Cowboys 08 - Luke

by Leigh Greenwood

  "You easy to carry," he said.

  Valeria imagined that with arms as big as a horse's foreleg, he could pick up a woman two or three times as heavy as Elvira.

  "That was well done," Luke said from behind her. "We may be used to a tradition of service in my country, but the people who serve us become our friends, even part of the family."

  "Sounds like you're overdoing it a bit, but I won't complain if Elvira doesn't."

  It didn't matter what she did; the infuriating man managed to find a way to criticize her. "You ready to go back?"

  "No, but I take it you're ready to leave." "Not giving an inch, are you?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Yes, you do. You're royalty. You couldn't possibly be wrong."

  "According to you, everything I do is wrong."

  "Not everything."

  "You're too generous."

  "No I'm not. I think your class should have been done away with years ago. I don't see any reason for kings and princesses. Or dukes."

  "Then you ought to be pleased they got rid of us."

  "But you managed to keep your money."

  "We deserve something for all the work we've done over the centuries."

  "You mean stealing money from your countrymen and getting them killed in useless wars so you could stuff your pockets with more gold?"

  "Not every ruler steals money or starts useless wars. Many men in my family died to protect our country."

  "Not as many as the peasants."

  "Of course not. You can't have everybody running the country."

  "Of course you can. That's what we do here. Every man has a vote. In that way, we all have a hand in deciding what the government does."

  She wanted to argue with him, but he kept cutting the ground out from under her, producing another piece of information she didn't know about.

  "And if we don't like what they do, we can throw them out and vote for somebody else," Luke added.

  "Do you like the people who run the government? Are they the ones you voted for?"

  "I don't vote."

  "Why not?" Here he was lecturing her on the advantages of the American system and he didn't believe in it enough to participate himself.

  "I move around too much."

  She was certain that wasn't the real reason, but she didn't get a chance to ask what it was. Without warning, he scooped her up and started toward the coach.

  "Come on," he called to Otto. "We've lost too much time already."

  Hans had already run ahead to hold the coach door for Elvira.

  Otto got to his feet reluctantly, muttering irritably. "I don't know why we can't stay here longer."

  "The longer we stay here, the longer before we reach Rudolf's ranch," Luke said. "And the longer we're on the road, the more likely someone will attack us."

  "I'm sure there's no one after us," Otto said, tottering after Luke, still wiping his forehead with his handkerchief.

  "I'm not talking about anybody from your country," Luke said. "We have plenty of people right here who would be only too happy to relieve you of your horses, not to mention all the silver and other valuables you've got packed in those coaches. Then there are the men who haven't seen a woman in weeks, maybe months. They'd be only too happy to take Valeria and Elvira."

  Valeria's blood ran cold. She didn't know much about America, but European men had been stealing women for centuries, always for the same reason. She looked around at the barren waste that stretched for miles north and south along the river. There was nothing to impede her view, no concealment for anyone wanting to attack them.

  "Then I'm glad you chose this route," she said to Luke. "Why?"

  "No one can attack without our seeing them from a long way off."

  "There could be ten Indians between us and the coach, and you wouldn't see them until they attacked."

  Valeria looked around her. Except for one tall cactus, she didn't see anything that could hide a man. "Where can they hide?"

  "An Apache can be in full view and you won't see him."

  "I don't believe you."

  "Hundreds of soldiers used to feel that way. Most of them are dead now. The Apache have fought over this land for hundreds of years. They know it better than your uncle knows your country."

  Valeria wanted to argue, but they'd reached the coach. Luke set her feet on the bottom step, then helped her inside.

  "I'd keep the curtains open in spite of the dust," he advised. "It's going to get hotter."

  Valeria couldn't see how that was possible.

  "When do we eat?" Otto asked.

  "Not until we stop tonight."

  "But I always have lunch," Otto protested.

  "You can have any meal you want as long as you bring your food with you," Luke said as he slammed the coach door shut. "Move out!" he called to the driver.

  Otto opened his mouth to protest, but Valeria heard a whip crack and the coach lurched forward.

  "He has to stop," Otto said, consulting his watch as the coach bumped over the rocky trail. "It'll soon be one o'clock. I always eat at one."

  "You should have eaten more breakfast," Hans said, his tone unsympathetic.

  "I don't eat breakfast," Otto informed him as though it were some sign of superiority.

  "You've got enough fat around your waist to hold you until dinner," Hans said.

  Valeria usually ignored their sniping, but she couldn't stand the prospect of being shut up in the intolerable heat listening to them going back and forth at each other.

  "There's no point in arguing over it," Valeria said. "We're at Mr. Attmore's mercy until we reach Rudolf's ranch. We'll all have to eat more at breakfast."

  "And bring your own canteen of water," Hans said, glaring at Otto.

  "Aren't you hungry?" Otto asked Valeria.

