The Mavericks (10 page)

“You mean wanting to wring my neck.”

“Probably, but that still means he's thinking about you.”

“I'd rather not have a man think about me if he's going to contemplate my murder.”

Suzette laughed.

Josie didn't like it when anyone laughed at her. In her experience, laughter was never about fun unless people were drunk. “Why are you laughing?”

Suzette shook her head, continued to smile. “It must be worse than I thought. I've never heard such foolishness come out of your mouth before.”

“I'm just tired.” Josie didn't try to hide her irritation. “It's been a long day.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No. Let's keep going as long as possible. I don't want to spend one night more than necessary in this desert.” She let her gaze roam over the forbidding landscape. “I can't imagine why we ever decided to travel on our own.”

“Because
you
didn't want a man telling you what to do even if we'd hired him to do exactly that.”

Josie decided she needed to get down from the wagon, but even though they were within sight of the river, she didn't see a good place to camp for the night. Thickets of acacia, sagebrush, ironwood, creosote bush, and mesquite choked the bank of the river. Damp mud—evidence of recent rain—covered the only open area. The desert was so choked with thorny plants it would have been nearly impossible to spend as much as an hour here without getting at least one thorn buried deep in their flesh. Josie had seen what cactus thorns could do, and she was determined it wasn't going to happen to her.

“I'll drive if your shoulders are too tired.” Josie reached for the reins. “You can lie down until I find a good place to stop.”

Suzette held the reins away from Josie, a motion that caused the mules to throw up their heads and snort in protest before lowering their heads and continuing as though nothing had happened. “I'll drive, you look.”

Moments later they reached a spot where the river divided into two channels. The low banks on each side were relatively clear of vegetation and rocks. “This looks like a great spot to stop for the night.”

Suzette turned the mules off the trail, and the wagon bounced over a rock-filled streambed until they reached a wide, sandy area. Relieved when the wheels didn't sink deeper than two inches, Suzette pulled the wagon to a stop and put on the brake. She tied the reins to the brake, arched her back, and hunched her shoulders.

“It feels good to stop.”

Josie climbed down from the driver's seat. “I'll take care of the mules.”

“
I'll
take care of the mules,” Suzette said. “You start the fire.”

“What makes you think I can start a fire?” Josie knew she sounded petulant, but she was tired of people assuming that just because she cared about her appearance and her comfort, she couldn't do anything practical. The fact that she wanted to forget every minute she'd spent on that farm growing up didn't mean she'd actually forgotten everything she'd learned.

“You can do anything you want,” Suzette said. “I just want to take care of the mules because I like animals. Hawk is great with them. You ought to see him.”

Josie had started to climb into the wagon to get the things they needed to prepare supper, but she backed down and walked around the end of the wagon so she could see Suzette. “Let's agree not to mention Zeke or Hawk ever again,” she said.

“Ever?”

“Okay, just for tonight, then. We've got to fix supper, eat, clean up, and get to bed. It's been a long day and we need a good night's sleep.” Josie pulled out the bag of provisions, then set about gathering wood. The river had washed plenty of debris up on the sandbar, but she was looking for mesquite and ironwood. Mesquite burned fast and hot, while ironwood coals would still be glowing in the morning. She didn't find any ironwood, but she found plenty of cottonwood, mesquite, and some juniper that had been washed down from the slopes. She had the fire started by the time Suzette finished unharnessing and picketing the mules.

“Since we're not thinking about the men,” Suzette said when she returned, “we should think about making some changes in our act.”

“Why? It's good like it is, and nobody in Tombstone has ever seen it.” They had used the same five songs with their accompanying dances for two years. Though she and Suzette could do the act in their sleep, the men never seemed to tire of it. “Will you get the water?”

Suzette reached for the bucket hanging on the side of the wagon. “Our act needs to be great, not just good. You know I don't want to spend the rest of my life going from one mining town to another. I need to make a lot of money if I'm going to go back to Quebec to help my sister make a good marriage.”

