As Zeke watched Hen Randolph and his boys ride down the main street of Tombstone, gloom settled inside him. He’d miss Jordy and Adam. They were nice boys, good workers, fun to have around. Gardner was in jail awaiting trial on attempted murder charges. The sheriff would lose his job once the citizens of Benson learned of his behavior, and the four other men would spend the next few months in jail for attempting to steal horses. With all the loose ends tied up, there was no reason for Josie to stay any longer. All she had to do was pick up her wagon, and she could come back to Tombstone or head south to Bisbee.
“Are you sure the sheriff will notify me when Gardner goes on trial?” Josie asked.
“He will as long as he knows where you’re staying,” Zeke said.
Josie’s gaze narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“It won’t be a problem if you stay in Tombstone, but if you go to Bisbee, he’s got to know where to find you.”
Josie grabbed his arm and turned him to face her. “Are you telling me I have to stay here in Tombstone or go to Bisbee?”
“I’m not telling you anything,” Zeke protested. “I’m just trying to help you—”
Josie swung her purse at him, hitting him on the shoulder. “You’re trying to get rid of me.”
Zeke tried to grab her purse, but she yanked it out of reach. “I’ve never tried to get rid of you.”
She switched her purse to her left hand and hit him on the other shoulder. “You think you can take advantage of me and then shove me off this way?”
Zeke was losing his grip on the situation. Aware that people on the street were beginning to stare, he grabbed her purse before she could hit him again. “I’m not trying to shove you off.”
Ignoring him, Josie punched him in the stomach.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m going to marry you if I have to drag you in front of the preacher myself.”
Zeke was so shocked at her words that Josie was able to land two direct hits before he had enough presence of mind to take hold of her wrists. “Do you know what you just said, or are you so angry the words are just tumbling out?”
Josie struggled unsuccessfully to break his hold on her wrists. “I don’t care if you can do everything better than I can, that’s no reason to push me away.”
Zeke broke out laughing. “I’m not trying to push you away. I’m trying to keep from getting killed.”
“Lady, do you need some help?”
Zeke became aware that three men, all scowling at him, had come up to them. “I’m the one who needs help,” he said. “I’m trying to convince her I love her before she kills me.”
“Looks to me like you’re barking up the wrong tree, mister,” one of the men said.
“Of course I love him,” Josie told the man. “Do you think I’d hit him if I didn’t?”
The man scratched his head and turned to Zeke. “You understand what she’s talking about?”
Being careful to keep his hold on her wrists, Zeke managed to fold Josie into his embrace. “Yeah, I think I do.”
“Prove it,” the first man said. “See if she’ll let you kiss her without scratching your eyes out.”
“Don’t you dare,” Josie said, eyes wide. “Not in the middle of the street with everybody watching.”
“I’ve got to,” Zeke said, feeling a devilish satisfaction. “You don’t want these nice men to think I’m a liar.”
“I don’t care what they think. If you dare—”
Zeke knew there was only one way to end this. He bent down and kissed her. Josie struggled for all of a second before throwing herself enthusiastically into the kiss.
“I guess he was right,” the first man said. “Hell, we lose more good dancers that way.”
“There,” Suzette said when the telegraph operator finished sending the telegram to her sister. “Now all we have to do is meet her when she reaches Benson.”
“Are you sure about this?” Hawk asked. “She may hate Arizona. We don’t even have a place for her to sleep.”
Suzette wondered why she’d ever hesitated to let herself fall in love with Hawk. He was the most thoughtful man she’d ever known. “If she hates Arizona, she can go back to Quebec. If she decides to stay, she can have one of the bedrooms. I’ve grown rather fond of sleeping under the stars.”
Hawk’s frown deepened. “I’m going to talk to Zeke about building more rooms, but that will take weeks.”
Suzette slipped her arm around Hawk’s waist and turned him toward the door leading to the street. “I’ve never been as happy as I have been sleeping out with you and the horses. I wouldn’t care if I had to do it for the rest of my life.”
Hawk’s frown melted away. “We’ll get started building right away.”
“Don’t do it on my account. I like having you to myself.”
They emerged from the comparative gloom of the Western Union office to the brilliant sunshine of an Arizona afternoon. Suzette decided it was an appropriate metaphor for her life. Hawk was certainly the center of her world, the light of happiness that had illumined the dark corners and banished unhappiness. She knew there would be dark times ahead, but as long as she had Hawk by her side she could endure anything.
With a loud squawk of protest, the yellow grosbeak flew from its perch inside the wagon and came to a fluttering halt on the outstretched limb of a Fremont cottonwood. Angrily it trilled its irritation at the humans who had disturbed its rest and the quiet of the late afternoon. The sun was sinking over the Santa Rita Mountains in the west, time for all nature to rest. What were these creatures doing, laughing and splashing through the sun-warmed waters of the San Pedro River? Even the gray hawk had stopped circling overhead.
Joining with its neighbors, who were equally unhappy at having their rest interrupted, the little grosbeak angrily hopped from one branch to another, scolding the humans for making a ridiculous amount of noise and waking the mules from their afternoon snooze. As they extricated the wagon from the brush, something caused them to burst into laughter, sending a foolish vermilion flycatcher streaking into the night sky looking for a new roost.
Finally the noisy humans and their mules left the river and headed into the open countryside. The grosbeak flew to a higher limb and squawked a final complaint to hurry the intruders on their way, but they didn’t seem aware they’d upset the quiet of the evening or deprived him of his resting place. They rode four abreast, talking and laughing like they were the only people in the world.
Gradually the sound of their laughter and the squeak of the wagon wheels died away until silence reigned once more. Even the river seemed to have slowed its flow. The grosbeak found a suitable limb in a willow thicket and settled in for the night. He glanced up to see the four figures still tightly grouped silhouetted against the setting sun. A final burst of laughter floated on the evening air before all fell silent. The evening shadows had brought peace to the San Pedro River Valley.
The grosbeak tucked his head under his wing and slept.
The Mavericks Page 31