  "A little, but I can wait until evening. I'll have an even better appetite for dinner."

  Chapter Seven

  Luke sat just outside the ring of light. He'd never led a trip like this, if you could call what he was doing leading. He might as well have been a bird they were following for all the influence he had over their behavior.

  He and his men had eaten more than an hour ago, but Valeria's chef had yet to set the first course on the table. Luke was familiar with European customs, but he'd never expected to see anybody hold court in the desert.

  They had dressed for dinner!

  They had tumbled out of that sweltering coach, waited impatiently while their servants set up the two enormous tents they'd brought and unloaded several trunks. Then they'd disappeared inside. Even when he saw the men begin setting up a table, he didn't suspect the full insanity of what they meant to do. He figured that out when he went to Valeria's tent to ask if she'd like to eat with the drivers. Elvira had informed him Valeria was dressing and would sit down to dinner at eight-thirty.

  About a quarter past eight all four emerged from their tents, Hans and Otto in white tie and swallowtail coats, Valeria and Elvira in gowns. They sipped wine while they waited for dinner. Luke had thought Valeria had more sense than to try to maintain European pomp in the desert. He changed his mind when the servants lighted candles and everyone sat down. The chef and his helpers served the first course with all the ceremony Valeria could have expected at home.

  "What the hell are they doing?" Zeke asked. "Having dinner," Luke replied.

  "I can see that. I'm talking about the rest of it." "They changed for dinner."

  "Before, I thought they were crazy. Now I know it." "Isabelle changes for dinner."

  "Not on a cattle drive."

  Luke remembered the early cattle drives to New Mexico. He used to complain about the heat, dirt, hard work, and the fact that Jake never paid them more than token wages. He swore he'd never work for less than top wages and never sweat doing it. Well, he got his top wages, but he was still sweating.

  And not just because of the heat.

  "Why did you take this job?" Zeke asked. "The
money."

  "Is that all you ever think about?"

  "What else is there?"

  "That these fools could get us killed."

  "Their world is dying, and it's scared them to death.

  They're trying to hold on as long as they can."

  "When did you start getting sentimental?"

  "I'm not. You can make a lot of money off people who're scared and rich."

  "How? You planning to hold her for ransom?" "It's a possibility."

  "It'll put the law on your tail again."

  "I can handle it."

  "Chet can't."

  "He shouldn't look for what he doesn't want to find." Zeke cussed, got to his feet. "You don't deserve a brother like Chet."

  "I didn't ask for one. Look, Zeke, I don't want anybody worrying about me. That includes Chet and Isabelle."

  "You try and tell her that."

  "There's no need to tell anybody anything."

  "Why the hell did you ask Hawk and me to help you?"

  "Because you two are the best."

  "That's a lie. You wanted us because you knew we'd bust our asses for you."

  "What's wrong with that?"

  "Didn't Isabelle teach you anything?"

  "What was I supposed to learn?"

  "Nothing," Zeke said, then turned and stalked away. "Nothing at all."

  Everybody expected him to be like his brother. Chet was perfect, or nearly so. He had inherited all the good qualities their parents had to give. When they got around to their second son, they had nothing left. He and Chet looked enough alike to be twins, but inside they were different. There was nothing inside Luke. He didn't feel love, hate, envy, or passion. Like a wild animal, he expected nothing, offered nothing, cared for nothing. It wasn't just that he didn't want to care. He couldn't. He didn't dare let himself.

  That brought him back to V aleria.

  It wasn't that he cared about her. How could he care about a silly woman who dined on gold plate in the desert? He was a realist. He never lay awake thinking of how he would change the world, never had attacks of conscience over things he'd done or things he'd left undone. He took life as it came, wrung out what he could for himself, and moved on. If the people around him got screwed, it was their fault for being stupid, cowardly, weak, whatever excuse they offered for their failure.

  Which brought him back to Valeria.

  In a few years her whole class would be gone. He ought to let them kill each other off. That would finish the job faster, make it easier for everyone. But he wouldn't let anybody kill her, and not just because he'd promised to protect her. This job had an entirely different feel about it, a difference that centered around Valeria. He'd let Hans convince him to wait, to make certain no one else would take the job. He'd even watched her hotel at night, convinced the miners to be quiet when they passed her window. He'd refused Otto's bribe as well.

  He'd let Hans and Valeria get to him. How? Why?

  Hawk came over to where Luke sat. "I don't like it," he said. "We got too much light. Banditos can see us from a hundred miles away."

  Luke knew the light was bound to make people curious, but he doubted most people would attack such a large party. He had made certain the seven drivers were good, dependable men with guns. He could count on Valeria's party for additional help. They might be useless at most things, but aristocrats learned to handle guns practically at birth.

  "They'll run out of fancy food, wine, and candles before we reach the Gila River," Luke said. "Then they'll eat the same as we do-beef, beans, and pork."