“Don't worry. You'll make plenty of money. Now go get the water. I've been thinking about that ham Mrs. Pettinger gave us ever since noon.”

Suzette went off to get the water, but Josie's thoughts weren't on a new act or a new town. She was wondering where Zeke and Hawk were, if they'd
stopped for the night or if they were pushing on, trying to get as close to their ranch as possible.

And as far away from her and Suzette as they could.

Dammit! What was it about that man she couldn't forget?

Suzette gave up trying to go back to sleep, but she didn't get up. It wouldn't be dawn for another half hour or so. For the rest of last evening, they hadn't mentioned either of the men who'd invaded their thoughts, but both knew they were thinking about them. Suzette turned on her side in an effort to get more comfortable, but not even a thick quilt could soften the impact of the ground on her body. The sand had proved hard and uncomfortable. Suzette wondered how Hawk could sleep on the ground night after night and not seem to mind it. She would be glad to reach Tombstone and sleep in a bed again.

She wondered how often Hawk came into Tombstone. The two men couldn't stay on that ranch all the time. Even if they didn't want to see other people, they needed supplies. She wondered if they ever went to saloons, if they enjoyed watching the dancers and singers, how often they sought the company of women. They weren't as young and randy as many of the miners who had come to the saloon in Globe, but it only took one look to see that Hawk was still in the prime of his life, physically active and brimming with good health.

Thinking of Hawk, visualizing his body—the way he sat tall in the saddle, the grace with which he moved around camp—ignited a small flame of need in her belly. The longer she lay there picturing Hawk in her
mind, imagining what it would be like to touch him, to feel his powerful muscles move under her fingertips, to experience the warmth of his skin against her own, the more the flame grew, until she was unable to lie still. She felt too hot to remain under her covers, yet shivers sent chills through her body. She didn't want to admit it, but she could no more put Hawk out of her mind than Josie could banish Zeke from hers. Her attraction was physical, while Josie's was psychological, but she wasn't sure that made any practical difference.

Unable to remain still any longer, Suzette threw back the covers and sat up. Her shoulders were stiff from holding the reins the day before. She rotated them, almost enjoying the ache of her stiff muscles. Next she rolled her neck from side to side.

“You look like you're drunk.”

Suzette looked up to see Josie climbing down from the wagon. “My whole body is stiff. How about you?”

“I tossed and turned too much to get stiff. Just sore.”

Suzette bent forward from the waist, feeling the ache as her muscles stretched. “I don't know what it is about holding reins and sleeping on the ground that's so different from dancing for several hours, but I've never felt this stiff in the morning.”

“It's the cold air,” Josie said, pulling her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. “I need some coffee to warm up. Are there any coals left?”

“I haven't looked.” There would have been if Hawk or Zeke had made the fire. They seemed to know everything without having to think about it.

“I'll look for some wood. We'll need it regardless.”

“Don't go too far, and be careful not to pick up any
thing with thorns. I'm not as good as Hawk when it comes to medicine.”

“I know more than I want to know about cactus and the wounds they make,” Josie said. “You keep forgetting that I grew up on a farm. Come to think of it, why don't I start the fire and you look for firewood? You can bring the mules in at the same time.”

“I'll be glad to.” Suzette put on her boots, threw a blanket over her shoulders, and headed off.

Digging among the ashes, Josie located one coal that burned red when she blew on it. She shredded some leaves, sprinkled them on the coal, then blew on it until the leaves burst into flame. To this she added twigs, choosing larger and larger ones until she had built up a steady blaze. Being careful to avoid the thorns, she laid a couple of dry mesquite branches across the fire and kept adding kindling until the branches caught. Confident the fire wouldn't go out, she grabbed a bucket and walked down to the river to get water. When she returned, she poured some into a pot, then put it on the fire to boil for coffee. She was about to take out the bacon to slice when Suzette returned, her arms full of wood but her expression worried.

“I can't find the mules,” she said. “They must have wandered off during the night.”

