Under the Desert Sky (8 page)

Then, as if unwilling or unable to carry this fantasy any further, Christian pushed his chair back from the table.

“The pancakes were delicious.” He took a last swallow of coffee. “I am most appreciative.”

“And the collops, Wet. Don't forget the collops,” Will added.

“I could eat that many pancakes and more, but we've got work to do. Are your nesting birds close by? I think I should check on them.”

“I dread to think what you might find. I only have my original six pairs of adult birds, and if they're gone, I'll . . .”

“Let's hope all is well. Are they in paddocks?”

“Yes, if that's what you call their pens. You'll see them when you get to the rise.”

“What about Wapi?” Will picked up one of the crisper pancakes. “Can Wet give this old pancake to him?”

“No, honey, we don't need to encourage him. Anyway, isn't taking care of Wapi one of your jobs?”

Christian's eyebrows rose. “Should I know something about . . . Wapi?”

“He's an orphan chick. One of my nests was washed away by a thunderstorm, and Will insisted we rescue the eggs and put them in the incubator. Only one hatched, and now he's become sort of a pet, or a nuisance, depending on how you look at it.”

“Now, how do you know Wapi is a boy?” Christian asked. “I've always heard it's hard to tell the sex of an ostrich until it gets through the hobbledehoy stage.”

Phoebe laughed. “Are you calling our birds awkward? Never. The Sloan birds are the best in the valley. Isn't that right, Will?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Well, I'd better go make the acquaintance of this fine flock,” Christian said. “Where's your tackey?”

“Tackey? I don't know what that is.” Phoebe's brow furrowed.

“Don't tell me you go out among the birds without a stick,” Christian said, astonished.

For an instant, a scene flashed across Phoebe's mind when, yes, she had gone among the birds without a stick. “It's by the gate,” Phoebe said, her voice devoid of emotion as she quickly turned away.

Christian was confused by her reaction, but didn't question her. “Give me a pancake, Will, and if I get to meet Wapi, I'll give it to him.”

•  •  •

When Christian reached the first enclosure, he found several sticks that had thorns still intact. Picking what he thought was the strongest one, he opened the gate and went in search of the nesting birds.

•  •  •

Phoebe was busy in the kitchen mixing up bread dough. She was thinking about the $600 Mr. Prinsen would've paid her for her hatchlings, but the loss, while distressing, hadn't devastated her. She credited that to the comforting support she'd received from Christian De Wet.

Hearing the screen door open, she said, “You're back. Please tell me the nests and the birds are safe.”

“Were the birds in danger? I hadn't heard that.”

“Frank!” She dropped her spoon on the floor. Picking it up, she turned toward him.

“I heard about your difficulties. I thought I'd come out here and see if there's anything I could do.”

“And what did you hear?”

“That you lost all the eggs in your brooder. Surely, you know that.”

“The question is, how do you?”

“My handyman was out and he ran into Cornello this morning, and Cornello told him how bad it was.”

“Cornello told Rojas?”

“Yes. He said not a single egg was spared. He said it looked like they may have been hit with a hammer. I wouldn't put it past that old man that he might do something like this himself.”

“Yes, who's to say.” Phoebe clenched her jaw.

“Finally—after all this time, you're making some sense. Get rid of those two old men, sell these damned birds, and move into town.” Frank moved toward her. “You won't have to work so hard.”

“And how do you propose I support myself?”

A revolting expression crossed his face. “It's interesting that you use the word
propose
. You've heard my proposal from the day you tricked my brother, and I'm running out of patience. You may think you don't have to submit to me, but so help me, when I'm through with you, you'll be begging to come to my bed.”

“Are you threatening me?” Phoebe raised her chin defiantly.

Frank crooked his finger under her chin. “No, my dear. It's not a threat. It will happen. The eggs are just the beginning.”

Just then, Christian came into the kitchen, having come through the parlor. “Is this man bothering you?”

Frank whirled around. “Mister, I don't know who you are, but you can't just walk into my brother's house and get away with it.” Frank pulled a small-caliber revolver from his pocket and pointed it at Christian. “I think you'd better get on your horse and ride out of here before I put a bullet through you.”

Christian laughed. “It wouldn't be the first time I've been shot at in this house.”

Frank looked toward Phoebe. “What is this man saying? Do you know him? Has he been bothering you? Whatever it is, I won't allow it.”

Just then Will came bounding into the kitchen. Seeing Frank with a gun pointed at Christian, Will hurried to Phoebe and buried his head in her skirt. “Don't let Uncle Frank shoot Wet. Get your gun, Mama, and shoot Uncle Frank.”

Phoebe picked Will up and held him in her arms. “No one's going to shoot anyone. Frank, I think it's time you left.”

Christian came to stand beside Phoebe and took Will from her. The boy wrapped his arms around Christian's neck and buried his head on his shoulder.

A menacing smile crossed Frank's face. “I'm beginning to get the picture here. Will, my boy, does Wet sleep here?”

“Yes, sir.”

Frank nodded. He turned and, without saying a word, stomped out of the kitchen.

“I take it ‘Uncle Frank' is your brother-in-law.”

“One and the same. You've just met Frank Sloan.”

“Seems like a pleasant fellow,” Christian said sarcastically. “From what I heard, it doesn't sound like there's much familial congeniality between you two. I'm glad I came in when I did.”

“Oh, the birds,” Phoebe said, concerned. “I forgot about them. Are they still alive?”

Christian laughed. “Your birds, and their eggs, I'm happy to say, are just fine, but I must say, you've got a couple of feisty ones out there.”

