The Lover (11 page)

“I'll find y'all, then,” Nat said. “We can hold my herd all the way back here tonight if you don't have enough room and not throw 'em all together until we head out up the trail.” He started to turn his horse, then stopped. “Tell Eagle Jack we'll be here directly,” Nat Straight said, as he wheeled his horse.

“Will you be here for supper?”

Again, the tip of the hat.

“Yes, ma'am,” he said, “along about that time. But thank you kindly, we got our cook wagon with us.”

Susanna watched him ride away. Surely she had heard him wrong about throwing the herds together to go up the trail. Eagle Jack would have said something to her about it if he had plans like that.

Wouldn't he?

 

By the time Eagle Jack got back from the river, Susanna had picked the bedgrounds where the drovers were beginning to settle the herd—she'd done a mighty fine job of it—and she was sitting on a log somebody had dragged up to the fire, scooping more coals onto the top of the Dutch
oven. Evidently, she was in charge of the sourdough biscuits again, and he was glad. The ones she made were the best he'd ever eaten. Maynell was frying steaks.

And some cowboy was walking from his ground-tied horse into camp, clearly headed toward Susanna. He took another look. It was his trail boss, Nat Straight. He'd know that swagger anywhere.

“Nat!”

At Eagle Jack's shout, he turned and came out to meet him.

Eagle Jack dismounted and they shook hands.

“We're holding the herd a couple of miles back,” Nat said. “Figured you'd wanta wait and throw 'em together when we head on out.”

“Sounds good,” Eagle Jack said. “How's their condition?”

“Fat 'n' sassy,” Nat said. “We took it slow after we got your message.” He gave Eagle Jack a look. “Wish
I
was in as good a shape as the herd.”

“What's the matter with you?”

“Nearly had a heart attack a while ago.”

“What happened?” Eagle Jack asked.

“That pretty lady over there told me she's your wife. I swear, it was a shock to my system, Eagle Jack. I come within a hair of swallowing my tobacco.”

Annoyance stabbed at Eagle Jack, irritation that this silly marriage farce had carried over to his
home territory. Nat was one of the best cowboys on the Sixes and Sevens and there were eight or ten more men from the home ranch with the herd. He hadn't thought about them and the married-up story he and Susanna were telling.

He'd pay hell if his mother heard it—she'd been hoping and praying he'd get married and settle down for so long that this would make her hysterical with happiness. She'd never believe that it was only a tale for the trail.

He needed to correct Nat's thinking.

“Aw, that's just—” He bit his tongue.

Nat would be with all them the rest of the drive. The man was a big talker and he could never keep a secret, no matter how trivial.

Besides, talking and gossip and jokes and foolishness were about the only entertainment for everyone on the long, hard journey. No sense providing any ammunition.

The men who were with him and Susanna believed they were married and if they heard differently now, their trust in him as a leader would be broken.

Trust meant life or death on the trail.

Besides, he couldn't make Susanna out to be a liar. She was the one who had told this to Nat.

“…just somethin' I did on the spur of the moment,” Eagle Jack said.

Nat laughed. “Well, she must be as quick as she is beautiful if she could get you hog-tied and
branded before you could get home from one short jaunt to Salado,” he said. “Did you know her very long?”

“Nope,” Eagle Jack said, and started them walking toward the fire. “Just met her that trip.”

He needed to get them into the middle of some more people. Enough of this heart-to-heart. Nat always was as curious as a cat, no matter what the subject or the situation.

Now he'd have to try to send word, somehow, to his mother about what the real situation was. There'd be opportunities, from time to time, to send and receive letters at trading posts and towns they might visit, and Nat had a lot of girlfriends back home. One of them even worked for his mother.

This news would travel fast because nobody had ever thought that Eagle Jack would settle down.

His mind was spinning. It was too late now, since they'd already spread the story, and he guessed all this intrigue was necessary. Even with Maynell and Jimbo along as chaperones, it would save a whole lot of problems if everyone believed Susanna was married to him.

