The Lover (18 page)

The very thought made her heart ache, but she pushed the hurt aside.

The arrangements had already been made. She would go on ahead as soon as possible to take care of paying off the banker's mortgage and to see how Brushy Creek had fared. As soon as the cattle were physically in the hands of the buyer, Maynell, Jimbo, and the men would spend some time in Abilene and then come on the next train or the next, shipping the wagon and the remuda back south with them. The men would do whatever they wanted. Most would come south on the train.

Eagle Jack had made an offhand mention of making a lone, leisurely ride back to Texas, racing
Molly whenever he wanted along the way. Visualizing that made her heart ache, too, because she wanted to be riding beside him.

But Eagle Jack was a big boy who had made this trip before. He could find his way home without her.

Where was his home? All he'd ever said was that he was from up east of Waco, even when she'd hinted to know more.

That was another completely remarkable thing she'd never realized until that moment: she was normally so closemouthed about herself and her past and her present business that she confided nothing. With Eagle Jack, she had been as garrulous as a pathetic, lonely old woman, blurting out things she thought she'd forgotten, things that were much better off unsaid.

What
was
it about him that wreaked such havoc on her?

Maybe his looks. There he was, the muscles of his shoulders and arms rippling beneath the thin fabric of his shirt as he ran his hands over Molly's legs.

“All you have to do is stay on her back,” he was saying to his small jockey. “Make sure you've got a good seat and tight legs because when she stretches out, she'll run a hole in the wind.”

The boy looked dubious, but he nodded that he understood. Eagle Jack bent over and cupped his hand to give the boy a leg up.

“I'll be right back,” he said to Susanna.

Then he led Molly toward the starting line while she got used to the jockey being on her back. Once the short, scruffy mare was standing beside the long-legged Thoroughbred that was her opponent in this match race, several more people began signaling to Eagle Jack that they wanted to make a bet.

Susanna watched him dealing with them all and talking to the two men appointed to hold the money. Her gaze stayed glued to him as he returned to Molly, then, and stroked her shaggy mane. He put his arm around her neck and hugged her while he appeared to whisper something to her.

Molly pricked up her ears and turned her head to nudge him with her nose. It made Susanna smile.

“Eagle Jack knows how to treat a woman, doesn't he, Molly?” she murmured, under her breath.

Then he was walking toward her again, finding his way through the crowd, and her fingers tightened on the two sets of reins she was holding. Her breath caught in her chest.

All she wanted, right now at this minute, was for him to be beside her again. She wasn't even thinking about winning money. She was losing her mind. What was she going to do when they parted for good?

Eagle Jack reached her just before the starting gun fired.

The race went like lightning. The horses were running full out almost before Susanna could transfer her gaze from Eagle Jack to the track. They raced close together for less than halfway down the track, with Molly a neck ahead of the much taller horse, then Molly started pulling ahead. She simply floated—she absolutely looked as if she were moving effortlessly—farther and farther and farther ahead of the other horse, and she kept on going.

“She's just a blur,” Susanna said, in wonder. “I've never seen anything like it.”

“You've saved your ranch, Susanna,” Eagle Jack said, “the odds were ten to one.”

Her ranch! Brushy Creek was saved!

“
Molly
saved it, you mean,” she cried, and turned to throw her arms around his neck after the mare crossed the finish line four lengths ahead.

But as he hugged her in that one quick moment of victory, she still couldn't feel a thing about the race or her ranch. All she was thinking was soon it would be the last time he'd ever hold her.

 

Eagle Jack leaned back in his rocking chair, exhaled a cloud of smoke from his new cheroot, and propped his feet up on the railing that ran along the veranda of the Drovers Cottage. With the
breeze from the east, it was actually cool enough for life to be enjoyable here in the shade.

It was more than enjoyable to be bathed and shaved and cologned and wearing freshly pressed new clothes. It was a pleasure to get dressed up once in a while.

It was more than a pleasure to be waiting for Susanna to go to dinner with him.

She had refused to let him buy her a dress, or even to help her choose one, but he had achieved the thing he wanted most today, which was her company for a leisurely dinner. There would be some musicians playing there in the restaurant tonight, the desk clerk had assured him. There would be dancing.

“Sixkiller! They told me that I'd find you here.”

The sound of his name broke his mood as sharply as a rock thrown through a window glass.

He turned to see Joe Patterson, the cattle buyer he'd sold to for the last three years, coming out of the door of the hotel.

