Kiss Of The Night Wind

by Taylor, Janelle

Carrie Sue discarded the cotton petticoat, chemise, and bloomers. Using the bucket of water and washcloth, she bathed as quickly and thoroughly as possible. She. dried herself and pulled on the clean undergarments and dark green dress. She wondered if Miss Carolyn Starns favored darker garments because of her position as a schoolmarm. She knew the dress was plain and sturdy, yet it did nothing to flatter her coloring and figure. But she shouldn’t want to appear beautiful to T.J., or showy to the town council in Tucson. She must present the image of a virtuous and respectable school teacher.

  Delectable odors assailed her nose and her stomach rumbled in hunger. She climbed upon the driver’s box to stuff her things inside her baggage. She smiled when she noticed the case had not been tampered with during the night. If the gunslinger mistrusted her or was playing games with her, he would have searched her baggage while she was asleep. Relief and joy swept over her. She placed her hat on the shotgun seat, ready for use later this morning when the sun’s heat and glare increased.

  Taking her brush, she joined T.J. beneath the trees. He looked her way as she unbraided her hair and brushed it. The fiery mane was long, thick, and wavy, and golden highlights shone in the sunny light. T.J. felt his groin tighten at the ravishing sight before his eyes.

  Carrie Sue rebraided her hair neatly and secured the looped plait to the back of her head as she had done yesterday. When she put aside her brush and looked his way, T.J. was still staring at her. “Is something wrong?” she inquired apprehensively.

  T.J. shook his head and murmured, “Nope.” He returned his attention to his chore. Lordy, she was one tempting female! With that flaming hair unleashed, she looked like an angel imprisoned on earth.

  Carrie Sue grinned as she realized what kind of expression had filled his eyes: desire. Her own body was burning with it. She noticed what he was cooking and asked, “Where did you get those?”

  Without looking up again, he replied, “One of the chickens must have gotten loose during the Apache attack. She was nesting in a thicket, but a coyote got her. Wasn’t a total loss; she left behind three eggs. I fried enough salt pork to stuff inside our last two biscuits so we won’t have to halt at midday to make dinner. Sam gave me six, so we can have two this morning. I can’t wait to reach Tucson and get some good food,” he chatted on nervously.

  “What could be better than fried pork, scrambled eggs, coffee, and biscuits? You’re an excellent cook, Mr. Rogue. I’m going to miss all this attention when we reach Tucson.”

  “Attention is what you’ll get plenty of, Miss Starns,” he muttered, sounding resentful.

  “Not like yours, T.J., not without demands attached.”

  T.J. glanced at her again. “I guess that is a problem for a beautiful lady like you.”

  “It’s nice meeting a real gentleman for a change.”

  T.J. eyed her up and down and shrugged. It might be nice, but it surely was damned hard where she was concerned! “It’s ready.” He dished up her portion of the meat and eggs and placed a warmed biscuit on the plate. He set the coffee cup near her and focused on eating his own share of the meal.

  Feeling happy and relaxed, Carrie Sue devoured the food and sipped on the coffee, from a metal cup which he occasionally used. When they finished the silent meal, she gathered the dishes and carried them to the pump to wash. After rolling up his sleeping bag and collecting his supplies, he joined her there and put them away.

  “I’ll hitch up the team and we’ll be off.”

  The redhead observed the smokey-eyed man as he worked efficiently with the horses and harnesses. He saddled Nighthawk but did not secure his reins to the coach. “Let’s get moving,” he called out.

  Carrie Sue mounted the stage and took her seat beside him. She tied the sun bonnet on her head and placed the pistol nearby. When he handed her his folded blanket to sit on to soften the bench, she smiled and thanked him. She held on while he got the stage and team into motion. The black stallion galloped beside them, on his side of the coach.

  T.J. was aware of the gun on the bench between them, just as he was aware that she hadn’t slept with it. Since she knew who and what he was, why did she trust him so fully? Why was she at ease in his company? Not many women would strip, bathe, and change clothes within a hundred yards of a total stranger, even with a stagecoach between them. Maybe she was one of those women who was attracted to dangerous men, to adventurous rogues. No, he concluded, she wasn’t like that. He was pleased that she hadn’t complained one time about the heat, dust, dangers, food, or hardships of their journey. He couldn’t figure her out, and that astonished him.

