“What are you doing?” she said.
“Eagle Jack Sixkiller, you get back in this wagon,” Maynell said. “I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to take care of you and you’re gonna do what I tell you.”
“Go on, May,” he said. “Start supper. Tolly said his cook is a hell of a hand with an axe, so you and Cookie’ll have his crew to feed on top of ours.”
Thank God, his memory was still there. His brain was still working.
And so was his temper. He’d spoken in a sharper tone than he normally ever used with a woman, but, damn it, he’d had all of this babying he could take.
“All right, then,” Maynell said, her mouth tight with anger. “But don’t you be expecting any pie.”
Susanna laughed. “Now you’ve done it, Eagle Jack. You’ve gone and offended your strongest supporter.”
“That’s right,” Maynell snapped. “Handsome is as handsome does, brown eyes or not.”
She raised the lines, slapped them down across the mules, and took off across the rocky ground at an alarming clip.
“Now,” Eagle Jack said, laying the rein against the horse’s neck and turning him around, “we’re going to see about the cattle. I can’t believe you’re so doggone loco over that infernal bridge that you’ve taken the crew away from the herd.”
Susanna stiffened in his arms. He hated that. She absolutely just fit against him, he’d noticed during these fleeting moments.
“We’ve got two big herds to make into one, in case you’ve forgotten, Susanna. They need to be held together.”
She jerked her head around as far as she could with him so close behind her and her eyes flashed blue fire. She grabbed for the reins but she didn’t have a chance against his greater strength.
“I am not loco. I am perfectly capable of bossing this drive any time you choose to faint and fall over, Eagle Jack.”
Hot fury chased the worried anger out of his veins.
“You had no call to shoot and scare my horse,” he said, through gritted teeth. “This is what comes of a woman carrying a firearm and shooting at random in the middle of camp.”
She butted him backward with her head, slamming painfully into his breastbone.
“This is what comes of a man falling off his horse,” she said, also through gritted teeth. “If you’d stuck, you wouldn’t have been knocked silly at all.”
“I haven’t been knocked silly.”
“Then what is your excuse for making such ridiculous, outlandish remarks?”
She tried again for the reins back, but he wouldn’t let her even get close. He held them down against his thigh with one hand and grabbed both of hers with his free one.
These gloves she wore were still the ones with the holes in them. He’d forgotten all about the new ones he’d bought her.
Well, he might just save them for some girl in Abilene. He couldn’t remember now why he’d ever bought Susanna a gift in the first place.
“You turn me loose,” she said, her husky voice sounding downright dangerous. “I’m warning you, Eagle Jack Sixkiller, that I will not abide being treated this way.”
“Well, I will not abide my cattle being scattered all over Texas and Mexico.”
“They aren’t! They won’t be! I left enough men with them and they’re perfectly calm and they’ll be here soon.”
“You hope, Susanna. Let’s just go and see for ourselves how they’re doing.”
“You brute!” she said. “I promised Tolly I’d come right back and help drag brush to the bridge.”
That made him angrier.
“You have no business promising Tolly anything,” he said.
First Nat and now Tolly.
“Don’t be promising anything to any man,” he said, before he thought, “tell them they’ll have to deal with your husband.”
Her sudden laugh was almost a snort. “Oh, yes, how could I forget?” she said, in a sarcastic tone. “Especially when you’re kidnapping me while I’m on my own horse. That’s just exactly like something my first husband would’ve done.”
That remark stung. It was an insult to be compared to the evil Everett, but now he’d be embarrassed to turn her hands loose in response.
Her wrists were resting now in the tangle of his fingers. However, her pulse was beating fast, as fast as his heart was.
It was anger that was causing that. Anger and concern about the herd.
His blood was not pulsing through his veins like a freight train because he was so close to her, feeling the curve of her breast against the inside of his arm. Smelling the lemony scent of her hair in spite of her ridiculous leather riding hat.
But what about her? Was her pulse drumming like this beneath her smooth skin because she was angry, too?
Or was it because of his nearness?
“I’ll promise whatever I like to whomever,” she said.
With a sudden jerk, she pulled her hands free. He let them go.
“Now you turn this horse around, Eagle Jack Sixkiller, or…”
“Or what?” he demanded.
“Or I’ll…I’ll take my herd and go off on my own as soon as we cross the bridge.”
One thing that was totally consistent about Susanna was her yearning for independence. For self-sufficiency. It was admirable, but it could kill her, too.
The other consistent feature he’d noticed was her tendency to do the opposite of what she was told.
“Make that a promise,” he said. “You go right ahead, Susanna, and do what you have to do.”
She stiffened even more and tried to sit up away from him but there wasn’t room in the circle of his arms.
“I will,” she said. “And I’ll take Maynell with me.”
“Fine,” he said. “She’s already cut off my supply of pie.”
“Oooh,” she said, narrowing her eyes as she twisted around to look up at him, “that’s all you can think about, isn’t it, Eagle Jack? Your desserts and your cattle.”