She stood up and turned to them as they approached. “Well, hello,” she said. “I see y'all have found each other.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Nat said, with a tip to his hat. “I hope you won't hold it against me none for ap
pearin' here at your fire after I declined your offer of supper.”

“Not at all,” Susanna said, giving Nat a bright smile, “you're more than welcome.”

Now that was a smile that was totally unnecessary, in Eagle Jack's opinion.

The men were coming in by twos and threes to eat and she began helping get the food ready. Eagle Jack watched her bend over and brush the coals off the lid of the oven, thinking how small her waist was and how lush the curve of her breasts.

The heat from the fire made her face glow.

He saw that Nat was watching her, too.

A shaft of resentment stabbed through him. He turned to Marvin and his cohorts, who were picking up their plates from the tail of the chuck wagon.

“Men,” he said, “I want you all to meet Nat Straight. He's trail boss for my beef herd that's joining us here. The two herds together will make us about four thousand head to trail to Abilene.”

He saw, from the corner of his eye, Susanna's surprised turn toward him and felt her gaze on him. She said nothing, however.

They all shook hands with Nat as Eagle Jack introduced them each by name. Then he introduced Maynell and Susanna.

“You're throwing another herd in with ours?” Maynell asked bluntly.

“Yes.”

“And they've got their own chuck wagon.”

It wasn't a question, but Eagle Jack answered it anyway. “That's right.”

He went to the wagon to get a plate for himself.

“Then who's the cook?”

Maynell's belligerent tone made him turn to face her. She planted her fists on her hips. In one hand she held a long-handled wooden spoon like a weapon.

Uh-oh. He'd expected a few fireworks from Cookie but not from Maynell. He tried to think fast.

“You mean on this wagon?”

“I mean on this trail drive where you're talking two herds in one. You aim for me to cook for another whole crew of men?”

“No, Maynell,” Eagle Jack said, keeping his tone calm. “In fact, you don't have to cook at all if you don't want to. The other herd has a cook who's been up the trail several times and he can cook for everybody.”

Maynell snorted.

“Hmpf. Never seen a man yet who could cook vittles fittin' to eat. I ain't looking to starve nor t' let y'all starve, neither.”

Eagle Jack picked up a tin cup and went to the coffeepot. He tried to make sure of what Maynell was saying.

“If you want to keep on doing what you've been doing, Maynell, that'll be fine.”

Cookie would throw one of his famous fits at the very thought of competition, not to mention the waste of building two fires for every meal, heating two pans of water to clean the dishes, and maybe some men getting better food than others. Darn! Why hadn't he left Maynell at home?

He thought of the right thing to say just in time.

“You think about it,” he said. “If you want to specialize in such things as pies and cobblers and fluff-duff and raisin pudding and bear sign and such, you can.” He finished filling his cup and turned to give her a smile. “Nobody can make pie like you can, Maynell, no matter how many times he's been up the trail.”

She smiled back at him.

“Always did like a brown-eyed handsome man who appreciates a little something sweet,” she said. “It's pudding tonight.”

Then she carried her spoon to the fire and used it to stir the beans.

Pleased with himself, he finished serving himself some of everything and walked to a spot out on the grass between Nat and Marvin. He crossed his feet, balanced his plate in one hand and his cup in the other, and let his knees move outward to lower himself to sit.

But he felt Susanna's gaze on him again. It was so strong it seemed to hold him up in the air. He looked at her, but he couldn't see the approbation
there that he had expected. She looked angry, as a matter of fact.

Why, he couldn't possibly say. She should be happy that he'd saved her from having to listen to Maynell's tirades for the rest of the trip. And he'd done it pretty darn smoothly, at that.

Yep. That was one small problem solved.

Now, if he could only have the same good luck with the big ones.

