River Song (39 page)

Muttering to himself, Sean kicked a clump of dirt high in the air as he made his way back to Eileen. "I wish to hell I'd have made Sunny come with me when I left the ranch," he complained. "This waiting around is getting on my nerves."

Fingers trembling, Eileen reached for his hand and coaxed him down in the soft earth beside her. "There's still another hour before dawn. We've got plenty of time for our getaway."

"I don't know," he grumbled, scratching his head. "What if your mother's wrong and your pa
comes
after us? I hate to think we'll just be sitting here waiting for him to come and shoot us like a couple of crippled prairie dogs."

"Sean," she whispered, "
don't
fret so.
Everything's
gonna be all right now. I feel it. I just know it." To conceal the fresh batch of misty tears veiling her eyes, Eileen lowered her lids and smiled.

As a child, her pa had never allowed her to cry, expecting that even when beaten she should control herself. By the time she was a young woman, mastery of those undesirable emotions was complete. Even in pain, Eileen had learned to rob her pa of the satisfaction of seeing her tears, finding a way to swallow and choke on them before Daniel Hobbs would have the chance to know he'd made her cry.

Funny, she thought, fresh tears ready to spill from her eyes. Now that she was free and knew he couldn't touch her anymore, she could scarcely keep from drowning in them. She tried to sniff them back, but a sob
hiccuped
out of her throat.

Sean forgot his agitation and the sense of urgency when he realized Eileen was crying. "Hey, take it easy. Don't pay any attention to me. We're in no danger." He slid a cautious arm around her shoulders and squeezed lightly. "I'm just in a hurry to be on my way and out of this town. I didn't mean to make you worry."

"You didn't," she sniffed as she pressed her head against his shoulder, drawing comfort from his strength. "I'm sorry, but I can't seem to stop crying." She paused and took a deep breath, hoping to calm her sobs. "I feel so relieved, so
safe
with you, I guess I'm a little overwhelmed."

Her reply touched him in places usually guarded from anyone but his family. With an inward groan, Sean eased back on the soft mat of grass and earth, careful to keep her head cradled against his chest. Using his hips as tools, Sean burrowed out a smooth resting area. Then he stretched out the full length of his body and encouraged Eileen to do the same.

She snuggled against him, curled into a comfortable position, and sighed peacefully. "Rest," she murmured against the cotton of his shirt. "If I could just get a little sleep, I'd be fine."

Eileen's strawberry-colored eyelashes sagged against her freckled cheeks, prompting Sean to blow a kiss and drag a gentle fingertip along the curve of her chin.

"Go ahead, fragile one," he murmured gruffly. "I will watch over you." Noting her bruised and swollen lip, the final monument to Daniel Hobbs's abuse, Sean added, "You are safe now. I will keep you that way."

While he wasn't fool enough to think he could protect her from society's barbs, or their
insults, Sean was
satisfied he'd just made a vow he could keep. Somehow, he would find a way to keep this promise, even if it turned out to be the last thing he ever did.

A sudden yawn acknowledged his own exhaustion, and Sean rubbed at his burning eyes,
then
closed them. Maybe it was for the best that they had another hour before Sunny was due to join them. They wouldn't be able to put much distance between the tree grove and Pleasant Valley if they didn't take the time to refresh themselves for the long journey ahead.

Sean's eyes suddenly opened—searching, scanning. He sniffed the air for unusual odors, the smell of death, or fear. And he listened for noises that didn't belong in the desert, for the telltale sounds of silence.

Satisfied they were alone, that Sunny would be their only visitor during the next hour, Sean relaxed and drifted off to sleep.

Cole approached the bedroom where Sunny slept. He ran his fingers over the scrollwork on the oak door, caressing the ridges and valleys as he'd caressed her body the night before.

"Sunny?" he called softly.

When no sweet voice answered, Cole thought of knocking, of waking her from her slumber, but he shook his head and ambled on down the hallway instead. After the night she'd given him, she could sleep all day if that's what she wanted, he thought with a chuckle.

Halfway down the stairs, Cole heard Nathan's voice drifting up from the landing.

"And make sure that coffee's black as a vulture's heart."

Cole negotiated the remaining steps and met his father at the bottom of the stairs. "Morning, Dad."

"Oh, morning, son."
Nathan fiddled with his shirt tail and made a great show of smoothing the creases into his waistband. "Look, about last night."

"No need to go over all that." Cole took the Bull Durham tobacco pouch from his pocket and began to roll a cigarette. "Got a minute before breakfast?"

"Sure, son.
Sure."

Cole regarded his father through a thin stream of smoke as he lit the cigarette. He took a deep drag of the rich tobacco and motioned Nathan to follow him outside. Once in the yard, the men strolled in silence until Cole finally came to a halt by his mother's vegetable garden.

"I have a few things to tell you, Dad. Tell you, not discuss with you. I hope I can count on you just to listen and maybe try to understand a little."

"Well, sure, whatever you want."