“Maybe we should just point the mules in their direction,” Zeke said to Hawk as he led their saddled horses into the campsite. “They won't be happy when they find out we know how inept they are.”

The sun had just peeped over the horizon, its warm rays quickly dispelling the chill of the night. Birds and small animals scratched among dry leaves looking for something to eat before taking refuge during the heat of the day. Zeke and Hawk had finished their breakfast, but finding the mules with their horses had forced them to postpone their departure.

“They'll be too glad we found the mules to be angry with us,” Hawk said.

Zeke kicked more sand on the campfire to make sure it was out. “That may be true of Suzette,” he said, “but Josie won't be happy to see my face.”

“Then I'll take the mules myself.”

“That's because you want to see Suzette.”

“So what if I do?”

A small vessel in Hawk's temple began to throb, an infallible sign he was getting angry. Zeke directed his gaze to the job of rolling up his bedroll. “You can't go getting interested in a female now. Think about the ranch.”

Hawk snatched up his saddlebags and tied them to his saddle. “And I suppose you're not
interested
in Josie.”

Zeke tied his bedroll with two strips of rawhide. “It wouldn't matter if I were.”

Zeke didn't want to go within a hundred yards of Josie, yet neither would he let Hawk take the mules to the women by himself. He
hated
it when part of him wanted to do one thing and the rest of him wanted to do just the opposite. And all because of a woman who couldn't stand him. What was wrong with him? He'd never done anything like this before. He might have liked a woman who didn't return his interest, but he'd always been able to shrug his infatuation off and turn his attention elsewhere. Why couldn't he do that with Josie? Hell, he'd only been around her three days. How could a woman get her hooks in a man that quickly? He packed the rest of the supplies in his saddlebags and stood. “Let's finish packing up, and we'll both take the mules over.”

They didn't speak, but their abrupt motions spoke eloquently of the tension between them. Five minutes later they were headed to where the women had camped, each leading a mule. Angry at the whole situation, Zeke charged into the lead. He dodged a cholla cactus only to nearly fall into a prickly pear.

“Watch where you're going,” Hawk said. “We can't afford to have you laid up with a dozen poison thorns in your hide.”

The mule Zeke was leading looked nearly as disgusted as Hawk sounded. “I was thinking,” he said.

“I could tell. You've got that
Josie
look about you.”

Zeke ground a small barrel cactus beneath his boot, then spun around to face Hawk. “What the hell is a
Josie
look?” He was tempted to knock the smile off Hawk's face.

“It's this vacant look,” Hawk said, “like you aren't aware of anything around you.”

Zeke turned and plunged ahead. “I was aware of you the whole time. It's hard not to be when you insist upon wearing that damned feather.”

Zeke had done his best to convince Hawk that wearing rawhide leggings was okay as long as he wore a normal shirt. He could even wear moccasins if he wanted. But a single feather, even one discreetly hanging down from the back of his headband, would bring out the worst in people who feared or hated Indians. Zeke wasn't sure Hawk actually
wanted
to wear the feather. He thought it was Hawk's way of forcing people to recognize he was different and accept him anyway.

“You weren't aware of that cactus,” Hawk said.

Zeke swung his arm in an arc that encompassed half the Arizona Territory. “There are cactus all around us. It's impossible to be aware of all of them.” A hundred yards from the river, the landscape was virtually bare of anything except cactus until they encountered the beginning of the junipers and pinyon pine on the lower flanks of the Santa Catalina Mountains to the west and the Galiuro Mountains to the east.

“How many times have you walked into a cholla?”

“Never. The damned things are poisonous.”

“Exactly.”

Zeke made a point to give the next cholla a wide berth, but that just made Hawk chuckle. Zeke's fist clenched around the lead rope. He wasn't about to let Hawk get to him. If he did, Hawk would tease him unmercifully. Neither one of them would hesitate to give his life for the other, but they were also each other's severest critic. Outside of Isabelle, that is. She was
everybody's
severest critic.