by Nan Ryan
Austin sighed. She didn’t give a damn that he was leaving. He’d come home for a week from the cow hunt, and in that time he’d only been allowed the pleasure of her company on two occasions; lunch at the Wichita Hotel, and dinner last night. But, then, why should she care? Why should a young beauty like Suzette be mine for the taking?
He shook his head. To hell with Suzette Foxworth! She’s a sweet young kid, nothing more. This drive is what I need. A couple of days out, and I’ll forget about her.
While Austin argued with himself, Suzette, riding sidesaddle on her mare Glory, reined her horse in on a hillock nearby and observed the milling herd. Well out of harm’s way, she watched fascinated as the cowboys calmly moved the big herd out, pushing them slowly across the meadows. Shading her eyes, she scanned the men for a glimpse of Austin. He was easy to pick out. Taller in the saddle and much broader of chest than the others, he sat his horse regally.
Suzette smiled. Austin was unquestionably the picture of the handsome, rich cattle baron. Now, while he was unaware of her scrutiny, she could feast her eyes upon his impressive physique. While her gaze took in the powerful chest and bulging muscles of his arms, Austin turned in his saddle. Abruptly he pulled up on the reins of the big gray, and Suzette knew he’d seen her. As he turned his horse, he said something to Tom Capps. Suzette’s breath caught: Austin was riding to meet her. Now there could be no pretending; when he neared her, she smiled disarmingly.
Austin was smiling too, and when he brought his mount alongside hers, he tipped his hat and winked at her. “Honey, I guess you’re just about the prettiest sight I’ve ever seen,” he said.
“You’re quite the dashing figure yourself, Austin.”
“My dear, you make it mighty hard for a man to discharge his duties when you say things like that.” He held out a gloved hand to her. She laid her hand in his and Austin immediately brought it to his lips. Kissing the warm palm, he murmured, “Say the word, darlin’, and I won’t go.”
Suzette snatched her hand away. “Austin Brand, don’t speak such foolishness! What’s gotten into you?”
His eyes registered the rebuff for only a second. Then he smiled at her. “Sorry, Suzette. Forgive me, I was behaving foolishly.”
Now it was her turn to be sorry. “Austin, I didn’t mean…that is, I…” Suzette stammered.
“My dear, I know exactly what you mean. I must be going. Please take care. I’ll see you in three months.” Without further adieu, he spurred his horse and galloped off to rejoin the drive.
“Wait, Austin…you took it the wrong way…Austin…” Suzette called as she nervously twisted the gold chain at her throat. He was too far away to hear her.
Austin was grateful to Suzette. She’d made it clear that she wanted no undue attention from him. And she was right. He was glad she spoke her mind; it would make it easier. She’d be the daughter of his dead friend, that was all. Certainly he cared for her, but like a daughter. He’d watch after her, take care of her, for Blake Foxworth’s sake and for no other reason.
The drive was hard, dangerous work, and Austin worked alongside his men. He stayed in the saddle all day long, and his back ached, his head hurt, and his eyes burned from the ever-present dust kicked up by thousands of hooves. Stragglers had to be forced from the underbrush; danger of stampede was constant. A gunshot or even a clap of thunder could push the skittish mass out of control. And at night, Austin did his part, singing in a low, soothing baritone, lulling the big beasts to sleep.
The drovers grew more weary with each passing week. Austin was weary, too, but not enough to push Suzette Foxworth from his thoughts. He thought about her while he rode in the hot sun, while he lay in his bedroll, his eyes on the starry heavens, and he even dreamed about her golden hair, her brilliant blue eyes, and the lovely figure of this girl he’d known for so long. Try as he might, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Surprised, even alarmed at the hold she had on him, Austin decided to handle the situation in the same way he’d always taken care of things. He’d stay in Abilene, a red-hot town with numerous bars, brothels, dance halls, theaters, and gambling houses where a man could entertain himself and perhaps forget about a girl back home.
It was late July when Austin and his men pushed the long-horns into the corrals outside Abilene. It had been a successful drive with few mishaps. The final tally pleased Austin to no end; losses had been minimal, and the herd was healthy and fatter than when they left Jack County.