  The wind tugged at their hats and clothes. Yet, he didn’t think there was any danger of a sandstorm. He glanced at the benches on the sides of the slopes where countless cacti grew. Some places were so abundant with it that crosscountry travel was impossible for man or beast. Everything around them seemed to warn people to stay out of this harsh countryside or risk a terrible death. It was rugged terrain: hot, dry, and hostile to everyone except the Indians and critters who knew how to survive in it.

  They traveled in silence until midday, when they halted to rest the horses and eat the fried salt pork in biscuits, washed down with water from his canteen. For a short time, she vanished behind bushes to the right of the coach while he did the same to the left. When the journey continued, he almost hated to reach their destination, knowing she and their circumstances would alter drastically. Once she was in town, the rough edges which had surfaced briefly with him would be forced to disappear. Again, she would become the sedate lady he had met at breakfast at the way station, and his fantasy would end.

  Carrie Sue hated to reach Tucson today, knowing this stimulating adventure with T.J. Rogue would be over and she probably would never see him again. She was tempted to try to prolong his visit in town, but was afraid to do so. What could come of it? Nothing. He was a drifter, and she had to settle down, settle down safely and permanently. But she longed for more time with him.

  As she gazed out over the desert terrain, tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t help but feel that she would be losing something special when they parted, that she would never forget him or cease wanting him. They were a good match; they could grow, change, and mature together, but she could not afford to entice him. She could cause him grave trouble, and he could do the same for her. Fate, cruel fate, was ruining her life again. Every time a glimmer of hope and beauty entered her life, vindictive fate would appear to show her the bleak reality of her destiny, her destiny to be an outcast, to have nothing and no one for very long. Bitterness chewed at Carrie Sue’s soul. It wasn’t fair! But she had to accept it.

  Maybe, just maybe, one day they would meet again, meet when there were no threats to their relationship. If she prayed real hard and was very good, perhaps God would answer her prayers.

  T.J. could almost smell the troubled air which surrounded the woman beside him. She was watching the passing landscape as if she were taking a ride to the gallows. Why were tears glistening in her lovely eyes? Why were her shoulders slumped in dejection? Why was he so afraid to ask those disturbing questions and to offer her help to solve her problems? He wasn’t a coward or a weakling, but Lordy she scared him! Who was this contradiction beside him? What was in her past? Could he allow himself to get involved with her and those dark shadows?

  The ground became drier, sandier, and rockier. In most spots, vegetation was sparser than it had been along their journey. Mesquite was laden heavily with green and yellow pods like cleverly decorated Christmas trees. Clusters of white flowers topped the uplifted arms of the giant Saguaro cactus. Some were over two hundred years old, over fifty feet high, and weighed more than the stage. Mountains appeared to form a distant ring around them. Dry washes occasionally crossed the road to remind travelers of the flash flood threat.

  In some places, the road was narrow and winding, often causing trees and bushes to slap their limbs against the coach. Several times a white sea of blooming yuccas stretched for miles besid
e and beyond them. On some rolling hills, cacti stood like green soldiers at attention, ready and eager to defend their terrain against invasion. Most of the wildflowers, trees, bushes, and plants were in full bloom; their reds, golds, blues, yellows, pinks, whites, oranges, and purples fused into a blanket of color to make Spring the desert’s most beautiful season.

  Tucson loomed on the horizon. Along one mountain range west of town, three peaks rose higher than others and reminded T.J. of teepees without poles out the top. It was one of the markers which had guided travelers to this area before the road had been cleared. “We’ll be there soon, Carolyn. Do you need anything before we ride into town?”

  “No,” she replied in a hoarse tone. “I’m fine, thanks, just a little nervous. I’ve only spoken to these people through the mail. What if they don’t like me? And refuse to hire me?”

  T.J. sent her a smile of encouragement. “How could anyone not like you and want you?” he chided softly, touched by her vulnerability.

  Carrie Sue bravely fused her gaze to his. “I’ll miss you,” she rashly confessed, then averted her eyes and scolded herself. “You saved my life and took good care of me. Thanks, T.J.”