Eagle Jack had no choice but to give up his reverie, stand up, and hold out his hand in welcome.

“Patterson,” he said, “I wasn't expecting you to be looking for me today.”

“I know our appointment was for tomorrow,” Patterson said, “but I've been called back East and I'm leaving on the six o'clock train. We'll have to deal tonight.”

Eagle Jack bit back a rude exclamation.

“And the lady with the Slanted S cattle,” Patterson said. “I'll need to see her this evening, too.”

“She'll be here momentarily,” Eagle Jack said. “We're going to dinner.”

“Ah! Dinner will be perfect,” Patterson said. “If that's agreeable to the two of you. Then I'll have time to see my one other client and I can finish my business and still catch my train.”

The screen door opened and both men turned in time to see Susanna step out onto the porch.

Eagle Jack's breath caught.

The dress she wore, of a thin, blue cloth that swirled around her ankles, made her, for a moment, seem a stranger. An elegant, gorgeous lady of a stranger. He had never seen her in a dress before.

He smiled. It did match her eyes—she must've read his mind because he hadn't ever suggested that she should always wear blue. She should, though.

She smiled back at him.

“Susanna,” he said, “this is Joe Patterson, the cattle buyer I mentioned to you. Joe, this is Susanna Copeland of the Slanted S.”

Joe bowed over her hand.

“I've come to dinner to buy your cattle, my dear lady,” he said. “I'm sorry to intrude but I must be on my way at dawn.”

“Then, by all means, it's dinner,” she said, laughing a little.

Eagle Jack silently marveled at her. She sounded as if she were a pampered lady who never saw the dawn and didn't want to, a soft lady who never rose from her bed until noon, and she looked the part. Yet she had been in the saddle many a morning as the sun came up or even before, on the mornings when she wasn't making sourdough biscuits or slicing bacon from the slab and frying it over an open fire.

Patterson insisted that they both escort Susanna into the restaurant, and Eagle Jack felt a stab of resentment once again. He would get rid of the man as soon as humanly possible.

He needed to dance with Susanna. He needed to hold her in his arms.

He would take control of the conversation, because sometimes Patterson could be as talkative as an old man reminiscing. Eagle Jack would turn the talk to the cattle during the meal and they could settle on the price before dessert. He would remind Patterson of his one last client to see, and then he'd be alone with Susanna.

They would dance. He would go to her room with her. They would make love and talk and he would mention going to see her during the year to come and they would make plans to drive their herds north together next year. It would be an evening both of them would always remember.

 

A few minutes later, after Eagle Jack had insisted on the best table by a window and they were seated there, Susanna glanced around at the white-clothed tables, the sparkling china and well-starched waiters. This was the nicest restaurant she'd ever been in.

Yet all she could think of was that if she sold her cattle at this meal, it would be the last one she ever shared with Eagle Jack. After all these weeks, they would have nothing connecting them once the cattle were gone.

But there was nothing connecting them now. Nothing of a permanent nature. She either had to remember that or stop thinking about him.

The clientele of the restaurant was made up of what appeared to be prosperous-looking cattlemen and buyers and agents, most of whom had exchanged pleasantries with her two companions as the three of them were shown to their table. Also, there were a few townspeople and Easterners who were not dressed in boots and big hats like the Texans. She'd been amazed to find that Abilene had several stores that catered to the cattle people by selling everything Texas-style, and their newspaper published articles about how the Texans dressed.

They should print a story about Eagle Jack, because he was the most striking-looking Texan there. He was the handsomest she'd ever seen
him, in a starched white shirt and creased khaki pants that looked good with his tooled belt and freshly polished boots. Too bad Maynell was out at the cow camp instead of drooling over him this minute. She would swoon.

The waitress soon came and recited the menu choices, assuring them that there were farm-fresh vegetables and fruits and plenty of cream in the kitchen, for everyone knew that those foods were scarce on the trail. They ordered, and then made pleasant conversation while they waited for their food.

Word of Molly's speed and deceptive appearance had spread all over town since the afternoon race, so Susanna and Eagle Jack recounted the whole story to Mr. Patterson. Then, when the girl brought their dishes of sizzling wilted lettuce with bacon, Eagle Jack turned the talk to the sale of their cattle.

“So am I to understand that you want to make an offer for our herds?”