E
agle Jack balanced his plate on the calves of his legs, set his coffee cup on the ground beside him, and began to eat. He had plenty more pressing problems to think about than who thought he was married and who didn't and who was going to be cooking what for the two crews of drovers.

They were two crews now but they'd have to mold themselves into one and do it in a hurry. A river crossing, no matter how easy it looked, was always one of the most dangerous undertakings on the trail. A million things could go wrong and every man of them had to be alert and willing to do what had to be done. If they didn't work together, somebody could die, a lot of valuable cattle could be lost, or both.

He glanced around while he cut another bite of
his steak. Nat was a good swimmer, so he ought to send him to look for another spot. If a place looked likely, Nat could swim it to judge the depth of the water and the strength of the current.

If they couldn't ford it, though, the wagons would be the trouble, and he might as well accept the fact right now that that would be the case. If there was another good, shallow crossing on this section of the Brazos, he'd never heard of it, and he'd lived in the area all his life.

His only hope for the wagons would be the ferry near a little town called Sycamore. He glanced at the western sky. There was still a lot of daylight left, and a man on a fast horse could get to the ferry and back by midnight. The evenings were steadily getting longer and there'd be a big moon.

He looked around the fire. Marvin's buddy, Rod Cooper, would be a good choice. He was young and full of vinegar and always wanting to horse around and play jokes at bedtime, no matter how hard he'd worked that day. He could put some of that energy to good use.

Everyone ate fast and in silence, as was the custom. When each man finished eating, he went to the wreck pan and threw his dirty plate in. Some kept their coffee cups and refilled them and then gathered again to talk a little. Supper was the only meal of the day that they could ever linger at the fire.

They would be expecting Nat to tell what news he'd gathered coming up the trail and the happenings that had befallen his herd. A new man in camp was expected to offer entertainment in exchange for his food, but they were out of luck tonight because he had a job for Nat to do.

Eagle Jack spoke to Nat quietly and then to Rod. Both of them started for their horses.

As Eagle Jack turned back to the other men, he noticed that Nat gave a smile and a farewell tip of his hat to Susanna as he passed her and that he said something to Maynell. Nat would leave no stone unturned when it came to finding favor with the ladies.

Of course, he had to admit that Nat had a powerful sweet tooth, so he had a reason to be friendly with the cooks. He wasn't necessarily flirting with Susanna.

And he himself had a soft spot in his brain. What the
hell
was he doing noticing who talked to Susanna—who was
not
his wife—when he had big trouble ahead and more decisions to make than a Philadelphia lawyer?

A shocking thought struck him. When Nat arrived and mentioned the silly fake marriage, he'd thought about that so much that he hadn't even thought to ask Nat if he'd heard anything about Molly!

Molly was fast enough to be famous throughout the Southwest. Horsemen all over Central
Texas knew she belonged at the Sixes and Sevens. Nat might've heard something about her whereabouts, but now he'd have to wait until Nat came back to even ask about her.

He sighed as he walked back to the fire. Damn it. He was losing his mind and he needed every bit of brain power he'd ever had to get these herds across the river.

“Men,” he said, “I'm sending Nat to look for another spot where we can get across the Brazos. I just got back from the ford and there are five herds already holding there.”

“Then we'd have to hold here,” somebody said.

“Right. The grazing near the ford is already taken up by the waterbound herds, so we can't crowd in there and we'll be behind them all the way if we stay on the trail.”

“How long they been there?” Marvin asked.

“The river's been impassable for a week.” Eagle Jack took a minute to look each man in the eye. Swollen rivers were as sure as stampedes to make drovers nervous and on edge. They'd have to trust him on this and he'd have to make the right choices to get it done with no loss of life.

“We gonna swim the wagon over?” Maynell asked.

She sounded as calm as if this happened to her every day.

He turned to look at her. “I'm hoping the Sycamore ferry's running so I can send the wag
ons around that way. Rod's gone to find out if they are.”

“My mules are swimmers,” Maynell said, and turned back to her work.