  “I’ll miss you too,” he replied. “I’ll…be in town for a while, if you get a hankering to spend time with a…real gentleman again.” Carrie Sue grinned. “That’s much better,” he murmured, pleased with his affect on her.

  It was three o’clock and the town ahead seemed quiet. Later, it would probably get rowdy when the cowboys and miners drifted into town for the evening. From reading Carolyn’s notes, Carrie Sue knew that Tucson was situated on the Santa Cruz River, in a wide valley which was rimmed by mountains and surrounded by desert. In the latter seventeen hundreds, Tucson had been a presidio of the Spanish Army. Today, it was the territorial capital, and had existed under four different flags: the Spanish, Mexican, Confederate, and United States.

  Carrie Sue called the brunette’s diary to mind and tried to remember all Carolyn had written about this town. As a teacher, she should know such things. As a desperate fugitive, they could be vital to her.

  The town had sprang up around the presidio of San Agustin del Tucson which had been built in 1775 by Hugo O’Connor of the Royal Spanish Army. Since that year, men and women from many countries and all walks of life had added to her history: Indians, soldiers, padres, Mexican colonials, cowboys, miners, gamblers, outlaws, merchantmen, prostitutes, wives, children, and countless others.

  As they neared town, the stage passed adobe huts and houses, their sunbaked mud blocks held in place by strawlaced mortar, some with light stucco surfaces. Other homes, probably those of Anglos, were built of wood and most had lengthy porches to keep out as much sun as possible. There were barns, lean-tos, rough corrals, outhouses, and a few small stores. The ground was dry and dusty and little vegetation grew around the homes. She noticed a heavy use of dark stone which T.J. told her came from nearby Sentinel Peak, meaning “dark mountain,” which gave Tucson its name.

  The town was much larger and more settled than she had imagined. It seemed to spread out over a great distance in the valley. They passed two cheap cantinas which were silent this early in the day. They passed Mission Lane which led across farmlands to the Convento of San Agustin. She was amazed by the lovely townhome of rancher Francisco Carrillo, and asked T.J. how he knew who owned it.

  “I’ve been in and out of this area more than a dozen times. I’ve watched her grow from a hole in the desert to a real town. I probably know as much about this area as I do any other. When you get settled in, you might enjoy me showing you the surrounding area. You certainly don’t want to visit such secluded terrain without a gentleman guide.”

  T.J. described the interior of the Carrillo home with its mesquite and pine beams and its saguaro-ribbed ceilings. “Maybe you can visit it when he comes to town on business. I surely was impressed.”

  “How did you meet him?” she asked eagerly, not daring to make a quick acceptance of his polite offer to be her guide. She feared she couldn’t allow “Miss Carolyn Starns” to be seen in his company.

  “Did a little job for him years ago. Look over there.” He told her about the El Ojito, an artesian spring which had supplied Tucson with water since the Spanish Colonial days. He pointed out Casa del Gobernador, a breathtaking home built by Jose Maria Soza over twenty years ago. They passed Calle de La India Triste, a street meaning “the sad Indian girl.”

  “The Garrett office is near Calle de la Guardia and Calle Real. We’ll be there shortly. I guess you’ve noticed the attention we’re getting,” he hinted.

  Carrie Sue had been too busy staring at the enormous adobe fort which stood before them to take note of the crowd gathering beside and behind the stage. She knew the people’s curiosity and attendance had nothing to do with a slightly tardy schedule. She and the man near her were the center of attention. She discarded her study of the Presidio to focus on her task.

  T.J. reined in the team before the stage office. Men hurried outside, questions spilling rapidly from their mouths at the ominous sight. The handsome man climbed down from the driver’s box and helped Carrie Sue to the ground.

  Sheriff Ben Myers, whose office was next door, heard the commotion and joined the crowd. T.J. related their misadventures to the gaping men. Myers introduced himself and said he’d take a look at the bandits inside the coach to see if any of them had prices on their heads. Before doing so, he sent for the undertaker.

  The thirteen bodies were unloaded and laid out on the plankway in front of Garrett’s office. Ben Myers checked each man and said, “Far as I know, three of ‘em have rewards posted. I’ll check on the others.”

  “No hurry, Sheriff, I’ll be in town for a while,” T.J. informed him.

