"Then what?"
"He'll move on to his next job."
"Just like that?"
"Why shouldn't he?"
She couldn't think of a reason, but she couldn't understand how he could just turn his back after being willing to risk his life for her. She didn't see how her life could be so important and his count for so little.
Then she understood. It wasn't her life at all. It was his reputation. His honor as a gunfighter. But having understood that only made her feel worse.
"You think we ought to do what he says?" she asked.
"I don't see that we have any choice."
Her laugh was humorless. "Nor do I. I expect we'd better get to bed. I intend to eat breakfast tomorrow."
"And I intend to see the chef finds something to feed Otto at noonday. If he's in the same mood tomorrow as today, I'll kill him before nightfall." He paused. "Aren't you coming to bed?"
"In a minute."
"Goodnight, your highness. Don't stay up too long."
It would probably be better if she stayed awake all night. Then she would sleep through some of the interminable day. When her family had gone on vacations to the Greek Islands, Marrakesh, or Tangiers, the native people had taken naps after luncheon to escape the heat of the day. Some people in Bonner did the same. It was probably a good idea.
Besides, she felt too full of food to go to sleep, and she wanted to enjoy the coolness of the evening. Being outside in the dark was a new experience for her, but she felt safe as long as she could see the light from the fires. The trees along the river looked dark and menacing, but bright moonlight bathed the plain, the foothills, and the mountains. It was an unfamiliar and forbidding landscape, but it didn't frighten her.
Luke was nearby.
She didn't want to think about him-he made her question too much-but she couldn't stop. Was her family as bad as his? Were they two sides of the same coin, one looking better only because of its setting? Disturbed by her thoughts, she tried to come up with ways to make the food last longer, ways to make the journey as quick and easy as possible, but she couldn't focus on anything but his comments about her family, about the things her family would have done-had done according to Hansto preserve their throne. If he was no worse than she, then she had no right to question his advice or scorn his opinions.
Something inside whispered that her entire existence had been a sham. But she couldn't accept that. If she wasn't a princess, what was she? A figment of her own imagination. Could she exist without substance or purpose?
Everything inside her cried out against such an appraisal. She was somebody, she did have a purpose, she wasn't imaginary. She did exist.
But if she wasn't a princess anymore, who was she? What was her purpose?
Luke nearly bumped into Zeke.
"That was a clever way to handle them," Zeke said, sarcasm dripping from each word. "I'm sure they can hardly wait to cooperate."
"Shut up!" Luke snapped.
"I agree they're just about the most worthless human beings I've ever seen, but you can't keep carrion from rotting."
"I'm not trying to keep them from rotting. I'm just trying to keep them alive."
"You're doing more than that, brother."
"Don't call me brother."
"Adopted brother, " he said, caressing the words in a way that made a mockery of their meaning.
"To hell with you!"
"Isabelle wouldn't like that."
Luke wanted to say to hell with Isabelle! but the words wouldn't come up as far as his throat. No matter how low he sank, that part of his life was too sacred to curse. "They're so caught up in their fantasy world, they can't see the reality around them. They're too afraid to admit things have changed, that nothing is the way it used to be."
"Otto's not afraid of anything," Zeke said. "Elvira is afraid of everything."
"She wouldn't be if you'd stop terrorizing her."
"I'll stop terrorizing her if you'll stop coddling the princess."
"Her name is Valeria. When have I coddled her?"
"I heard you got the miners to be quiet when they passed her window."
"I was trying to annoy her."
"That's a strange way to annoy someone."
"If you're trying to say something, spit it out and get to bed. Tomorrow will be worse than today."
"Don't let yourself go soft on her. Her kind will never see people like us as anything except servants." "You mean slaves, don't you?"
Zeke's features hardened. "I know what it's like to be thought of as worth less than a good milk cow. To her we're peasants to work in the field, servants to fetch and carry, so much cannon fodder to die on the battlefield. She'd never consider marrying one of us."
Zeke's words blindsided Luke. The idea of marrying anyone, least of all someone like Valeria, was so preposterous his anger evaporated, and he laughed. "If that's what you think, you've been in the sun too long. Remind me to ask Valeria if she's got an extra parasol."
"Make a joke if you want," Zeke said, "but I've worked with you on more than one job. This one's different. Maybe you're not going sweet on her, but whatever it is will put us in danger if you don't watch out."
"I'll watch out. I don't want to lose my hide any more than you do."
"Sometimes I think that's exactly what you want," Zeke said. He turned and walked off.
Luke was at a loss to understand Zeke's meaning. He had done everything he could to make certain he had the edge on anyone who might come up against him. He took great pride in having been wounded only twice in his career, neither time seriously. He sometimes took chances that might seem overly dangerous to someone else, but he'd learned long ago that doing the unexpected was often the safest way out of a difficult situation.