Austin contracted for the sale, met with the buyers, and oversaw the exchange. Shouts of relief rose from the dirty, tired cowhands when the last big longhorn clamored into the railroad car.
Austin Brand smiled when he paid his hands for a job well done. To a man, the cowboys headed into town, eager for a bath, a shave, a good time. Austin and Tom Capps watched them depart, shouting and whistling, a couple of the younger ones waving their six-shooters high.
“What are we waiting for?” Tom Capps rolled a cigarette, wetting it with his tongue. “Let’s go raise a little hell, Austin.”
“An excellent suggestion,” Austin responded. “The first thing I want is a shave. This damned beard is itching more every day.”
“That’s not all that’s itching.” Tom Capps grinned and took a drag on his cigarette.
Within the hour, Austin lowered his big, tired body into a wooden tub of hot soapy water. With a glass of whiskey in one hand and a fat Cuban cigar in the other, Austin sighed with pleasure and let the steaming water soothe his tired muscles and cleanse his sunburned skin.
At dusk, Austin headed out for an after-dinner stroll and made his way toward the Alamo Saloon, sidestepping more than a few swaggering, drunken cowhands. Three glazed double doors at the west entrance to the Alamo stood wide open. Austin stepped inside and went directly to the long bar. Large mirrors behind the bar reflected row upon row of liquor bottles. Austin ordered bourbon straight up from the mustachioed bartender and turned slowly to look at the paintings of nudes adorning the walls. A small band of musicians in the corner of the big saloon competed with shouts, laughter, clinking glasses, and jangling spurs.
Three drinks later, Austin picked up the half-empty bottle and made his way to one of the many green felt-covered tables. Nodding to the faro dealer, he took a seat. An hour later Austin was bored with gambling and his eyes were drifting around the smoke-filled room. Soon they were met by a pair of vivid green ones as a curvaceous, milky-skinned woman edged close to his chair. A pretty redhead, she smiled seductively at Austin, her pert mouth curving into a brazen invitation. Austin returned the smile.
Her green satin dress shimmered as the woman wordlessly sat on Austin’s left knee, exposing shapely legs sheathed in silk stockings. As she put a slender arm around his neck and leaned close, the soft green feather of her hat tickled his neck. She touched his face lightly and said sweetly, “Buy me a drink, cowboy?”
“Sure, darlin’.” Austin wrapped an arm around her. He continued to gamble and drink, the redhead perched on his lap, clinging to him while he dropped silver coins down the bodice of her dress each time she gave him a kiss.
Austin cashed in and left the game, the friendly redhead holding his arm and chattering ceaselessly. Although Austin had been drinking heavily all evening, the alcohol affected him not at all. Nor did the pretty woman on his arm.
He sighed and reached into his pocket. Stuffing a generous amount of money down her dress, he kissed her cheek and apologized. “Honey, forgive me, I’m tired. Perhaps tomorrow night. Right now, all I want is some sleep.”
“Well, sure, sugar,” the redhead trilled and kissed his mouth. “You get some shut-eye and when you wake up we’ll have us a time. I’m Shirley and I promise you a night to remember. You won’t forget me, will you, handsome?”
Austin shook his head and unwrapped her long fingers from his arm. “No, ma’am.”
But he did.
Back in his hotel room he stripped and fell into the soft bed. He closed his eyes, certain sleep would foll
ow instantly. Instead, Suzette Foxworth’s lovely face floated before him. He couldn’t remember what Shirley looked like, but he could vividly recall every feature of Suzette’s beautiful face. It was for her he yearned and no other.
It irritated him and it worried him. He needed to change his plans again. He would stay away from Jacksboro for a long time, but not here, not in Abilene; here he’d never get her off his mind. He would go to New York, spend the winter season with the city’s cafe society. New York’s most beautiful and sophisticated ladies would surely make him forget his little country girl.
Austin yawned and turned over. Certain his little problem was solved, he went to sleep instantly. The next day he made arrangements to take the train to New York City.
