Startled, he looked up from his coffee.
“No, ma’am. I done told your husband that. All I know is the Bar 20 crew was saying they’ve been winning money when they race her.”
“Did they tell you what color she is?”
“No, ma’am. They never said.”
Susanna sensed his relief as she turned away and left him. She knew he’d already told his stories, but she’d been helping Maynell and she hadn’t heard the details. All she knew was that Eagle Jack had bolted his food and called to her to say he was going to see if the little running mare with the herd coming along behind them could possibly be Molly.
He’d called her Susanna, not any endearment. In private, he probably wouldn’t even speak to her at all.
Now he was gone, the sun was sinking slowly to the close of the hottest day they’d had since last summer, and the sky was starting to flash with lightning. There were heavy, dark clouds to the west. The cattle were restless. Maybe she should try to hire this man on, after all.
But just then he stood and threw his tin cup into the wreck pan. “Thanks for the grub, ma’am,” he said to Susanna. Then he looked at Maynell. “Ma’am,” he said, and tipped his hat to her.
“Sayin’ thanks won’t cut it around this camp,” she retorted. “Git over here and wash these dishes to pay for your supper like a visitor with any manners would already be doin’.”
Sheepishly, he did as he was told.
Susanna smiled to herself as she walked out toward the remuda. She might as well save her breath on the job offer. No way would a lazy man hire on with this outfit with Maynell cracking the whip.
She chose a fresh horse and saddled it. Eagle Jack’s absence made her too restless to sit still and left a man missing from the herd. She would take his place and pray that the weather wouldn’t cause the cattle to run.
At first, it was almost relaxing riding slowly around and around the herd. Marvin was riding in the other direction, and they passed each other each time they made a circle. Most of the cattle had lain down and, although some were bawling and moving around, Susanna had hopes they’d all go to sleep as soon as darkness fell. The air was heavy and humid, though, and some of the clouds were getting heavier. It was raining to the north, she could tell.
She rode and listened to Marvin singing to the cattle and thought about Eagle Jack. Five miles to the herd behind them and five miles back would take a while. He had left camp on a fresh horse at a lope but he’d have to slow him to a trot part of the time or wear him out. Maybe he could ride Molly back. For his sake, she hoped so.
For her sake, she hoped so. Then maybe he’d get his mind on her cattle and not leave them when it was stormy weather. Ashard of fear sliced through her. He had accepted her offer so he could get out of jail and look for his stolen horse. He had come up the trail because he was keeping his word to her, yes, but also because his horse was rumored to be headed this way.
That race horse was probably the most important possession he had, probably the source of the money he’d withdrawn from the bank in Salado. So what did it mean if the horse he found tonight did prove to be Molly? Would he take her and leave Susanna and the herd?
If he did, who would blame him, after her rejection of the simple, friendly gesture of a flower? The embarrassment and chagrin were too much to deal with, yet again, so Susanna tore her thoughts away from that memory.
Surely he’d be back by midnight. Surely the storm wouldn’t hit until then. But she knew she was fooling herself. It would storm within an hour or two, the clouds were moving so fast.
She watched the sky, which was stunningly beautiful, as if she could predict the exact minute trouble would start. Scattered shafts of sunlight were shining here and there in the dark gray and blue of the clouds. The paler yellow of the lightning cut through them, too, and thunder rumbled somewhere far off in the distance.
It was coming closer. She turned to look toward the sound, which seemed to be in the northern sky. Or in the cloud of dust rolling toward them from that direction.
A herd? Was an outfit up ahead on the trail losing their cattle? She stared, amazed, as the cloud came closer and closer, then she turned her mount and rode for camp. Whatever it was, it coming right at her cattle and she needed all hands if they were going to have a prayer of holding them.
She rode in at a high lope, yelling for them to get horseback, only to see that they’d already heard the noise and were running for their night horses, saddled and tied to the wagon wheels. Streaking back to the herd, she stood in her stirrups to get a better view and saw that the approaching trouble was in the form of horses, a bunch of wild horses who were running full out.
There was no time to wonder where they’d come from or where they were going. They burst into the herd as if it weren’t even there and ran through it without altering their course one bit. The cattle were already starting to move. Fast. They were running as soon as they got their feet under them, fleeing from danger as if they were one.