He used both hands to hold her there, splaying his fingers twined with the reins over her slender body just beneath her full, soft breasts. Slowly, he brushed the underside of them with his thumbs.
“No,” he said. “Sometimes I think about this, Susanna.”
She looked at his mouth as if she already knew what he meant.
He kissed her, light and easy.
Somewhere, deep inside, he intended to leave it at that. Somewhere, deep inside, he knew he should leave it at that.
But her lips parted beneath his and they tasted like honey. Her tongue touched his and desire shot through him in a lightning bolt of wanting.
More. He wanted more.
He let the reins drop and caressed her hungrily, running his palms over her back, feeling the heat of her skin through her shirt. Her hat slipped off to hang around her neck on its stampede strings, and he thrust his fingers into her hair, cradling her head in his hands.
She wanted more, too, and she told him so with a helpless little whimpering sound deep in her throat and the silent messages of her tongue and her lips. She wanted to know him, they said, all of him, and she wanted this kiss to last forever.
So did he. That was all he knew for certain at that moment. So did he.
She broke the kiss at last, broke it with no warning at all, and turned her face away from him.
“Susanna?”
“Eagle Jack,” she whispered, “don’t kiss me anymore. Just don’t do it, okay?”
She leaned forward, away from him, and bumped the horse with her heels to move him from a walk to a trot. Eagle Jack realized he hadn’t even known they’d slowed down.
Without turning, Susanna spoke out loud. Solemnly.
“This is a business arrangement,” she said seriously. “We can’t either one afford to forget that.”
Eagle Jack realized how much he hated solemnity.
“I know you like to kiss me,” he said.
He leaned sideways to look at her face. For a minute he thought he had made her smile.
But she didn’t. And she didn’t even glance at him.
“I like it too much,” she said.
He relaxed and squeezed their mount with his knees, lifted them into a slow, rocking lope with Susanna still in the circle of his arms.
“That’s no way to think—quittin’ somethin’ because you like it too much,” he said, murmuring the words into her ear. “Life’s too short for such foolishness.”
She didn’t answer.
He smiled to himself. That was exactly the reason she stayed in his mind all the time, the reason she had such a power to draw him to her. She was the greatest challenge of any woman he’d ever known.
That was probably the reason, too that he felt the most passion for her that he’d felt for any woman. It had been there even when he’d been lying on the ground looking up into her laughing eyes.
He might as well admit to it. And he might as well go ahead and make love with her, which would be very good for her because she was way too constrained in her life. Maybe he could teach her to enjoy life more.
He had changed his mind. He wouldn’t wait for her to come to him. After they had crossed the Brazos, he would go to her, he would take her in his arms and make her beg to stay there.
She would beg him to make love to her.
And they would let the passion that shimmered between them like a light live in all its glory. They would let it run its course and die out and then she wouldn’t have such a hold on him anymore. Then he could forget about her.
Then he’d be fancy free again and Susanna would be just one more of the many women in his life.
Chapter 12
The place Tolly had chosen to build the bridge was a miry slough that oozed with only a few inches of water. That water was steadily getting deeper, though, because of the rain to the west, and all the men were working as hard as they could to fill in the last of the turf and dirt in the logs that rested on top of the sixty-foot-long, thick pile of brush that they’d laid down first.
A bridge was the only way to approach the river here, because a man could tell by looking that this swampy mess would bog cattle right and left. Tolly was right about that.
Eagle Jack sat his horse and looked it all over. He didn’t like it.
Yes, it had solid banks on either side—he had already ridden across to check that out. And yes, the river did flow more slowly and more shallow just beyond it than at any place they’d looked at downstream. But he still didn’t like it.
Something in his gut had told him the very idea of a bridge was a lost cause as soon as the word came out of Tolly’s mouth there at the campfire that morning. But he’d been desperate to get across and desperate to get ahead of the five herds already waiting at the ford. He had let that desperation drive him.
And now the bridge was nearly completed and he had given a day and a half of his and his crew’s strength to the task. Like it or not, he was in it now.
It was either use the bridge or swim the thousands of cattle and all the men—not to mention the two women—across a deeper, faster part of the river. That’d be dangerous as sin right now, with it freshening even more from the new rains. They might as well take the bridge.
Tolly rode up to him.
“Bring up your herd,” he said. “Mine is two miles out and scattered more. You can cross while we bring them up.”
“We have no right to go ahead of you,” Eagle Jack said. “This bridge was your idea and your crew did most of the work.”
“No time to argue,” Tolly said, turning to look at the sky, “it’s raining harder to the west.”
A few sprinkles splattered onto the brims of their hats.
“And moving this way,” Tolly added. “Besides, your cattle aren’t as wild. Mine need a good example to follow.”
“My beef herd’s not too bad but Susanna’s wet herd is,” Eagle Jack said.
Susanna. He didn’t even know if she could swim.
He couldn’t decide which he’d rather do: go first and get it over with or hang back and see how the bridge held up.
“So we’ll send your beef herd first,” Tolly said, as he started to ride away. “Head ’em up.”