“Yes,” Mr. Patterson said, “I always know that Sixkiller cattle are healthy and they stand the shipping well. People in the North and East can't seem to get enough beef. I'm prepared to take every head you've got, Eagle Jack.”

He turned to Susanna with a smile.

“And yours, too, Mrs. Copeland. I rode through them and looked them over this afternoon while you two were out racing the ponies.”

Susanna smiled and tried to be happy at the news. It had to be. She had to have the money from the cattle or be homeless and debt-ridden, to boot. She had paid Eagle Jack back from the money she'd made with Molly and she had enough to pay the hands but not enough to pay the whole mortgage. She had no choice. She had to sell the cattle. Saving her ranch was the reason she'd gone through all that hard work and danger.

So why wasn't she feeling a huge rush of relief and excitement about all the money she'd soon have in her hand? Why wasn't she yearning to go home to Brushy Creek?

Because Eagle Jack wouldn't be there.

“Not to be rude,” Eagle Jack said, “but I know you have someone else to meet after dinner, so I'll ask this now, Joe. What are you offering us per head?”

“The going rate of twenty dollars,” he said. “I'll start out with my top price because I know better than to bargain with a Sixkiller, anyhow.”

Susanna listened even more intently. Eagle Jack hadn't mentioned any relatives to her, but this sounded as if he had some who were in the cattle business.

Joe Patterson turned to her.

“Have you ever visited the Sixkiller ranch, Mrs. Copeland? The Sixes and Sevens? I went there and stayed a week one time and it did me no good at all. Eagle Jack and his brothers and his father
are some tough customers, I'll tell you. They hammered at my price until they drove it sky-high.”

“Nothing but right,” Eagle Jack said, with a grin. “You didn't have to chase 'em out of the brush. We'd already done that for you.”

His brothers? His father? The Sixes and Sevens? The Sixkiller ranch?

A sick, sharp betrayal shot through Susanna. All of this was news to her, and
she
had spent
many
weeks with Eagle Jack.

S
usanna felt, suddenly, totally left out. Out in the cold of loneliness, the coldest cold there is. She felt not connected to anyone, the way she had felt for most of her life.

And then, when she was old enough to know better, she had let herself become connected to Eagle Jack during those many weeks on the trail. The fierce heartbreak, the physical wrench to her stomach, and the shivering chill she was feeling right now proved that. Yes, they really were connected.

Joe Patterson was looking at her, waiting for an answer to his question.

“No,” she said, and she marveled at how calm she sounded, “I've never been to the Sixes and Sevens.”

She picked up her cup and took a sip of coffee. She didn't spill a drop.

“Why don't you tell me about it, Mr. Patterson?” she said.

She didn't look at Eagle Jack.

“It's a good distance east of Waco,” Joe Patterson began, “a big spread with a beautiful old headquarters built of logs. It's in a partly wooded country on the Sabine River.” He turned to Eagle Jack. “That's been Sixkiller land for a long time, hasn't it?”

Eagle Jack leaned back as the waitress appeared and started serving their steaks. “Yes,” he said, “ever since a band of Cherokee followed Duwali into Spanish territory. Fifty years ago.”

So he had two groups to be part of—the Cherokee and his family. She had misjudged him completely, thinking he was a rootless trail boss who hired out to other people.

And he had never said one word to correct her assumption.

“You mentioned some other Sixkillers, Mr. Patterson,” she said. “Are they anything like Eagle Jack?”

“Every one of the Sixkiller brothers is a man who covers the ground he stands on,” Patterson said. “They're all men to be reckoned with.”

The food looked delicious. Susanna picked up her knife and fork. Tender steak, new potatoes, and fresh green beans with real butter melting on them. Fresh cantaloupe slices. Yeast bread. All wonderful treats after life on the trail. But her appetite had left her.

So Eagle Jack had brothers.

“Are they all as full of fun and pranks as Eagle Jack?” she said.

Then, resolutely, she sliced a bite of steak. She would need her strength. She had business, important business, to conduct.

Are they as reserved and closemouthed about their private lives?

But she would not ask any more questions about Eagle Jack. She would put him out of her mind and get down to this cattle sale.

“Oh, I don't know,” Patterson said. “As I'm sure you know, Eagle Jack's hard to keep up with in the fun department.”

“Yes, he is,” she said, as she passed the bread basket. “I've learned that for myself.”

Then she looked at Joe Patterson, holding her breath that he wouldn't call the bluff she was about to make.