He had an uneasy feeling that he would need all of his expertise on this trip. Valeria was the wrong kind of person for Arizona. He could see no logical reason why an ex-princess with her wealth would want to live in such an out-of-the-way place. He didn't know much about fine china, silver flatware, and crystal goblets-he'd been uninterested when Isabelle tried to teach the boys about such things-but he knew the money represented by her belongings would have supported a small town for several years.
His instincts had served him well over the years. The minute he'd set eyes on Valeria, they had told him this job didn't feel right. He should have kept going when he walked out of her hotel room. He could think of no reason why he'd let Hans talk him into staying. Or why he had talked three other men out of accepting Otto's offer. He could talk about pride and reputation all he wanted, but he knew what made this time different.
Valeria.
He should have been furious at her. And he was. He should have scorned everything she stood for. And he did. He should have lost patience with her ignorance and reluctance to make even minimal changes in her ritual. And he had. He should have turned his back, walked out, and left her high and dry.
He hadn't.
It would have been the same as abandoning children. They knew nothing about the new world they had entered. They were trying to live, act, and think as they always had. While that was understandable up to a point, anyone could see they would have to make substantial alternations in every aspect of their lives.
At times Luke wondered if it was fear that made them hold on to the past so grimly. They'd always been in control, but now that was the one thing they didn't have.
Hans accepted the fact that they'd lost their source of power, but he expected the old-world traditions to be perpetuated. Luke couldn't be sure what Otto thought. He figured he was one of the opportunists to be found about any court, clinging to the past because it provided him an opportunity to pluck rich rewards without having to break a sweat.
Then there was Valeria. In a way she was the most obvious and at the same time the most enigmatic. She'd been raised to provide her husband a loyal consort, to bear his children, to be an ornament to his position, and to accept all of that without question. No thin
king required. Individuality discouraged. Conformity rewarded.
Yet Luke was certain she'd inwardly disliked being treated like a priceless jewel to be taken out for display and tucked safely away when she wasn't needed. Now she'd been cast out of her familiar setting without any preparation for her new life.
It was as if she'd been kept in the dark her whole life and was suddenly brought into blinding light. No wonder she couldn't see clearly. Even familiar things would have a new meaning. She must feel fear, a reluctance to venture too far. At the same time she would feel curiosity, a desire to explore the uncharted.
Valeria was an innocent standing on the edge of great discovery. Great care had to be exercised to make certain she didn't fall and do permanent injury before she had a chance to run.
Nice, idealistic, altruistic. Isabelle would have loved it. It was just the kind of thing she'd tried to pound into the boys during the few years they'd all been at the ranch. Apparently she'd been successful. All but three of them were back in Texas, living within a day's ride of each other, raising families, becoming the solid citizens Isabelle had envisioned when she started out from Austin to find homes for eight incorrigible orphans.
Luke's brother, Chet, had believed. Maybe it worked for him. Luke didn't know. He hadn't been back to the ranch since he'd left more than fifteen years ago. Chet had been able to escape the curse of their blood. Luke hadn't.
Which didn't explain why he should suddenly want to save a woman who'd lived an equally useless and selfish life. Valeria used other people without regard for their feelings or well-being. She lived off the toil of others and considered herself more praiseworthy because of it. At least he only used people. He knew he was worse than they were.
He didn't understand why he should care about this woman's fate. She was beautiful, but he could have all the beautiful women he wanted. He hadn't seen any fine inner character to preserve and liberate. No great intellect, no grand passion to accomplish something, no enduring love lost and longed for. No reason why he should treat her any different from any other woman.
But he had. He could only assume it was a quirk. Maybe one of Isabelle's lessons was trying to take hold. Yet it didn't really matter why he was acting so uncharacteristically. The job would come to an end and he would leave Valeria to her fate. He would have nothing to do with whether she changed or remained the same.
Yet he knew that if she didn't change, he would be disappointed. And that in itself was strange. He was never disappointed in people because he never expected anything of them.
"They've finally stopped washing those damned dishes," Zeke called. "Now we can get some sleep."
"You shouldn't be close enough to be bothered by the noise," Luke called back.
"An army troop could ambush us under cover of that racket," Zeke replied.
Valeria felt as though she hadn't slept at all. She'd asked Elvira to wake her at four o'clock. She'd expected to need at least an hour to get dressed, and it had taken every minute of that time. Bathing from a basin had been difficult enough, but it had been nearly impossible to see anything in the dim light of the one oil lamp Luke allowed them. At home sunlight pouring in through tall windows was supplemented by banks of gaslights, which she preferred to the new electric lights other rulers were putting in their homes.
The tent had no windows. The air felt heavy and muggy. By the time Elvira had finished helping her dress, Valeria was hot. She was relieved to be able to go outside. The coolness of the night still lingered.
She laughed to herself when she saw Otto, appearing far from his usually impeccably attired self, hovering impatiently near the table set for breakfast. He caught sight of her and came forward.
"The chef is furious," he said. "He's threatening to leave."
"Why?"
