The Lover (8 page)

“I didn't ride out here for a philosophical discussion,” she said. “I came to tell you to stop getting in my business.”

“Is this still about your ol' pard, Mr. Adams?”

“That is another perfect example,” she said, “but this is about Maynell and Jimbo. All you had to do was back me up and they'd be at Brushy Creek taking care of the place like they're supposed to instead of leaving everything I have in the care of a half-grown kid.”

He shrugged and heeled his horse to start moving again.

“You knew I like pie,” he said. “Maybe if you'd made me some for supper last night, I'd've been in a different frame of mind when Maynell starting bribing me.”

She hit her saddle horn with her fist and the sack almost bounced out of her hand.

“Listen to me, Eagle Jack Sixkiller. We cannot both share the responsibilities and boss this trail
drive if you won't ever take my opinion into account or let me make a decision.”

He stifled a grin.

“Then I'll boss it,” he said, in a reasonable tone. “It's the only way.”

“Over my dead body,” she said, from between clenched teeth.

“Now, now, sweetheart. No need to be so agitated. Everybody knows the first year of marriage is the hardest.”

Her eyes flashed fire at him in the moonlight.

“I am so sorry I ever had the thought of pretending to be married to you, much less that I did it!” she cried.

“But someday you'll be glad,” he said.

“You make me so mad I'd take your supper right back with me if I wouldn't have to listen to Maynell go on about it for the next three months—day and night, seven days a week.”

“That's another reason I brought Maynell along,” he said. “I was thinking I might never get fed, otherwise. Not anything, much less pie.”

She threw the sack at him and he caught it.

“There,” she said. “Maynell sent it to you, but I cooked it. Eat it if you dare.”

“Childish threats don't become you, Susanna,” he said.

She was turning her horse to ride away, but she paused to glare at him. In her fury, she was more beautiful than ever.

Her cheeks were dusted with moonlight, her hair was pulled back tightly and held in one long braid, her shirt was too big for her. It fell away from her neck to show the delicate wing of her collarbone. He wanted powerfully to lay down a line of kisses along it and nestle his mouth into the hollow of her throat.

“Susanna,” he said, “put your mind at rest. I couldn't be more serious about this drive.”

“Empty words do not become you, Eagle Jack. I know we've hurried like mad all day and now we're driving all night only so you can look for your stolen horse.”

He sighed. Beautiful or not, she would try anyone's patience. Sometimes the things she said and did would even try the forbearance of his grandfather, who was imperturbability itself.

At those times he wished he'd never left the comforts of home for adventure. He wouldn't have, if he'd known he'd find such aggravation, too.

Or would he? Words and behavior aside, she looked like an absolute angel in the moonlight. Maybe just looking at her would be worth all the vexation.

“Have a little trust in me, won't you, Susanna? Last night you said that you trust me.”

That stopped her for a minute.

“I do,” she said, slowly, “deep down. But in lit
tle things I don't. You're good but you're selfish, too, Eagle Jack. You're out to get what you want.”

“And
you're
not,” he drawled. “That's what I like best about you, Susanna.”

“No need for sarcasm,” she said. “Just remember that you'd better consider my opinion and let me share in making the decisions or…”

“Or…what?”

She went still in the saddle, sitting there with her horse waiting to head back to the herd and the moon rising behind her.

“I don't know yet, Eagle Jack.” Her voice was flat with discouragement, almost despair. “I have no choice now but to go on with you but I cannot stand to be helpless and powerless. Now I don't even have free rein in the cook's job—Maynell will be meddling every minute in what I cook and how I cook it.”

She stopped and looked at him very straight.

“And a miracle would have to happen for me to have the slightest chance of influencing even one decision about the trail.”

“At the jail, you said whoever you hired as trail boss would make the trail decisions.”

She nodded.

“I know. But this trip will last for a long time and I have no place in it. What am I, the errand girl? That's what I always was to Everett—errand girl and servant girl.”

Eagle Jack thought about that while he turned his head to check on the herd. It was a crying shame that she'd been so young when she met Everett, so desperate to get out on her own that she had married him.

That was one of the big injustices of life because she didn't deserve to be scarred this way. It would affect her for the rest of her life. It might prevent her from ever trusting another man.