That surprised Eagle Jack. He'd expected her to get into one of her famous swivets at the thought of floating her wagon on a swift-running river.

Susanna didn't even glance at him. She went to the wreck pan and picked it up, then took it around to the other side of the wagon. Eagle Jack followed her.

“We'll know when Rod gets back,” he told her, “but if the ferry's not operating, you'll have to get the wagon ready to go in the water. Break the supplies down into packages that can be carried by a man horseback and lash the bedrolls to the top…”

She set the pan on the fold-down shelf and turned to face him. “Don't give me orders, Eagle Jack. I'll just take my herd and boss it myself and go on, since Maynell's not scared to swim the river.”

He couldn't believe he'd heard her right.

“What are you talking about?”

“We'll be short a man without you, but I'll take your place.”

She turned her back on him, picked up the hot water bucket, and poured some onto the dirty dishes. Anger blossomed in his gut like a fire on the prairie.

“Did you ever think that if you can't hire men, you can't boss them, either? Now stop this nonsense and listen to me. We've got to get ready to cross this river.”

She flashed him a look that would singe the paint off a barn. “Oh, yes. When it comes time to give orders, you can talk to me just fine.”

“I don't have the patience for riddles,” he said, and turned to go.

“Stay right where you are,” she said. “And
you
listen to
me
.”

Grudgingly, he stopped.

“Don't ever try to feed me that line of palaver again, Eagle Jack Sixkiller,” she said. “All that about how much I'm learning and how skillful I'm becoming and how I'm your valued segundo and your right-hand, trail-driving woman.”

Stunned, he thought about that. He whirled on his heel and faced her.

“What do you mean, line of palaver? I meant what I told you.”

“But you didn't tell me you had another herd coming to meet us.”

Perplexed, he stared at her. “It was my business.”

“Mine, too. Another herd thrown in with mine affects my business plenty.”

“It's the other way around, Susanna. Your wet herd slows down my beef herd.”

“You still should've told me.”

“I told you tonight.”

“When you told everybody else.”

He held her steady gaze. “Yes.”

“Well, what about that promise way back there before we got to Brushy Creek? The promise that we'd make decisions together?”

He lost all patience. “Susanna, get a handle on this. The decision that we'd trail these herds together was already made—the minute I accepted your offer in the jail.”

“You never said a word about it to me when you were calling me ‘partner' and you had every opportunity to do so.”

“I would never have agreed to your deal if I hadn't already been going up the trail. You're just lucky, that's all.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes. Lucky that I hired someone who lies to me. Lucky as a four-leaf clover.”

“Save your sarcasm. Get this wagon ready to cross the river.” He wheeled and started to walk away, then stopped and turned back. “And I've never lied to you. I don't take kindly to your saying that.”

She advanced on him, dishcloth and tin plate in hand. She shook them at him.

“You most certainly have lied to me. Lies of omission. Those are lies, too, you know.”

“You've been out in the sun too long. Wear your bonnet tomorrow.”

“I'll wear what I please. You're the one who's sun-addled if you think you can relegate me to sitting underneath a bonnet on the seat of the cook wagon. I aim to cross my own cattle tomorrow—my fate and my fortune are in the hands of no man.”

He was so mad he didn't dare speak to her. Despite the blood roaring in his head, he made himself bite his tongue and walk away.

All he cared about was that she didn't do something foolish tomorrow and cause a disaster. He didn't care what she thought of him personally. This was nothing but strictly a business deal, pretend marriage or not.

It was hard to imagine how she could be any more trouble to him if the marriage
were
real.

 

Nat came back around midnight and Rod an hour or so after that. Susanna knew, because she didn't fall asleep until the graveyard shift came in and the bobtail guard took over duty to watch the cattle for the tail end of the night until breakfast.

Eagle Jack was still up, sitting by the fire drinking coffee, when Nat came in. She heard the low murmur of their voices but she couldn't catch a single word, which added to her frustration.