11
In Jacksboro Anna Woods needed her friend Suzette. Her parents had moved to Fort Worth, and although they promised to return in time for the birth of their next grandchild, Anna went into labor early. On a sweltering night in late July, Anna gave birth to a tiny girl. Suzette moved in to help take care of mother and child.
Perry Woods insisted they call the infant Sunny. Anna kissed her husband and said Sunny would be a perfect name for their beautiful daughter. Fourteen-month-old Josh gently stroked his new sister’s silky hair and squeezed her delicate hand. Only a little jealous of all the attention the new baby was receiving from callers, Josh followed Suzette about the house, certain she still liked him as much as she liked the baby.
It was a wonderful week for Suzette and therefore very lonely for her when she finally went home. Sitting alone on the porch at twilight, she compared her life to Anna’s and felt an ache in her breast. She was woman enough to long for a husband, a home, and children, but she feared it was never to be. She’d not thought about love and marriage since Luke Barnes’s death. She’d not accepted any invitations from young men, though lieutenants from the fort frequently attended church and smiled at her, asking if they could come to call. Cowboys from the surrounding ranches invited her to box suppers and dances, but somehow she never cared to accept their invitations.
She shrugged her slender shoulders and, as so frequently happened, thought of Austin Brand. She missed him; she’d be glad when he came back from Abilene. She smiled, remembering how he’d looked on that last morning. So big and handsome and rugged. Yes, she’d be very glad when Austin got home.
Suzette tucked her long hair under her sunbonnet and pulled on her short white gloves. Stepping from the door of the Echo office, she blinked in the hot September sun, then turned as she heard her name called. From the direction of the Longhorn Saloon, a drover hurried toward her.
“Nate!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up with a smile.
“Miz Suzette.” The old hand swept the soiled hat from his head and came to meet her. “How are you? My, you look pretty.”
“Oh, Nate, it’s so good to see you.” Suzette embarrassed the old man by kissing his weathered cheek. “When did you get back?”
“Why, we just rode in an hour ago. Haven’t been out to the ranch to clean up yet. Pardon my appearance.” He looked down at his dusty denims and sweat-soaked shirt.
“Never mind about that.” Suzette waved her hand. “Did everything go all right? Was the market good? How long did you stay in Abilene? Where’s Austin? Is he in the Longhorn?” She felt mild excitement begin inside her.
“Everything went just fine. I tell you, Mr. Brand’s got the best crew I ever worked with, and he works as hard as his men. I had a great time, felt like a young man again. Why, when we hit Abilene, I—”
“Nate, please,” Suzette interrupted. “Where’s Austin? Will you go in the saloon and get him? I’m anxious to see him.”
Still smiling, Nate said, “He’s not there, miss. No, sir, that Austin, he didn’t stay in Abilene but a couple of days. Now, the rest of us, we—”
“A couple of days? You mean Austin came back before the rest of you? He’s been here in Jacksboro and didn’t—”
“No. He didn’t stay in Abilene; he caught a train and went all the way up to New York City!”
Suzette’s smile disappeared. “New York? Austin’s in New York? But why? For how long? I don’t understand.”
She was more disappointed than she cared to admit.
“Yes’m, that’s what he said. Are you all right Miz Suzette? You look pale.”
“Of course I’m all right.” Suzette forced a smile. “I think it’s grand that he went to New York. He has friends there, and after his tragedy he needs to enjoy himself.”
“That he does. He’s a mighty nice man, and I just hope he’ll find himself a nice lady someday soon and remarry. Yes, sir, I hope—”
“Yes, yes, Nate, I do, too. Come over to the house soon for supper. It’s good to have you back.”
“It’s good to be home,” He grinned.
The next morning Suzette received a short letter postmarked New York City. She recognized Austin’s scrawl immediately.
Dear Suzette,
I am in residence at the Stonely Hotel in New York City. Should you need anything, speak to my foreman, Tom Capps. I’ve instructed him to be of service to you in any way that would be of help. If you need money, see Tom.
I trust you have had a nice summer. I’ve no idea when I’ll be coming home; as you know, I’ve many old friends up here.
Take care.
Warmly,
Austin
Suzette folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. She was hurt and angry. She’d thought Austin would be anxious to return home.