Her cattle were moving into view now, coming steadily closer.

“Turn your horse and ride ahead with me,” he said. “If you were a man who owned this herd—a man who had never been up the trail before—things would be no different.”

She threw him a doubtful look.

“It's true, Susanna. The trail's a dangerous place. A greenhorn can't make the decisions because too many lives are at stake.”

“The first person who ever went up the trail had never done it before,” she said.

He nodded and they rode along in silence for a while, the cattle lowing behind them.

“Here's what I'm thinking,” he said, finally. “Why don't I teach you? Once you know some things, then your opinion will be worth considering.”

The grateful look and the smile she gave him made him wish he'd thought of that a long time ago.

“I'm not saying we'll always agree on what to do, Susanna, but I can use another set of eyes and ears. This is a big country and nobody can notice everything all the time.”

The moonlight fell across her face. Her eyes were shining.

“You mean to take me on scout with you?”

“Whenever you're not needed with the cooking, yes. Feeding the men is still the most important.”

“Eagle Jack, I could kiss you,” she blurted. “I would
love
to scout with you and learn to be a trail driver!”

That made him smile. It also made him smile that she held his gaze as if to say her word was good, even though her sheepish grin told him she hadn't meant to say that.

He could not resist that combination. Of course, when could he ever resist the offer of a kiss?

“Then I'll collect right now,” he said, and stood in the stirrup to lean across the narrow space between their horses.

She blushed beneath the moondust on her cheeks. “I…it was just a figure of speech…”

He grinned. “I feel the same way,” he said confidingly. “I could kiss you any time at all, Susanna.”

“I said it, I guess I'll have to pay up,” she said playfully.

“Right. You wouldn't ever want to go back on your word.”

Her eyes twinkled as she leaned out of the saddle to meet him.

“You are the best at acting sincere of anyone I've ever known,” she said.

“No acting,” he told her, and brushed her lips with his. “I am the soul of sincerity.”

“I only meant I could just kiss you on the
cheek
,” she amended.

He kissed her lightly on the mouth.

“Maybe that's just what you
thought
you meant,” he said, “but don't you like this better?”

He held her gaze with his. She had the most beautiful eyes.

“Yes…” she said.

He kissed her again, just a friendly peck, then he sat back down in the saddle. It would be best to leave her wanting more.

What
he
really wanted was to pull her off her horse onto his, into his lap, and kiss her with a long, burning kiss that would tell her exactly how sincere he was about wanting her. But that would scare her again. She might not kiss him back with that same unhesitating instinct as she had done the first time.

This time, whether she'd just been teasing with him or not, she might tell him not to take such liberties again.

But he couldn't believe how much he wanted to
do exactly that. He wanted to start it all again and hold that sweet weight of her breast in his hand and take up exactly where they'd left off the night before.

He could hear the echo of that tone in her voice, though, that ring of fear that had made him hate Everett who had hurt her in the past. And that other boy who had kissed her and left her, too.

Even if it would be good for her to lead her into that kindness and desire she had talked about, this wasn't the time. He wanted her to come to him.

No, he didn't. That wouldn't be good because it'd complicate everything too much.

And she was the most desirable woman he'd ever met, bar none.

Who was she, anyway, this independent, jail-invading rancher, Susanna Copeland? This beautiful person who played kissing games but talked to him as straight as any man would have?

What other woman on the face of the earth would have come right out and told him what she needed and how she felt about her job just now, instead of pouting and playing some kind of emotional game to try to make him figure it out on his own? Certainly not Talitha Gentry, whom he'd been seeing these last few months while he'd been living at home on the Sixes and Sevens.

Talitha was the queen of pouting and game playing, especially since he'd danced so many dances with Emma Dooley and Agnes Burke and
all those other girls at the Box O Ranch social last month. Talitha was just like all the rest—she wanted to rope and tie him and make him settle down.

That thought brought him back to himself. There was no comparison between Talitha and Susanna. Susanna and he were in a business arrangement, not a personal one.

That was a fact he had to remember.

He had thought, during those first moments when she'd come to the jail, that he might have a dalliance with her, but not anymore. Her feelings ran far too deep to risk that.

And
that
was the real reason he hadn't truly kissed her tonight.

But he still wanted to, and knowing him, he usually did what he wanted, sooner or later.

