Troubled range (14 page)

The house had a simple lay-out much used in the west. The front consisted of one room, serving as dining-room, sitting-room, lounge, library combined. It was furnished, the furniture not new, but still in good condition. Three doors led off at the rear, two to bedrooms, one into the kitchen.

The dust of a month of emptiness lay everywhere, but apart from that the place appeared to be untouched.

"Tomorrow," Jaya said, looking around her, "we start to clean everything."

"Whatever you say," Johnny replied.

Mark came into the room, halting and looking around him. Turning, Johnny looked at his amigo and grinned, finding it impossible to stay annoyed.

"How'd you like it, Mark?"

"Great. A stout little house with all the furnishings.

You've got a good home here, Johnny boy. I'll go tend to the horses, unless Jaya wants another lesson in horse-handling."

"She don't!" Johnny grunted, before the girl could answer. "I want to show her her room—"

On finding her kitchen, Jaya chased Johnny off out to help Mark with the horses while she started the stove and prepared a meal for them. Johnny joined Mark outside and worked in silence, which Mark knew to be unusual for Johnny.

"Jaya says we're starting house cleaning tomorrow," Mark remarked as he turned the harness horse into one of the corrals. "Reckon she's the boss on that end of the spread."

"Reckon she is," Johnny replied. "You figure it'll be all right for you to stay on here, Mark? Ole Devil might have something for you to handle."

"Nope. He told me to take a few days vacation. So I might as well do it up here, lending you a hand. I wonder if Jaya's got everything she needs in the kitchen?"

"I'll go see," Johnny grunted.

Watching Johnny walk away, Mark grinned broadly. He attended to the horses and when finished, walked to the house. Johnny and Jaya appeared to be getting on much better.

"Johnny boy," Mark thought as he joined them at the table, "you've one foot in the hole and the other on a greasy slope. Just a lil mite more pushing and I'll leave you set up for life."

So Mark kept on the pushing. When he wished, he could talk fascinatingly about a number of things. Jaya listened to his descriptions of the pre-war south, of Maximillian's court in Mexico; and Johnny sat watching the girl, getting more and more sure that he must protect her from Mark.

Not that Johnny cared about her himself. He just did not want to see her hurt—or so he told himself.

The girl showed off another accomplishment, although not one Johnny approved of her doing in mixed company. From her bundle of belongings, she produced a scanty sleeveless blouse and a skirt which seemed to be made of grass, hanging to her knees. Wearing these, and barefoot, she

began to dance. It was a dance like the two men had never seen before, with swaying hips, sensuous writhing body movements.

Johnny felt hot under the collar as she sank to her knees in the dusty room and faced him, leaning her torso back as she writhed and her arms moved gracefully in the pagan dance. He enjoyed every movement of it, but swore she would never again dance like that before another man.

"That is how the native girls dance in the South Sea Islands," she said, rising to her feet. "Did you like?"

"I've never seen better," Mark answered.

"You go put your other dress on now," Johnny put in, for the grass skirt revealed more of the girl's legs than even the Chinese frock had. "You'll catch a cold in that outfit."

Once again Mark could cheerfully have kicked Johnny across the room. The girl wanted his praise, and instead of giving it, telling her how he enjoyed her dance, the durned fool had to make a remark like that.

A very indignant Jaya stormed out of the room, to return wearing the gingham dress. Ignoring Johnny, she began to ask Mark questions about the range, things a woman should know about and which Johnny wished he could be discussing with her.

"It's time we were getting to bed!" he growled, unable to stand it any longer. "You use the bedroom, Jaya. Me 'n' Mark'll bunk down in the barn until we get the place cleaned up."

Not until they had spread their bedrolls in the barn, with Johnny getting between Mark and the door, did the young cowhand speak to his blond amigo.

"Take it easy on Jaya, Mark," he said.

"How do you mean?" Mark asked, straight-faced but enjoying every minute of the situation.

"Shucks, she's not used to being around fellers. She might—you—that is—it's—"

"I thought you hadn't any claim on her," Mark drawled.

"I don't have!" Johnny snapped. "It's just that I feel responsible for her after fetching her out here."

"Do, huh?"

"Sure, I do!"

"1*11 mind what you say," Mark said calmly. "Now let's get some sleep. We've got a big day ahead of us."