“I'm thinking perhaps I should hold out for…something above the going rate, Mr. Patterson. We've driven slowly the last couple of weeks and our cattle have quite a lot of flesh on them.”

She would've named a dollar amount but she had no idea how much she could say without embarrassing herself as a novice at this game. And she certainly didn't want to make Joe Patterson throw down his napkin and leave in disgust.

Because her cattle had to be sold tonight so she could get away from Eagle Jack.

That feeling did not stem from the fact that she was in love with him, which she already knew she had no choice but to live with for the rest of her life. He had hurt her as a friend.

She'd never had a real friend before, except for Maynell. Evidently, Maynell was her
only
friend.

Joe Patterson just sat there, looking surprised.

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Copeland,” he said. “I'd just assumed that Eagle Jack was conducting your sale for you, or that you were acting in tandem.”

“I like to take care of my own…”

“We do act in tandem,” Eagle Jack interrupted. “We both engage in negotiations, whatever they are.”

Susanna bit her lip. She didn't care what he said. All she wanted was for this to hurry up and be over. She had to get out of there so she could be alone.

“Mrs. Copeland is right, you know,” Eagle Jack said. “I've been thinking, too, that your offer might be less than we could get if we ask for bids from some other buyers.”

Patterson put down his fork in dismay (but only temporarily) and made a great show of distress, declaring that twenty dollars was the best he could do. And so the bargaining began. It went on while they finished the meal until they finally settled on twenty-two dollars.

Joe Patterson pushed his empty plate away and reached for his leather briefcase.

“Then if you two would be so kind as to sign the bills of sale, I will, in turn, sign bank drafts for you. That's the way I like to do business. All the details taken care of at the time of the sale, almost like cash on the barrel head.”

Once the transaction was completed, he thanked them again and bustled out, on his way to his other client. Susanna waited to give him time to leave the Drovers Cottage because she couldn't bear the thought of having to make small talk with him or anyone else in the lobby.

She lectured herself silently as she put her bank draft into her handbag and accepted one more cup of coffee. This moment had been foreordained from the instant she'd realized what she had in her marriage to Everett. She'd known right then that if she ever found herself free again, she could never trust another man enough to live with him.

And now Eagle Jack had proved that to be a wise decision. He'd not told her everything—in fact, hardly anything—since the day they met, and it was true what she'd said to him back there in Texas. A person could lie by omission just as well as any other way.

But the thing that hurt was that he hadn't trusted her enough to confide in her. Even when she had confided everything in him.

He didn't regard her as an equal. She wasn't important enough for confidences of even the most casual kind.

Eagle Jack touched her hand, and the heat of his touch made her turn to look at him. He was talking about music, something about the piano player. He was saying something about dancing. He was asking her to dance.

“No, thank you.”

She took her napkin from her lap and laid it beside her plate while she looked him straight in the eye. That made it almost impossible for her to speak, but she did say it.

“This is the time for us to say good-bye, Eagle Jack.”

He looked so shocked and hurt that she could hardly bear it, in spite of the pain he was causing her at that moment.

“Our cattle are sold,” she said, “and I've paid you everything I owe you out of my race winnings. We're square, as far as I can tell.”

“What is the
matter
with you?”

His voice was low and cold, it didn't carry far, but the tension that had sprung up between them was like a live thing that attracted the attention of the other diners.

Susanna stood up and so did Eagle Jack. He pulled back her chair and she stepped away from the table.

“Let's get out of here and go where we can talk,” he said, and threw some money on the table.

“No.” She began to walk very fast but he stayed at her side. He took her elbow, although she tried to prevent it. “Leave me,” she said fiercely. “I want to be alone.”

“Not until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

Someone called to Eagle Jack as they left the restaurant for the lobby and when he turned his head, Susanna jerked free and began to run.

As Eagle Jack pounded up the stairs after Susanna, he couldn't remember when he'd been so furious—or so scared. He dodged some more cattlemen he knew on the landing, and then he took the steps two and three at a time.

But when he hit the second floor hallway running, she was halfway down it, almost to her room. She glanced back over her shoulder.

“Go away, Eagle Jack.”

“Stop right where you are, Susanna.”

She stopped at her door and took the key from her bag. She fumbled with it, but she got it into the lock, turned it, went inside, and closed the door. He lunged for the knob. The key turned on the inside with a definite click.

He banged on the door with his fist.