It had done him absolutely no good to bring Maynell and Jimbo along. They wouldn't be a bit of protection to him if he was going to invite Susanna to scout with him.

They rode along in comfortable silence with Eagle Jack wondering, every step of the way, why he had invited her to be his companion for a large part of every day. That hadn't been necessary. Not at all. She herself had said that she had no choice but to go ahead with this drive, and he could've kept it on his terms.

He'd probably done it because of Cookie. When they threw this bunch in with the Sixes and Sev
ens crew and Cookie saw that he had two other cooks—and women, at that—for competition, he'd throw a wall-eyed fit. Maybe one woman wouldn't be so bad. If Susanna went on scout, it would just be Maynell vying with Cookie for the reputation of best cook on the trail.

Deep in his heart, though, he knew that wasn't the only reason, if it was a reason at all.

The true explanation was that he wanted to spend time with Susanna. And he really did have good intentions of teaching her some skills she needed to survive.

He could only hope those good intentions weren't the ones that paved the road to hell.

S
usanna rode along beside Eagle Jack, rocked by the slow, rhythmic motion of the horses. The moonlight seemed to reach out around them and pull them in, as it was growing stronger by the minute. It filled her with a whole new mystery—how could it open up the night over the whole prairie and wrap them close in a golden cocoon at the same time?

She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. Yes, she could still taste Eagle Jack and feel the quick, sweet pressure of his kiss. He had abandoned it far too soon, yet, she would not—she could not—provoke him to finish it because it would only make her want more.

What she needed to do right that minute was go back to the wagon and help Maynell, because she was supposed to take supper to the other
men, too. Maynell would be waiting for her and getting impatient.

Instead, she let the reins go a little looser in her fingers and kept on riding beside Eagle Jack. Spring was coming in, stronger on every moonbeam. The smells of grass beneath their feet and fresh rain way off somewhere mingled with those of the cattle and horses. A nightbird called.

Her heart rode higher on the sound.

The wagon creaked along, somewhere behind them, the mules' harnesses jingling. A cow bawled on one side of the herd and another, on the other side, answered.

Susanna stood in her stirrups and twisted in the saddle to look back. It was like a dream to see them moving through the night—the great sea of horns flashing, the white on their hides catching the moonlight, their hooves making a low rumble against the ground. She watched awhile, then sat down and looked to the north again, to the market, to the place where she'd get the money to save her home. Her goal was up ahead and she was on her way.

Her cattle were on the road at last! The realization came to her, into her skin like the moonlight's shine, into her blood like the sweet night air. Suddenly, for the first time since she couldn't remember when, she was there, there in only that moment, and a new sense of hope was filling her up, body and spirit. The thing she had dreamed
of for months and months was happening.

And it would end well, too. Everything would be all right.

It gave her an instant of rare peace.

Eagle Jack began to whistle softly, a jaunty, happy melody that she recognized but couldn't quite name. Then she knew—it was “Oh, Susanna!”

She turned to look at him and he inclined his head and winked as if to confirm the tune was all about her.

As if her glance had asked that question. Sometimes he could be so full of himself.

Shaking her head wryly, grinning at his silliness, she held his gaze for a minute. He was the reason she was feeling such hope, such security, for once in her life. And that, in itself, was one of the scariest thoughts she'd ever had.

He could draw her into a whole web of hope and imaginings if she would let herself go there. She needed to turn her mount around and go back to Maynell.

But Eagle Jack wouldn't let her look away and they rode through the spring moonlight side by side for another little distance. He stopped whistling and just smiled at her.

“I have to go,” she said finally. “Maynell will have the other men's food ready and I have to take it to them.”

He nodded and raised his bag of jerky and biscuits in salute.

“Thanks,” he said.

She turned her horse around and skirted the edge of the herd to get back to the wagon. Her heart was stirring with such a real confusion of feelings that she could hardly sort them out. She was scared and happy and excited and hopeful and uncertain and at peace and a whole lot more, besides. All she knew for sure was that Eagle Jack Sixkiller somehow was part of every emotion she had right now.