And with that, Mark undressed and climbed into his bed. He went to sleep almost immediately, knowing Johnny was willing himself to stay awake until sure he had nothing to fear.

Dawn brought a fresh problem for Johnny. Jaya came to tell them that she Jiad breakfast ready for them.

"What're you wearing that dress for?" he yelled indignantly, for it was the one into which she had changed at the hotel and which caused him to buy her new clothes.

"I have much work to do," she replied. "It is not good that I should dirty my good clothes."

"Yeah, but—"

Sitting up, Mark looked at the girl and interrupted Johnny's protests.

"Man, you look prettier than a June-bug, Jaya," he said.

"Thank you, Mark," she replied. "Johnny thinks I should wear my good dress to work in."

"That'd be real foolish, was you to ask me," Mark drawled.

"Nobody did," Johnny growled.

"I have breakfast ready," Jaya said, in a tone which showed she considered the matter of her dress closed. "Hurry, before it gets cold."

Not even the mood of "to hell with her, let her make a durned fool of herself over him," could last in the face of Jaya's coffee and breakfast. Johnny ate well and even managed to compliment her on her cooking, and her appearance.

With the breakfast over, Jaya gave her orders, and from the way she spoke the men saw they were going to have a hard and busy morning. On leaving the house, Mark removed his shirt and undershirt, putting them with his hat and gunbelt on the wagon box.

"You can't go around like that!" Johnny objected.

"Why not?" Mark replied. "Jaya's been on a ship and likely seen a man's bare chest before now, so why should I get my clothes mussed up?"

"Johnny!" Jaya called, coming to the cabin door. "Will you and Mark come and move the furniture for me?"

"Sure," Johnny replied, stepping hurriedly before Mark in the hope of hiding his naked torso and saving Jaya embarrassment.

"Why don't you take off your shirt, too?" she asked. "It will save me some washing."

For a moment Johnny thought of ignoring the advice. Then he thought why the hell should that big blond bladder of lard get off showing his physique to Jaya. Maybe Mark was a mite bigger, but Johnny reckoned his own build was not exactly so puny that he need be ashamed to show it off. So he stripped off his shirt and left it, hat and gunbelt with Mark's on the wagon.

Not that Johnny had time to stand around and let Jaya admire his well-developed body. If she noticed it at all, Jaya gave no hint. Instead she had the two men working hard, carrying all the furniture out into the space before the house while she heated water.

"She sure has some go for a lil 'un," Johnny said admiringly, looking towards the house.

"Yep, she sure has," Mark agreed. "Let's go clean out the barn while she does her chores in the house."

Despite all his suspicions of Mark's intentions, Johnny went along with the idea. They heard the sound of scrubbing and Jaya's voice as she sang a song in a lilting tongue neither could understand, but which sounded mighty sweet to a man's ears. It made him think of the way Jaya looked in that frock, or how she danced the previous night. Johnny watched Mark, trying to read something in the big blond's face, but could not.

Johnny threw himself into the work before him like a man possessed. The barn needed a good cleaning and that was exactly what it got. Between them, Mark and Johnny did four men's work, lifting, toting, moving bales of hay and straw, and by noon they had cleaned the barn.

By noon Jaya had finished scrubbing the house. She stood in the centre of the main room and looked around her. If that did not please Johnny, she thought, nothing would please him. Perhaps she had been too friendly with Mark, she could

not say, but Johnny had only himself to blame if she had. At that moment Jaya heard the sound of horse's hooves. She wondered who might be calling and, not wishing to disgrace Johnny before his neighbours, she decided to take a moment to tidy her appearance before going outside.

The sound of hooves brought Johnny and Mark's attention to the visitor, as they walked from the barn to the house to fetch Jaya and allow her to inspect and comment on their work.

"Going to need some chickens for Jaya to tend," Mark drawled, then he heard the hooves and turned.

Johnny also turned, saw the on-coming rider and felt suddenly sick in his stomach. Of all the folks he had met during his last visit to the spread, the visitor was the last he expected to see—and the last he wanted to come calling under the circumstances.

Springing from the shaggy scrub horse's bare back, the newcomer dashed forward to throw arms around Johnny's neck and crush a hot little mouth to his.