“Let me in there, damn it! I've never been so mystified in my life. What is it that you're not telling me?”

“Ha! You're a fine one to ask that question.”

The door muffled her voice but only a little. Her tone clearly stated that he should know what she meant.

He tried. He had been there through the whole dinner, sitting right there. So why didn't he know what had turned Susanna into a different, completely insane person?

Something that
he
wasn't telling
her
?

She had been all right when she stepped out of the inn and onto the veranda. He would swear it.

It took every bit of control that he had, but he spoke in a more reasonable tone.

“You were at the table with me and Patterson, Susanna. You heard it all. You know everything I know about the sale.”

He waited but she didn't respond to that.

“So what is it that I'm not telling you?”

“You're the only one who knows that, aren't you?”

Her sarcastic tone stoked his anger.

“Please, Eagle Jack,” she said, “just go away and stop making a scene.”

As if he were someone she barely knew. As if what somebody else thought about his behavior was more important than his feelings.

His fury burst into flames. He backed up, almost all the way across the wide hallway, then ran at the door and kicked the knob hard with the heel of his boot.

Susanna screamed as he burst into the room.

“Please, Susanna,” he said, in that same sardonic tone she'd used, “you're making a scene.”

He turned and closed the door. It swung open again, so he propped it shut with a chair.

Susanna stared at Eagle Jack stalking across the room toward her, his heels clicking purposefully against the wooden floor. She'd forgotten how dangerous he could look.

“I'll call for the marshal,” she said, though her mouth had gone dry. “You've just broken into my room.”

“I'll go
get
the marshal for you,” he said. “But first you're going to tell me what has turned you completely loco.”

He didn't stop until he was right in her face, close enough that she could smell the coffee on his breath. His eyes were hard and his jaw was set.

“Talk,” he said.

She realized that she was standing huddled over her handbag, which she was holding to her chest with both hands as if she thought he was going to rob her. Pulling herself up straight, she turned and walked to the bed, dropped the bag onto it, and sat down beside it.

Her knees felt weak as water.

“You never told me you had some brothers,” she said. “You never told me that your home is a famous old ranch that your family has had for fifty years.”

He stared at her. “Glared” would be more like it.

“It never came up.”

He was looking at her with a mixture of scorn and disbelief that lit her temper like a fuse.

“Oh, no? What about when I said something about the owner of your beef herd? You didn't say
you
were the owner. Or the Sixes and Sevens, whichever it is.”

He did have the grace to look a little chagrined.

“It wasn't important,” he said.

“What about all the times I told you about my childhood? All my ugly, awful secrets that I usually can't bear to think about. How come you didn't reciprocate? When I talked about my ranch, why didn't you talk about yours?”

“We were talking about
you
.”

“I tried to draw you out, but you wouldn't let me. You
know
that's true.”

He shrugged.

“And there's all your men, Nat and the rest, coming to meet us directly from the Sixes and Sevens, right?”

“Yes.”

“But in all that time, in all the talk around the campfire, none of them—not even Nat who has such a big mouth—said anything that let me know you're not what you seem to be. Instead, you're a wealthy rancher out adventuring, hiring out to a penniless widow to be her trail boss, playing a part…” Her voice almost broke. “…including that of her lover.”

I took him as a lover and I didn't know him at all
.

He looked at her straight.

“I don't talk about myself and my family. My men don't, either,” he said.

“
Why?
”

“It's nobody's business. Lots of people don't think Indians are entitled to have anything. Some might even take it upon themselves to come visit. To cause trouble. There's no sense asking for that.” He shrugged. “Lots of reasons.”

She thought about that for a moment, holding on to the edge of the bed with both hands. Otherwise, she felt she'd just fall into a heap in the middle of it.

“But you invited Patterson to the Sixes and Sevens and he stayed as a guest for a week.”

“We've known him for a long time.”

“Well, you knew me long enough to know I wouldn't come raiding your ranch or go around blabbing about it to those who would.”

“Yes.”

His look was steady.

She returned it. “I know you're a private person, Eagle Jack, but you still aren't being quite straight with me, I'm thinking.”

He made a gesture of defeat and gave in.

“Don't you understand, Susanna? I hated to talk about my home and my herds and my horses and my family when you didn't have any of that.”

Surprised, she could only look at him.

“It seemed like it would be bragging or something. You were so worried about money and about losing your place.”

He waited but she didn't react.