare steak that filled his dinner plate.
Her eyes flew open. “You must love beef.”
“I do. And I grow them.”
Linda did everything she could to lure him away to his room and bed. She had no shame. He was tempted. Any man would be, but all he could think was how would Alma feel? She wouldn’t want him to be alone, but it was too soon. Besides. A movie star? He had visions of her up on the ranch hunting for a shower. He had no wish for her style of living. It would only be a fling and that was wrong. Just wrong. When he did look for another woman, it would be for a life together. Not some cheap roll in the hay.
At the end of the evening, with everyone streaming out the doors except those who would spend the night, he told her one last time that he was sorry.
Linda regarded him with sultry eyes. “No need to be. I know you must really miss your wife. I wish we could be more than friends, but I have a career to build and you have a ranch. It’s best.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck cowboy. Maybe some other time, some other place.”
It was like being in a movie. He couldn’t help smiling and playing his part. “See you in the movies, darlin’.”
She laughed, trailing her painted fingernails along his jaw, swung into her coat, and left.
Mark felt good about the whole thing—better than going home feeling guilty over something he shouldn’t’ve done. She really was a nice woman. He’d watch for her on the movie screen.
He stayed to help Sam clean up. His partner seemed a bit surly. Mark wouldn’t be surprised if the man hadn’t tried to set him up with Linda.
Better luck next time, partner.
—
LATER AT SAM’S OFFICE, HE sat in the leather chair while Sam talked on the phone to someone about a deal. The man really enjoyed doing business. He hung up and looked at Mark.
“Hey, sorry things didn’t work out with Linda, there, cowboy. She’s almost too much for me, too.”
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