  “I’ll alert the Army about those Apaches. Until March we didn’t have much trouble with ’em after Jeffords persuaded Cochise to settle down. Some of ‘em riled the Mexicans and did some raiding nearby. Governor Safford got Jeffords fired last month ‘cause he couldn’t control ‘em, and the Army’s to move ‘em soon to New Mexico. The Apaches are real mad. I got news a band had jumped the reservation with that Geronimo. Maybe they just needed supplies to get ‘em across the border.”

  T.J. knew that Cochise had died two years ago and his body had been buried in a secret place in his beloved Chiricahua Mountains. T.J. remembered Geronimo and doubted that great warrior would flee to Mexico. The Indian agent Tom Jeffords was about the only white man the Apaches trusted, but Tom’s hands were tied by government ropes.

  A nice looking businessman joined them, and the crowd parted to let him move about as he desired. Even the noise quieted. “I heard the news, Ben. Did they get my gold shipment?”

  Carrie Sue eyed the man closely, and took an instant dislike to him. He had brown eyes and brown hair; and his clothes were costly, clean, and neatly ironed though the day was hot and the hour late. She realized he was a man of power, wealth, and status…like the northern Carpetbagger who had stolen their Georgia farm and the Hardings who had slain her parents and stolen their Texas ranch. He noticed the bodies, but made no comments or apologies for the destruction he had caused. His only interest was his gold! “Sir, you are to blame for this slaughter of good people.” She bravely scolded. “The Garrett line is not suppose to carry such perilous baggage. It was your gold which lured those beasts to attack us. I shall file a complaint with the company.”

  The middle-aged man looked her over, then smiled. “You must be Miss Carolyn Starns, our new school teacher. We’ve been expecting you. I’m Martin Ferris. I own a ranch and silver mine nearby, and I’m head of the town council which summoned you.”

  Carrie Sue’s heart lurched in panic. She could not make an enemy of this important man, important to her new beginning here. She searched for her lost poise and a safe way to disentangle herself. “Why would such a responsible man encourage the stage company to break its rules and endanger so many lives?” she inquired, her tone softened.

&nb
sp; “My gold shipment was suppose to be a secret and it’s gravely needed here for expansion. Since everyone knows Garrett doesn’t haul mail or strongboxes, we thought the gold and passengers would be perfectly safe this one time. We have men who won’t accept paper dollars for skills or goods, scared the government might back down on its promise to rebuy them with gold. I traded silver from my mine for that chest of gold so I can loan it to our local bank. I’ll have the sheriff investigate who revealed its presence to those outlaws. He’s the one to blame for this bloody attack. I hope you weren’t injured.”

  Carrie Sue cautioned herself to behave as Miss Carolyn Starns. “I’m fine, thanks to this kind gentleman,” she remarked, nodding to T.J.

  Martin Ferris glanced at the gunslinger, then told the redhead, “There’s no need for a lady to endure a situation like this, so I’ll have someone escort you to Mrs. Thayer’s boarding house. We can meet and talk in the morning after you’ve rested and unpacked. If we see eye-to-eye, I’ll hire you after our talk.” To her ebon-haired companion, he said almost coldly, “I’ll have to reward you for saving Miss Starns and my gold. I’m surprised to find you’re such an honest man.”

  “Your gold isn’t worth dying for, Ferris, or rotting in jail over,” T.J. replied in a casual tone, which concealed his past trouble with this man. He didn’t like the way Martin Ferris was observing Carolyn or how the man had spoken to her. Too, there was something strange about the attempted theft of a “secret” shipment.

  Two men gathered the bags which Carrie Sue pointed out and she followed them to the boarding house, after thanking T.J. again for saving her life. One of the men spoke privately with Mrs. Thayer—as he had done with Martin Ferris—before she showed Carrie Sue to her new home. It was a lovely set of two rooms which received neither the morning nor afternoon sun, which meant they would be cooler day and night.

  The woman said there was a tub and pump in the water closet down the hall and informed Carrie Sue that supper was served promptly at six each evening, with breakfast at seven and dinner at twelve. “I’m sure after days on a hot stage you’ll be wanting to get scrubbed first. The food and lodgings are good here, Miss Starns, so I know you’ll enjoy living at my place.”