This was Tolly’s project. That made him the boss. Which was why Eagle Jack hated getting involved in something like this.
He sat straighter in the saddle and banished every hesitant thought. Too late for that now.
“All right, Tolly,” he said. “Let’s get it done.”
Eagle Jack had the men bring his and Susanna’s herds around in a circle, more than a mile in diameter, and as the rear end of the cattle—made up of his beef herd—was passing, they turned the last hundred head, put their usual leaders at their head, and pushed them toward the bridge.
The cattle balked and wouldn’t even consider it.
“Let’s try it again,” Eagle Jack said, “and bring them up slowly, keeping them in a solid body until we get them opposite the bridge. We’ll round them up slowly, just like we were going to bed them down.”
He turned to looked at Tolly, who was waiting to help.
“Then how about you put a long line on one of your oxen, Tolly, and lead him through them and onto the bridge?”
Tolly thought about that. “That’ll work,” he said. “I’ll bet you money your leaders will follow Old Whitey.”
“Go get him,” Eagle Jack said. Then he turned back to his men. “Careful not to crowd them, boys. We all know if we get them milling, the jig’s up. He swung his horse around and came face-to-face with Susanna, mounted on Fred. “I thought you were crossing with the wagons,” he told her.
“I am. Cookie said we’d use saddle horses instead of the mules to swim them across the river, so I can help y’all until then.”
His heart thudded once, hard, against his ribs. He had to be careful how he put this or she’d do just the opposite. Except she had promised, way back there at Brushy Creek, to follow orders in matters of life and death.
“Yours doesn’t need to be one of the ropes on the wagon,” he said. “Is Fred a good swimmer?”
“The best,” she assured him, patting the horse’s neck. “Now what do you need me to do?”
He hesitated thoughtfully. “Mainly just to get yourself and Maynell across safely. Cookie will insist on managing the wagons. You know how bullheaded he is.”
She cocked her head and looked at him.
“I need all the men on this herd right now,” he said. “So y’all will have to wait a little while.”
“I’m not going to just sit around and watch,” she said.
“All right. Help push the cattle onto the bridge. But once they’re moving, go back to the wagons.”
“You’ll need every hand you can get when the cattle go off the end of the bridge and hit the river,” she said. “Cookie and Maynell can take care of the wagons.”
He bit his tongue and tried to hold his temper.
“That’s not the question,” he said, proud of himself for the calm tone that came out of his mouth. “I’ll send men back to help them with the wagons.”
She gave him her narrow-eyed, dangerously stubborn look. “So then what is the question?”
His control snapped. “Your safety, damn it. This is one of the life-and-death times you promised to take orders from me.”
“I can swim like a fish,” she insisted. “But we’re not in the river now. Where do you want me to get this herd moving?”
So he gave her a position and went back to the cattle. He’d watch her like a hawk when they got onto the bridge.
The men worked the herds perfectly, keeping the beef herd nearest the bridge, and Tolly caught up his white ox. A few small bunches tried to mill, but Susanna rode through one of them and Marvin another and after about a half hour, they all quieted down.
Then Tolly, whistling, rode into the herd leading his ox on a long rope, heading for the bridge. He led the ox onto it, giving him all the time he needed and stopping every few feet.
A few cattle
started to follow them. Eagle Jack held his breath. They shied and turned back.
Tolly waited but it was no use. He led the ox back in among the cattle and tried again. He tried the trick again and again but the herd was having none of it.
The heavy clouds were coming closer now from the west and the sprinkling rain was becoming more frequent.
“Let’s try a different bunch next,” Eagle Jack suggested. “And if they won’t go, we’ll force them.”
He was going to have to do something. Tolly’s herd was coming up behind his now.
So they shifted the cattle, but these new ones were just as sulky as the others. They were having no part of such a strange contraption as a bridge.
Next, Eagle Jack tried forcing them, running the remuda back and forth across the bridge several times and then trotting them onto it ahead of the cattle. The cattle turned tail at the last minute and would have none of it.
It began to rain in earnest.
They tried cutting out a small group and running them from a distance so that they couldn’t turn back but even that didn’t work. Everyone was looking to him, and Eagle Jack was out of ideas.
He was fighting despair, trying to hold on to his temper, and reaching for his sense of humor all at the same time.
“Well, boys, we may have to hold them here until they cross or starve to death,” he said, only half joking.
He was furious. First the snake and getting bucked off a broke horse and now this. Pretty soon he’d have to let Susanna be the boss because the men would take orders from a woman before they would from him.
He had run the length of his rope. His head was as empty of solutions for this problem as the lowering sky was of sunlight.
Eagle Jack Sixkiller, the trail boss who can take a herd to the Brazos, but no farther. Forget about Kansas. Not only would the men scorn him, but so would Susanna.
Susanna.
It floated into his head from the gray clouds overhead that Susanna’s herd was a wet herd. Nothing on the face of the earth would stir range cattle like a bellowing calf.
He reached for his rope.
The Lover Page 16