 

They drove through the night, just as Eagle Jack had planned and, although they stopped for breakfast and to water the cattle, they kept moving on north, slowly, during most of the rest of the day. Susanna had expected they would rest most of the day but he wouldn't hear of it. Finally, in the late afternoon, he stopped his horse, indicated a grassy meadow in the bend of a big creek for the bedground, and the crew threw the cattle off the trail at last.

Eagle Jack seemed to Susanna to be everywhere at once, but he was mostly with the cattle, showing his inexperienced men how to fan them out and push them slowly to the water to drink and how to gently hold them together and circle them as they grazed to get them, later, to bed down. She was glad he was so occupied because it meant she and Maynell could put up her tent
in an unobtrusive spot in the trees without his notice.

Maybe he'd feel he needed to sleep out with the men to be nearer the cattle tonight. Maybe he'd forget he was supposed to behave as if they were married. Maybe he had already made his point by sleeping in her room at home.

She hoped so. She didn't even care if the men thought they were fighting. The last thing she needed was to share a tent with Eagle Jack—what would follow if they happened to kiss again? What would she do if he did decide to “bother” her? Would she be strong enough to resist him? Something was wrong with her. She had barely been able to keep her eyes off him all night and all day.

Even after they got the tent up, he kept coming into her mind while she was helping Maynell cook supper, but that was only because she was too tired to think straight. Or maybe it was because Maynell kept up a running chatter about what Eagle Jack would like for supper, and whether Eagle Jack liked dried apple pie and what Eagle Jack would want for breakfast.

“Maynell,” she said, “why don't you worry about what Jimbo would want?”

“Because I know what he wants,” Maynell said, with a sigh. “Jimbo wants to be off to hisself to chew his tobacco in peace.”

Sure enough, when Eagle Jack and most of the crew rode up and stopped to dismount far enough from the fire not to get dust in the food, Jimbo wasn't with them. He and Rodney, one of Marvin's partners, had stayed with the herd.

“Remember, boys, let's keep a sharp lookout while we eat,” Eagle Jack called to them. “That herd's nowhere near trailbroke yet.”

Somebody said something she didn't catch and Eagle Jack's rich laugh rang out. He seemed to certainly be in fine fettle for someone who'd spent a sleepless night horseback.

That explained it. That was why her mind was such a mess. It was tied in knots just like her body after being in the saddle for so long. Her constant awareness of Eagle Jack was only caused by being so tired and being in this new world of the trail. He had been here before. He was her guide north. That explained why she kept watching him.

As the men walked up to the fire, Susanna turned, bent over the pot hanging there, and began stirring the stew she and Maynell had put on to cook the minute they had a fire. She would keep her back turned until Eagle Jack passed by and went to the wash bench to clean up for supper. She was exhausted. One look into his dark eyes and she'd forget all these chores and fall into his arms. She'd been thinking about how it would feel for him to hold her. She'd been trying to forget the taste of his kiss.

A big hand slapped her lightly on the bottom.

“What d'you think, honey?” he said in his low, rich voice. “Is supper ready?”

She sprang upright and whirled to face him, brandishing the long-handled wooden spoon, heat rushing to her face from embarrassment.

“Eagle Jack!” she cried.

Susanna couldn't help glancing around to see who had noticed the familiarity. Marvin's face was nearly as red as hers and his friend, Lanny, was grinning. Both of them quickly looked away from her and Eagle Jack. Over by the wagon, Maynell was watching, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“You stop that,” Susanna said, lowering her voice so only Eagle Jack could hear. “Good heavens, Eagle Jack, you're scandalizing the camp.”

He pretended to be hurt. “I don't know why,” he drawled, “they all know a man has every right to give his wife a little love pat once in awhile.”

His eyes were twinkling with mischief. His contagious smile was as broad as the prairie.

“What's the matter, darlin'?” he said. “Have you forgotten our wedding ceremony? Remember—when the preacher asked if you would obey me, and you said you would?”

“I will
not
,” she said, and swatted at him with the spoon.

He dodged the blow.

“Now, now, love,” he said, “let's not set a bad ex
ample. Some of these boys might think about gettin' hitched some day. We don't want to discourage 'em.”

“What in the world is the matter with you?” she said. “For a man who's spent all night in the saddle, and one with a wound on his head, to boot, you're certainly in an expansive mood.”

He pretended to misunderstand. “It's not that expensive, sweet Susanna. It'll only cost you one little kiss.”