The newcomer was a girl of about five foot five. Her tawny, curly hair hung in a tangle around a pert, pretty, naive, dirty face. She had a full, rich, magnificent body which a sleeveless, tight fitting, man's old shirt did nothing to conceal, especially as it hung open at the neck and half-way down her round, full bust. The old, patched jeans clung to her hips like she'd been moulded into them, were about knee long and her legs and feet were bare.

"Hello, Tilda-Mae," Johnny said, pushing the girl back to arm's length for her body gave off a stench of stale sweat and lack of soap which had always turned him from her.

"Johnny!" she replied. "I done saw your smoke and come a-running."

She tried to move closer, but he held her off, his hands on the greasy shoulders of her shirt.

"Won't your husband mind you coming over?" he asked.

"Naw! Never gotten married. That feller he took up and run. The boys plumb chased him down to the gully country and let holes in his side. So I'm all free and ready to marry you-all."

"Afe!" Johnny yelped.

"Why sure. Figured it'd be fittin', us going to be neighbours 'n' all."

At that moment Tilda-Mae's eyes caught a glimpse of Mark, jerked towards him and looked him over appraisingly, hungrily.

"Who-all's this here?" she asked.

"My amigo, Mark Counter," Johnny answered hopefully.

"Johnny."

Jaya could not have timed her arrival at a worse moment. Five seconds later and Tilda-Mae would have been throwing herself at Mark with the same reckless abandon that characterised her association with every presentable man who came along.

Whirling from Johnny, Tilda-Mae faced Jaya, suspicion and anger glowing in her eyes.

"Who-all's she?" the girl spat out.

"That's Jaya," Johnny replied, which left a lot unexplained.

"She's your wife?"

"No—" Johnny answered, meaning to say he hoped she would be soon.

"Then she's going now!" Tilda-Mae screamed. "No dirty furrin gal's going to come here and steal my man!"

With that she hurled herself forward, fingers crooked ready to snatch at Jaya's hair. Jaya fell back a couple of paces before the fury of the other girl's rush, a look of numb shock on her face at the words.

The wildly furious mountain girl did not reach Jaya, did not even set a dirty bare foot on the porch. Johnny had been standing staring, suddenly scared at the thought of what Tilda-Mae's words must mean to Jaya. For once in his life, Johnny, who had acted fast in emergencies many times, could not think of what to do.

Springing forward, Mark caught Tilda-Mae around the waist from behind, just as she reached the edge of the porch. He clamped his left arm around her, pinning down her arms as well to her waist. Instantly she began to scream and curse, her strong little body thrashing and struggling against his, her legs thrashing and hacking back.

"Le'me go!" she screamed. "I'll scratch her eyes out! I'll

yank her bald-headed! The dirty, stinking furrin calico-cat! Come here and glomming on to my man!"

"Honest, Jaya!" Johnny gasped, turning to the girl as Mark dragged Tilda-Mae backwards. "I never—"

With a strangled sob, Jaya turned and ran into the house, slamming the door behind her, not even offering to listen to his explanation.

One of Tilda-Mae's heels caught Mark on the shin. Having never worn shoes, the girl's feet were hard enough to pack some power behind them. Mark grunted in pain and annoyance. Then he swung the girl up from her feet, gripping her by the hair and pants seat, hoping the material would hold out. In that manner, keeping her bucking, writhing body at arm's length, Mark carried Tilda-Mae towards the horse-trough. One way or another that foul-mouthed, dirty little mountain girl needed cooling off and a bath. Mark reckoned he was the man to attend to that.

Tilda-Mae gave a scream as she hit the water and disappeared under its surface. Coming up, she started to scream curses so Mark shoved her under again. This time he held her under until he figured she ought to have learned her lesson. A gasping, sobbing, water-spitting girl sat up in the trough, but she neither struggled nor cursed. While never having received any formal schooling, Tilda-Mae knew she had best yell "calf-rope" and give in, or be ducked under again.

Seeing the girl had quit struggling, Mark stepped back and allowed her to drag her soaking little body from the trough. She glared across to where Johnny stood trying to decide what to do, how to explain things to Jaya, how to stop Jaya leaving him.

"Bring that dirty furrin gal here, will you?" Tilda-Mae screamed. "Just you wait 'til my kin hears what you done, Johnny Wade. They'll fix your wagon, but good, see if they don't. Then I'll get that furrin gal and beat her so ugly she'll never steal another American gal's man."