It made no difference. Frustration wasn't important. What was important, what made all the
difference, was determination. She had learned that from a thousand different lessons since Everett had been gone.

She had meant every word she had said to Eagle Jack. Maybe the men wouldn't take bossing from her and maybe she couldn't split her herd off and go her own way to Abilene, but she could
lead
the men in taking care of her herd and that was what she was bound and determined to do.

Let them think they were working for Eagle Jack—she didn't care—but she was going to oversee every detail about her cattle. Eagle Jack had another cook with his herd, Maynell didn't need help to make only desserts, and she, Susanna, might as well do what she'd set out to do in the first place before she found out men were so all-fired stubborn about working for a woman: drive a herd up the trail to Kansas.

So, when she heard Maynell climb down from the wagon at dawn to wake the wrangler in charge of the remuda (usually that was Jimbo), Susanna rolled out, put on her clothes, and then strapped on Everett's handgun that she'd been wearing ever since their short-lived stampede. She'd also be scouting on her own sometimes, now. No telling what danger she might meet.

Quickly, with the ease of a growing habit, she tied her bedroll and got everything ready to load on the wagon.

She had just stepped out of the tent when she heard a rider coming in from the west.

The newcomer was at the fire drinking coffee with Eagle Jack by the time she'd stowed everything in the wagon. Susanna joined them.

“Tolly Walters, ma'am,” the man said, as he stood and tipped his hat, “of the Rafter W.”

“Susanna Copeland with the Slanted S herd,” she said, and briskly filled her coffee cup before she sat down on the log beside him.

Eagle Jack gave her a horrified look, raised his eyebrows, and waited for her to leave, but she ignored him. Anything the stranger had to say that could affect her herd was imperative for her to hear.

It didn't seem to bother Tolly that she was a woman inviting herself into men's conversation.

“So what we're doing is building a bridge across a slough upstream where the river's already gone down,” Tolly said. “That gets us across to the bank of the shallowest part of the river without bogging in the mud.”

“As long as it'll take to build a bridge, the whole riverbed will be down to a trickle,” Eagle Jack said. “And it's a day's drive to get there. We might as well just sit around the fire and wait for the water to go down if we're gonna hold up here that long.”

That didn't even dent Tolly's enthusiasm. “It won't take more than a day if you'll bring your
men to help,” he said. “We've already got our outfit and the Broken O boys.”

“You've got cowboys working on foot, felling trees and stacking brush so you can drive your cattle across a bridge, onto a little spit of land and then you still have to swim them across the river,” Eagle Jack said. “Could be low enough we could even ford it by tomorrow or the next day.”

Tolly grinned and shook his head. “Buildin' a bridge beats heck out of hundreds of cattle gettin' drowned or scattered plumb to kingdom come.”

“Have to be a heck of bridge,” Eagle Jack said.

“We'd have to keep them moving at all costs,” Susanna said, “onto the bridge and into the river. No hesitating.”

“Yes,
ma'am
,” said the cheerful Tolly. “Once the leaders take the bridge, we can't let 'em even think about stopping. Especially with two more herds behind them.”

“But we can't crowd 'em, either,” Eagle Jack reminded them.

“Nope,” Tolly said, and he took a sip of coffee, “then we're liable to have 'em mill and that'd be hell on the bridge
or
in the water.”

While Maynell finished cooking breakfast, the three of them talked about it from every angle they could see. It felt good. Susanna loved it. Both men were listening to what she said and taking her ideas into consideration.

“It'll take you a day to drive your cattle up
there, and another day, probably, for us all to finish the bridge,” Tolly said. “That'll still put our herds way ahead of the five waterbound outfits. This ford's not going to be passable for another week.”

Susanna held her breath. Tolly had convinced her and she thought they ought to do this but she was afraid to say that in so many words. Then Eagle Jack might feel she was pushing him and do the opposite. At least, that's the way Everett had been.