She lowered her voice even more.

“Listen, Eagle Jack,” she said, “I'm sorry I started that about playing kissing games. We've got to keep in mind that this is a business arrangement.”

He shook his head, his eyes still twinkling.

“I'm all business, all the time. You know that.” He reached out and brushed her hair back from her face. “Don't you? And you know that I'm only doing what you told me to do, sweetheart—just keepin' up appearances.”

He grinned and looked her up and down in an overdone imitation of a lecher. His heavy-lidded gaze lingered on her breasts for a moment. Her treacherous nipples hardened in anticipation of his touch.

She looked him in the eye and hoped he didn't see the condition he'd put her in.

“You're overdoing it,” she said. “A little bit of pretending goes a long way, Eagle Jack.”

“Not far enough, Susanna,” he said. “Not yet.”

He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on the lips, then he followed the other men to the wash bench.

 

After supper, as soon as the dishes were done, Susanna went to her tent and made two separate beds. If Eagle Jack truly did intend to share her tent, when he came in from night guard he could clearly see that he was meant to use the same quilts he'd slept on in her room. And he'd also be able to clearly see that she was sound asleep.

Her purpose had been accomplished. They had all the men believing that they were married. That was all she needed or wanted, so that was all there would be, no matter what he had implied when he said, “Not far enough, Susanna. Not yet.”

It sent a thrill through her, even now, when she remembered the low, intimate way he had said it. Her hands trembled as she washed up and changed into clean clothes. Eagle Jack had told the men to take off no more than their boots at night until the herd was well settled to the trail and she was going to do the same. They were so short handed they needed everyone watching the cattle just going down the trail and that need would be magnified if there should be a stampede. She was staying dressed, not because Eagle Jack might come in here—she wasn't going to let him have
that much control over her—but so she could ride at a moment's notice.

She brushed her hair, crawled into her bedroll, and left all her anxieties behind. Exhausted as she was, she fell into a dreamless sleep the minute her head touched the pillow. She didn't even turn over until Maynell's loud voice brought her back to reality.

“Come and get it,” May yelled, loud enough to waken Daniel way back there at Brushy Creek, “before I throw it out.”

The sun was nearly up—pink light was filtering in through the canvas walls of the tent and the whole camp was stirring. Incredibly, it was morning already.

Eagle Jack. Where was he?

She sat up and turned to look at his bedroll. It was rumpled. It had been used. He had been here, he had been sleeping nearby and she hadn't even known it.

Something velvety and wet touched her hand as she reached down to throw back the covers. She jerked back her hand, looked to see what it was and then picked it up, her heart pounding harder than it had even when Eagle Jack had kissed her.

A flower. One beautiful bluebonnet, covered with morning dew.

The first flower anyone ever gave her.

“Dear Lord in heaven.”

She breathed the words as a prayer. She had to
have help because if Eagle Jack gave it half a try, he could make her fall in love with him.

 

Susanna wasn't alone with Eagle Jack until that afternoon when they rode ahead on scout together. All day she had stuck close to the wagon and Maynell. All day she had been thinking what to do.

What could she do to protect her heart? What could she do to build a wall between them? She could never trust any man enough to let him into her life as a husband. Yet a fantasy of Eagle Jack in that role had actually flashed across her mind when she'd held the bluebonnet in her hand.

By the time he called her to scout ahead with him for the night's bedground, she had thought of only one course of action.

“Eagle Jack,” she said, when they had left the herd behind, “don't bring me any more flowers.”

He whipped his head around to look at her.

“What the hell kind of a remark is that?” he asked.

He looked and sounded so surprised that her heart tripped over itself and then pounded, hard.

“The…bluebonnet,” she said, suddenly wondering whether he'd brought it or not, trying to think if someone else could have.

He stared at her with such an insulted look, such an incredible expression that she couldn't look away, even when she wanted to.

She felt her cheeks get hotter and hotter. Her mind chased every glimpse of a thought. Had she made a mistake? Could
she
even have torn the flower from the ground in her sleep? They were camped on grass. Yet it had been touched by the dew.

“Aren't…you the one who left that bluebonnet on my bed?” she asked.

“I wondered if you found it,” he said.

“Yes, I did,” she said.