She made it to the south end of the herd and glimpsed Marvin coming, aiming to meet her, but she knew in a heartbeat there was no hope of turning them now. Could they have held them if she’d stayed with the herd? It was impossible to know, but probably not.
That was the last coherent thought she had, because from then on it was nothing but a race for survival. She and Marvin rode only to keep clear of the onrush. The cattle pressed them hard but their mounts kept the lead.
Susanna held on to her mount and tried to stay in the saddle. That was all. Just stay in the saddle and out from under the thousands of hooves trying to catch her. She rode as she’d never ridden in her life before.
Finally, when she was thinking only that she’d never be able to take a full, deep breath of air into her lungs again, the pace began to slow. Thank God, running was not a natural gait for cattle. Through the din, she could hear nothing but as she glanced to her left, where she’d last seen Marvin, she saw two distinct flashes. He was firing his six-shooter into the air to try to turn the cattle. It hit her like a blow that she should be wearing hers also. From now on, she would.
The leaders did begin to turn to the right, Jimbo and one of Marvin’s men appeared out of the dust to help, and gradually they pushed the herd around to head to the north again. When it was sure that they were all under control and there were men on both sides of the herd, Susanna slumped in the saddle and let herself take it all in.
Pride flowed through her with the overwhelming relief. She had done a man’s work and she had ridden like a cowboy in spite of her fear. She had helped lead her herd and because of what she and Marvin had done, the cattle were mostly all still together, as far she could tell in the fading light.
She had gambled everything she had that she could take these cattle to Kansas. Now she knew that she could. She also knew she could have died here tonight.
Around midnight, when Eagle Jack rode back in, Susanna was sitting cross-legged on a saddle blanket outside her tent, smelling the fresh-washed world on the wind. It had rained, finally, but mostly the storm had passed over them dry.
He still had only the horse he rode out on. By the light of the fire, which was always kept going for coffee, she watched him unsaddle and take his mount out to the remuda. Then he strode toward her as if he could see her sitting there in the dark shadows.
As he got closer she could tell that he did know she was there, even before he spoke. She couldn’t have said how she knew it, but there was no doubt.
“So,” he said, “I hear you had a little run.”
His voice had lost its anger. Or at least most of it.
“How?”
“I stopped and talked to Rodney. He says they’re ready for a rest now.”
“It was a bunch of horses that started them,” she said. “Looked like some mustangs running crazy.”
“Probably got separated from their main herd,” he said, and then, with a weary sigh, sat down beside her. He took off his hat, laid it on the gra
ss, and stretched out full length, leaning on one elbow. Looking at her.
A thrill ran down her spine. It was a speculative look that spoke of far-reaching possibilities.
“Was the mare not yours?” she said.
“No. She couldn’t hold a candle to Molly.”
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded.
Susanna swallowed hard and thought how to say what she needed to say.
“I’m sorry about something else, too,” she blurted. “I was rude about the flower.”
He just kept on watching her. Then he said, “What brought this on?”
“I could’ve been killed tonight,” she said. “I would’ve hated that to happen with your feelings hurt and you mad at me.”
He grinned. She could barely see his face in the sporadic light from the moon riding in and out of the clouds.
“I would’ve hated it, too,” he said. “I was arrogant, thinking I could give flowers to any woman I wanted.”
“It’s all right,” she said.
“I’ll get my blankets and sleep out with the men,” he said. “I’ll tell them it’s so we won’t disturb you when they call me for night guard.”
Susanna felt a sudden deflation, as if all the air had gone out of her. But why? She didn’t want him in her tent. She really didn’t. This was what she’d been trying to accomplish this very morning, was it not?
“From now on, don’t worry about anything more than keeping up appearances,” he said.
“I’m not,” she said quickly, too quickly. “I don’t.”
The words hung in the air between them.
“Because,” he said, in a tone that assumed that wasn’t the end of the conversation and they both knew it, “I was thinking about you tonight. I’ll just wait for you to come to me.”
Surprise, no, shock, actually made her mute for a minute. Then anger stirred her tongue.
“Arrogant is right,” she said, bristling. “What makes you think I will?”
He smiled and the moon showed her the glint in his dark eyes.
“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.
Chapter 9
For 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 prediction, 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.
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