  "Many people can hide in those mountains," Hawk said, indicating the mountains about thirty miles away.

  "I've organized the drivers on one-hour watches," Luke said. "We'll sleep out from the camp."

  He usually stayed in the camp, but this time he felt the need for separation. He would sleep the farthest out.

  Hawk and Zeke were notoriously light sleepers. Luke had a sixth sense that warned him if anybody approached. They'd form a nearly impregnable perimeter.

  "I still don't like it," Hawk said. "Indians could be in those mountains."

  The Indian wars had ended a year earlier with the capture of Geronimo. The venerable chief had been sent to Oklahoma, others to Florida. Though some Indians remained in the area, they weren't likely to cause trouble. Luke was more worried about white men. Indians might steal the horses, but they would do it at night without waking anyone. White men wouldn't hesitate to kill to get what they wanted.

  "I'm more worried about what'll happen after we cross the Gila," Luke said. "That's rough country."

  "We got to get there first," Hawk said.

  "We'll get there. You and Zeke find a good lookout."

  "What about you?"

  "I'll wait until they're done."

  "You going to tuck them into bed?"

  "Just make sure they don't stay up so late they keep the crickets awake."

  He wanted to talk with Valeria. Or Hans. They needed to adapt to Arizona. Sitting down to a hot, heavy meal at eight-thirty wasn't the way to start.

  "We leave at dawn tomorrow," Luke said.

  Hawk looked at the group gathered at the table. "Do they know?"

  "They will."

  Still, he felt a reluctance to be hard on Valeria. She had been molded by a different culture, one that would make it difficult for her to understand the life that lay before her. She or her husband would squander their wealth in a fruitless effort to reproduce their former life. By the time they realized the impossibility of doing that, they'd have nothing left. Maybe he could talk with Hans. He knew Valeria wouldn't listen to him. She thought him beneath her.

  He was.

  Valeria put her fork down and leaned back in her chair. She'd eaten too much too fast. If she didn't stop now, she'd be awake half the night. She had made the same mistake as Otto and eaten almost nothing for breakfast. She'd compounded her error by having nothing at midday and no more water than absolutely necessary. She could hardly make herself swallow from Hans's canteen.

  They hadn't reached the campsite Zeke had chosen until just before dark. She had been thinking of food for the last several hours, her tastebuds watering at the thought of the delicacies the chef would have prepared for her dinner. It came as a cruel surprise to find he hadn't started cooking when they arrived. He was in a rage about having to find his own wood, start his own fire, do without enough assistants under these harrowing conditions. He stated flatly it would be impossible to prepare a dessert.

  Luke had invited her to eat with him and the drivers. She had refused. Partly out of pique, but mostly because she didn't trust herself to be able to swallow what Zeke was cooking in that great big pot. It looked disgusting with everything cooked together. Still, she had to admit it smelled good.

  Nothing about dinner went smoothly. The men took much longer to set up the tent than she expected. By the time they finally managed to drive the stakes into the rocky ground and drag the necessary trunks from the wagons, Valeria had lost patience with everyone. Despite a thick canvas covering, the rocky ground made the floor of the tent so uneven she stumbled every time she tried to take more than a few steps.

  Dressing for dinner proved no easier. She had too little space inside the tent and no way to press out the creases in her dress. She emerged looking as if she'd slept in her clothes. It didn't make her feel any better that Hans and Otto looked no better.

  And she felt dirty. An entire day's collection of dust had settled onto her hair and skin. She'd removed as much as she could with a damp cloth, but she still felt unclean. She wanted a bath with lots of hot water in a tub deep enough to soak in.

  Luke had said she could bathe in the river! As if she would do anything so shocking, even though there wasn't a living soul within ten miles. There were actually fish in that water. And frogs, too.

  "I feel much better now," she said as she laid down her napkin.

  Elvira had remained silent during the meal, her gaze continually search
ing the night. Valeria knew the poor girl was petrified of what might be out there. Valeria had never been afraid of the dark, but she'd never been out in it without dozens of men to protect her.

  "A full stomach tends to give one a different perspective on life," Hans said. He continued to be nervous and jumpy, but he'd stopped responding to Otto's jibes.

  "Mine's not full yet," Otto complained. "And I'm not used to doing without dessert."

  "You've eaten enough for two people," Hans observed. "Maybe we ought to eat less. Our supplies won't last forever."

  "I didn't expect they would," Otto said. "We will acquire fresh supplies every third day. Luke and his men may be content to eat that goulash, but I am not."

  "When you speak to Luke, ask about the distance to the next town," Valeria said. "I would love a bath." But she wasn't certain there would be a next town anytime soon. She remembered the vast, flat plains stretches of Texas when they had traveled hundreds of miles without seeing a living soul.

  "We should have invited him to join us," Hans said. "He could have answered all our questions."

  "When did you start inviting servants to join us at table?" Otto asked.