“Did you see Wapi? Did you give him the pancake?” Will asked.

“I did, and he asked about you. He told me to give you his best.”

Will laughed. “That's silly. Wapi's an ostrich, and ostriches can't talk.”

“Oh, but they can, if you know how to listen to them.”

“Mama, Wet can talk to ostriches. I'm going to make Wapi talk to me.”

Phoebe laughed. “Don't get into an argument with him.”

“If I do, I'll win,” Will called over his shoulder as he hurried outside.

Christian waited until Will was out of earshot before he turned back to Phoebe. “You can tell me it's none of my business, but I'm concerned about what I just overheard. Is there something you'd like to tell me?”

Phoebe drew a short, audible intake of breath. She clenched her hands and closed her eyes. “He wants me in his bed,” she said frankly.

“Since you're his brother's widow, maybe he feels an obligation toward marrying you. In some cultures, that's the expected thing to do, but I'd think he'd try to develop a better approach than what I just overheard.”

“You don't understand; he's not interested in marriage. He has a wife, but he wants me to be his concubine.”

“It seems to me that you were quite specific in your response. I'd think it's only a matter of time before he gives up.”

“Frank Sloan will never quit trying.”

“Of course he will. No man is going to continue pursuing a decent woman once she's turned him down. Not any man of character, that is.”

Decent woman
. Those words were stinging. In Phoebe's mind, she wasn't a decent woman. If Christian knew what she'd done, how she'd become pregnant before she and Edwin were married, would he condemn her for her transgression? Now was the time to tell him if she wanted any kind of relationship with Christian, but she couldn't.

Whom was she kidding? The term
relationship
hardly described what was happening between them. Yesterday was the first time she'd ever laid eyes on the man, yet she'd seen more of him than she had seen of any other man except her husband. Now would be the time to blurt out, “I was pregnant before I got married
,”
but what if Christian wasn't a forgiving man? What if he was like Frank?

No, she wouldn't say anything—at least not about her own history.

Finally she spoke. “Frank isn't a man of character. If he were, would he have broken all my eggs?”

“You're sure he's the one who did this?”

“He didn't admit to it in so many words, but he said Cornello told Rojas, and there's no way Cornello would know what happened. I've not seen him since the fiesta began, and I can't believe he'd leave the dancing to come all the way out here just to destroy his livelihood.”

“I know Cornello works for you, but who's Rojas?”

“He works for the Sloans.”

“Do you think your men will be back today?”

“Probably not. I'm sure the celebration has a few more days before it's over.”

“Then that settles it. You need another man. Someone who can look out for your birds and for your safety, too.”

Phoebe looked down. “Trinidad and Cornello have been with us from the very beginning and I trust them. I can't bring in someone else.”

“But you need someone who knows ostriches.”

“Are you volunteering for the job?” Phoebe laughed to cover her embarrassment. “Anyway, won't the water project occupy most of your time?”

A suggestive smile crossed Christian's face. “As much as I would love to be your man, it's not me I'm offering. I brought a good man with me from home, and now that I've agreed to stay in America for a while, he won't have much to do. I think he'd very much welcome the opportunity to be gainfully occupied.”

“I appreciate your offer, Christian, but quite frankly, I can't afford someone else. It's all I can do to come up with the money I pay Cornello and Trinidad. And now that there won't be any chicks to sell, it'll be harder than ever.”

“I understand, but you won't have to pay July anything. His salary is already taken care of, and like I said, he'll be anxious to have something to do. I'm going to ride over to the Prinsens' and bring him back. And I won't take no for an answer.” Christian ameliorated his absolute declaration with a smile.

“W
ell, if it isn't Mr. De Wet,” Gwen Bucknell said. “If I'm not mistaken, we missed you last night.”

Christian was in the stable unsaddling his horse and was surprised to meet the farm manager's wife. “Mrs. Bucknell, it's my pleasure.”

“I'm sure it has been.” A smile crossed Gwen's face. “I believe the last time I saw you, you were riding out of here on your way to Phoebe Sloan's house.”

“That's right. I spent the night with her.”

“Oh?” Gwen lifted an eyebrow.

“I suppose I should revise that,” Christian said when he saw Gwen's expression. “When Phoebe and I—that is, Mrs. Sloan and I—got to her house last night, we found her brooder house had been broken into, and every egg broken. They were not only broken, it was apparent that they'd been cracked deliberately.”

“Frank Sloan.” Anger crossed Gwen's face. “It's just like that no-good scoundrel to do such a thing. He's out to ruin Phoebe.”

“I met the man briefly this morning, and I share your opinion. At any rate, I thought it best not to leave Phoebe alone last night after we found the broken eggs.”

“I agree, and under the circumstances, spending the night was absolutely the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Mama, don't you have your horse saddled yet?” Hannah asked, coming into the stable. “Papa says we should get started before it gets too hot.”

“My daughters and I are going to be away for a while, but before we come home, we'll stop by Phoebe's place,” Gwen said. “I hope nothing else has happened.”

“I'm sure she'll appreciate that.”

•  •  •

Christian went in search of Yhomas. He wanted to tell him what had happened at the Sloan place and also tell him of his plan to have July work for Phoebe. When he reached the library, Yhomas was conversing with Benjamin Fowler.

“There you are, Christian,” Yhomas said when he saw him. “You remember Ben.”

“Of course. As you're the chairman of the Water Storage Committee, I assume I'll work for you—that is, if you still want my suggestions.”