She tore the letter in two and dropped it into a trash can. She’d been foolish to depend on him. She didn’t care how long he stayed away; she could certainly take care of herself.
Autumn came early and with it blue northers and cold, biting winds. The ranch house was never warm enough, and when Suzette was at home, she sat directly in front of the fireplace, a heavy quilt draped over her lap. The days grew short, the nights too long. Suzette was lonely, desperately lonely, and there was a time or two when she strongly considered Anna’s offer to live with the Woodses.
The Christmas holidays came and Perry, Anna, Josh, and baby Sunny were off to Fort Worth to spend the season with Anna’s parents. Anna and Perry begged Suzette to accompany them, but she declined. Alone, she walked into the woods and chopped down a cedar tree, decorating it with popcorn and cranberries. On Christmas Eve she sat staring at the tree. On the table by the worn couch, a letter from Austin Brand remained where she’d tossed it. He had wished her a Merry Christmas and said he doubted he’d be home before spring. Picturing the exciting time he was having in New York, Suzette gritted her teeth and tried not to pity herself.
It didn’t work. Hot tears welled up and overflowed. It was a miserable Christmas, the worst she’d ever had. She twisted her gold locket while the tears slid down her cheeks. She missed her mother and father. She missed Perry and Anna. Josh and Sunny. She missed…she missed Austin Brand. Slowly her shaking hand came up to her face and she sobbed like a heartbroken child.
“Oh, Austin, I need you, I need you so much! How could you leave me all alone like this?”
But by New Year’s her spunk had returned and she was determined never to need Austin Brand or anyone else again. She had her position at the Echo, she had her home, she had friends; she needed nothing more.
Spring swept over the plains in all its glory, and Suzette, wearing an old pair of buckskin pants, a cotton blouse, her hair caught at the back of her neck with the gold clasp, her feet bare, stood bent over a hoe in the newly spaded earth behind her house. Proud of her blossoming garden, she worked tirelessly, chopping away the weeds choking the tender green tomato vines. A sheen of perspiration covered her face and throat and made her shirt stick to her back. The setting sun was a large fiery ball behind her, turning her tangled hair to flame.
Austin Brand dismounted in front of the house. He started to call to Suzette, but then caught sight of her. He started toward her. Still she hadn’t seen him
and still he didn’t call to her. She paused for a moment, the hoe in the crook of her left shoulder, and raised the tail of her shirt to wipe her face.
Austin Brand wasn’t completely certain if he’d been in love with Suzette before. He knew he had felt very protective toward her. And he’d been unmistakably attracted by her beauty. He knew she’d filled his thoughts much too often, that he’d missed her terribly in all the long months he’d been away. He also knew he desired her. But on this warm May evening, watching her silhouetted against the spectacular sunset, he knew. He knew for sure that he loved her. He would always love her.
“Suzette,” he called softly.
She whirled and saw him. She smiled, dropped the hoe, and started toward him, and his heart sank. There was no love or affection in the brilliant blue eyes looking at him. She hadn’t missed him as he’d hoped. He’d spent every day missing her. Now she was walking casually to him as though he’d never been gone. He knew then, just as he knew that he loved her, that he would have to wait, perhaps a long time. She did not love him, of that he was sure. So he watched her walk across the furrows to him and held himself in check, refusing to yield to the burning temptation to run and sweep her into his aching arms. He was older and wiser than Suzette. He could make her his if he played his hand correctly. She was worth the wait. She’d come around in time, and when she did, he’d be there waiting to make her his own. Until then, he’d be as patient as Job.
Austin smiled. “My dear Suzette, how nice to see you again.” She couldn’t know that his heart was drumming loudly against his ribs, or that he was solemnly vowing that one day she would belong to him.
“Austin,” she greeted him warmly, “I’m delighted you’re home. You must tell me all about your visit to New York.”
Austin didn’t see Suzette as often as she would have liked. Occasionally he took her to dinner at the Wichita Hotel, and now and then he called at the ranch. For the most part she saw him only at the Echo office. He was, as he had always been, a real friend, and she knew, should she need anything at all, Austin would see to it. He was also witty and charming and his hilarious tales made her laugh and blush.