"There was a rattlesnake in one of his pots this morning, and a creature in his shoe that looks something like a shrimp but is called a scorpion and is very poisonous. The driver said it happens all the time. He said we ought to check our shoes every morning before we put them on."
Another reason to dislike this new land. She knew about snakes. She hadn't known about scorpions.
Hans emerged looking as nervous and ill put together as Otto. Valeria wondered if he calmed down even during his sleep. He seemed about to jump out of his skin.
"I'm glad it's almost too dark to see one's hand in front of one's face, your highness," he said to Valeria. "I have no doubt I make as sad an appearance as Otto."
"I couldn't even shave," Otto complained. "There wasn't enough hot water, and I couldn't see well enough to keep from cutting myself."
"You'll have plenty of light when we stop at midday," Luke said. "And plenty of water if the river doesn't go underground."
Valeria jumped. She disliked his habit of seeming to appear out of nowhere. She didn't know how he could walk on this rough ground without making a sound. She had trouble just keeping her feet under her.
"How can it do that?" she asked. She had made up her mind to learn everything she could about this new country. It was going to be her home, so she might as well get used to it.
"The riverbed is made up of loose gravel. When there's not much water, there's not enough to fill up all the holes below the surface."
"Then how do you get water?" Otto asked.
"You dig for it."
"Like a well," Valeria said. She knew about wells. There had been an old one in one of the castle gardens.
"Something like that," Luke said. "Now I suggest you eat your breakfast. Your cook has to wash up and pack everything before he can follow."
"Why don't you have breakfast with us?" Valeria asked Luke.
"I've already eaten."
"What?" Otto asked.
"Salt pork with biscuits and jam."
Valeria could tell Otto was about to say that wasn't decent food for anyone, even an American. She'd had enough arguing, especially about things that couldn't be changed. "Then you can have some coffee with us," she said. "And answer our questions."
Chapter Nine
"I can't stay long."
Valeria could tell Luke would have preferred to refuse her invitation. He acted as if he'd accepted as a way to get an unpleasant job done more quickly. Regardless of what might be in his mind, it wasn't flattering. Because of her position and wealth, she was used to having men practically fall over each other to please her. She had been spoiled by attention her whole life.
"Didn't your cook listen when I said to cut back until he could buy more?" Luke asked.
"Of course he did," Otto said. "This is barely half what he usually serves."
The meal consisted of coffee, rolls with butter and jam, eggs cooked with bits of bacon, a goulash made of beef and potatoes, sausages, big chunks of bread, and cheese. To Valeria, whose uncle insisted upon a table loaded with several hot and cold meat dishes, and hot and cold fruit, this looked almost Spartan. "You said we couldn't eat again until evening."
"Do you plan to eat everything on this table?" Luke asked.
Valeria wasn't sure what he was asking. It was obvious they couldn't eat it all.
"The chef prepares food in such quantities that everyone can eat as much as he or she wants of any particular dish," Otto said.
"But you can leave a dish untouched if you've had enough?" Luke asked.
"Well, yes."
"Starting tonight, your cook can prepare what he likes, but there'll only be as much as will be eaten at that meal."
Hans held Valeria's chair. She sat down with what was perilously close to a plop. "Please be seated," she said. "You, too," she added when Luke appeared to hold back.
"Don't force him," Otto said. "He probably feels uncomfortable because he's not dressed."
The fact that he left off the word properly didn't take any sting out of the remark. Valeria's gaze flew from Otto to Luke.
He surprised her yet again. "I'd be delighted to join you," he said, pulling up a chair next to Otto. "I hope my dirt and stink
doesn't put anyone off his food. I didn't bathe this morning. But then it's not unusual for me to go more than a week without taking a bath or changing my clothes."
Valeria realized he was saying this for Otto, who reacted with horror and disgust just as Luke must have expected. Elvira looked at him as though were some kind of wild animal momentarily allowed to roam among civilized people but who might at any moment revert to his natural state and savage them all. Hans regarded Luke with a kind of wonder Valeria couldn't interpret.
She wondered how much of what Luke said she could believe. Most of it, probably, but she wouldn't put it past him to enjoy mocking their ignorance and prejudices. And her midnight decision to look at everything American in a different light told her that much of her attitude toward America and Americans was built on ignorance and prejudice.
"It's not a good idea to shave and splash yourself with perfumed water when you're sleeping out," Luke added. "It attracts insects. They love the sweet smell. You'll be covered with bites. Then there's the wild animals, especially the big ones."
"What big ones?" Otto asked.
"Coyotes, wolves sometimes. But it's the cats I worry about."
"Cats?"
"Mountain lions," Luke explained. "They mostly live on deer and mountain bighorns, but they love the smell of perfume. It's like a drug. They can hardly keep from coming up to take a sniff or two."
Valeria knew Luke was deliberately trying to frighten them. He had succeeded with Elvira, who had turned white. She didn't know about Hans. His expression hadn't changed. Otto fidgeted uncomfortably. He doused himself daily with nearly as much scent as a woman.
Cowboys 08 - Luke Page 10