A puff of blue smoke
proceeded
his first announcement. "I'm leaving the ranch, Dad.
Your ranch.
I'm going to start building on my property sometime next week."

"But Cole, you know the Triple F pretty much belongs to you now."

"I asked you to listen, that's all. If you want to get yourself all worked up and blow your heart in a million pieces, that's up to you. You won't do it in front of me, however."

Clearly uncomfortable with anything but the lead in a conversation, Nathan's features puckered up like the pleating on a store-bought dress. But he shrugged and relented. "Sorry. Go ahead."

"I don't have to tell you the trouble the cattle industry is in, and frankly, I'm getting kinda sick of the smell of them." He inhaled another drag of smoke. "I've already put in my order for shipment of the herd I plan to
raise
over by the Verde River."

"Not sheep," Nathan bellowed, unable to stop himself.

"No, Dad, you can relax. I wouldn't do that to you or our neighbors."

Nathan scratched his head.
"If not sheep or cattle, then what?
Pigs?"

Cole's grin dropped his mustache on one side. He brushed his finger between his upper
lip
and nose several times, then shrugged and said, "Ostriches. I intend to build the biggest ostrich ranch this side of the Pacific Ocean."

Nathan's mouth dropped open and he cocked his head to one side.
"
Ostriches
,
son?
You mean them big, ugly birds from Africa?"

Cole nodded and took another drag from his cigarette as his father absorbed the information.

Nathan sputtered and shook his head before he could speak clearly. "Why, that's the craziest thing I ever heard of. It's absolutely ridiculous. What'd you want with ostriches?"

Cole leveled his gaze and pointed a finger at his father. "You said you'd listen. Calm down now, or this conversation is over."

Nathan held up his hands in surrender. "All right, you win. Go on."

"I'll give you a brief rundown, but before I do, I want you to remember this is more than a crazy idea. It's done, and there will be no discussion as to whether I carry these plans out or not.
Deal?"

Nathan's lips turned white as he pressed them together, but he nodded and gestured for Cole to go on.

"I ordered sixteen pairs of breeders while I was in Yuma. They're due in from San Diego sometime over the next two weeks."

"Excuse me?" When Cole sighed and turned his palm up, Nathan continued. "Just how do these birds plan to get here from Africa and San Diego? Fly?"

"Now, Dad," Cole said with a clear warning in his voice. "In case you're not aware of it, an ostrich can't fly. They'll come from Africa by boat and arrive from San Diego by train. I thought I'd meet them in Yuma and escort them back here myself."

Nathan's lip quivered, but he held his laughter. "That's very thoughtful of you, son. May I ask how you plan to make them feel at home once they're here and feel the blistering heat of Arizona in the summer, and why you even want to?"

Ignoring his father's sarcasm, Cole explained. "First, these birds come from the plains of Africa, remember? A summer in Arizona will be like a vacation in the White Mountains for them. Second?" Cole's grin returned,
then
doubled.
"Profit, pure and simple."

"From what?
Feathers?
What kinda profit can you hope to gain from a few ostrich feathers?"

"A tremendous profit, Dad.
One of these birds eats no more than four pounds of feed a day compared to the forty or so consumed by a single steer."

He watched Nathan calculating the figures and crushed the cigarette beneath his boot heel, before adding, "And water. I can't even guess how much less water I'll need, but the difference is appreciable."

"All right," Nathan broke in, "so it doesn't cost so much to raise these critters. I still don't see how you can make it with them alone."

"Supply and demand.
That's all there is to it."

"So the feathers are kinda popular." Nathan shrugged. "How many can you sell, how many birds you got to go through just to put a couple of decorations on a lady's hat?"

"A hell of a lot more than you
think,
and I don't plan to go through many birds at all. I just have to strip them, and new feathers grow back. I'll have an endless supply and a very tidy profit in the bargain."

Nathan grumbled and shook his head. "I don't know, son. It still sounds crazy as hell and more than a little risky."

"It's my risk, and I've already taken it. I told you this conversation was not open for discussion, and I meant it. If you can keep your promise to listen and withhold your opinions a little longer, not to mention, a little better, there's something else I'd like to tell you about."

Nathan took a breath and opened his mouth, but something in his son's eyes changed the course of his tongue. "Sure. I'd be glad to hear what else you got to say."

"It's about Sunny."

"Aw, Cole," Nathan complained. "Please don't do this to me. My heart can't take it."

"Then I won't."

Without another word, Cole spun on his heel and started back to the ranch.

"Son?"
Nathan called, trailing after him. "Wait up. Can't we talk about this? I'd be glad to hear you out."

The words halted his progress, but when Nathan reached his side, Cole was no longer certain he could keep his temper long enough to tell him what Sunflower meant to him. "Why don't we just forget I mentioned her
name.
"

Nathan's brow smoothed, and his breathing eased. "That's what I wanted to hear. I think
it's
best we both just plain forget about her altogether."