Chase The Wind

by Janelle Taylor

  As Navarro rounded her during one sequence, he murmured, “Relax, Beth, you’re as tight as a new bowstring. You’re supposed to be in love and lighthearted, remember? Folks will wonder what’s wrong.”

  The following step called for them to stretch out clasped hands and touch first their right shoulders, then their left as their bodies shifted. When the space between them vanished, she whispered, “How do lovers act, partner?”

  He glanced into her upturned face and replied, “You should know; you’re the one who’s been married before, not me.”

  Beth did the stroll-around sequence, journeying her fingers across his broad back because he was too tall for her clasped hands to travel over his head without straining. As she passed his left arm and retook his hand, she was close enough to ask, “Does that also mean you’ve never been in love?” She felt his grasp tighten for a moment and saw his body stiffen. His piercing gaze told her she’d asked the wrong question. She laughed and quipped, “Relax, I’m just making small talk, not being nosy.”

  “That is being nosy, at the wrong time and place.”

  “Yes, sir, no more jests. I only wanted to be prepared with an answer when Mrs. Carter asks me that question, because she surely will.”

  As he twirled her into his embrace with her back to him to hesitate there a moment as next to the last step, he asked, “Why?”

  “To see if I have a rival for your affections.”

  “Tell her you don’t,” he said as contact with her was broken.

  The music ended and they bowed to each other. As she straightened, she responded, “Fine, just so our answers match if she asks you, too.”

  The second dance began and more couples came on the floor.

  “Let’s get something to eat,” he said when the music stopped, both having remained silent except for responding to greetings or remarks from others.

  Beth accompanied him to tables laden with food and drinks: frijoles, enchiladas, tamales, tortillas, chili con carne, and other cocido. selections, beer, wine, tequila, coffee, and water. Mexican servants kept the treats and liquids coming and provided any service needed.

  While making their choices, they chatted with their hosts and other guests, then sat down to their meals. Though Navarro appeared to be in a relaxed and merry mood, she sensed a change in him, a coolness brought on by her remarks. Without a doubt, Beth concluded, the man had many troubling secrets. It was a stupid—but innocent—mistake to antagonize him, especially since he was eager to drop her as a partner. She found it difficult to force anything down because of the sudden ball of dread in her throat and chest warning that he would find a clever way to convince Dan to agree. She wanted and needed this important assignment. In her distress, it was a struggle to smile, chat, and act happy. The good-natured Carters helped lessen Beth’s strain and that between her and Navarro with their arrival. The four talked a while before the older woman began to matchmake again.

  “So, you’re having a wagonload of fun?” Kate winked at Beth who smiled and nodded. “And you, Navarro? Kicked up those heels yet?”

  He answered, “Yes, ma’am. Food’s excellent, too. This fruit from Sonora is a treat. Harrison is lucky it got past all the bandidos and renegades.”

  “Sometimes our shipments get stolen by those wicked brutes.”

  He continued to use the diversionary topic while his partner finished settling down and got into her role once more, as she’d been a mite distant since their earlier conversation. “I thought your store sold dry goods.”

  “It’s called that, but we sell most anything that brings in money. I hope you’ll do your trail shopping with us before you leave.”

  “I will, ma’am, on Monday morning, early.”

  “So, no changes in your plans to leave?”

  Navarro shook his head.

  “That’s too bad. I’m sure Beth wishes you could visit longer. Don’t you, dear? I bet if you work on him good, he might hang around another week or so.”

  “He…I—”

  “Come on, Kate, and leave these young folks be,” Henry rebuked, and tugged on his wife’s arm to take her away from them.

  “At last,” Navarro murmured, “our best supporter is here. Let’s stay close to her so others will overhear her matchmaking.”

  Beth let him be the leader he claimed he was and tried not to displease him again. She wasn’t accustomed to subservience and found it quite uncomfortable. Tomorrow, they were taking a carriage ride. For the first time, they would have privacy to be themselves and get things straight. Maybe then, she could persuade him to keep her on the team. One more day in Tucson, whether I go with him or not. Tonight, forget your worries; what will be will be. Enjoy your friends and have fun at this last party because there’s no telling what surprises he has in store for you tomorrow.

  After Navarro picked up Beth in a rented buggy, he guided it away from town in a southwest direction toward Gates Pass. They journeyed in silence except for the mingled sounds of horse, harness, and wagon.

  She let her gaze roam the grandeur of the vast and wild panorama. Soon, a bend in the dirt road and desert landscape would have concealed their presence if not for a continuous dust cloud being kicked up by the horse’s hooves and buggy’s wheels. The sky was an expanse of clear blue as far as she could see. The air was warm and a breeze wafted over them, the kind that made arid heat deceptive and perilous in the summer. They were surrounded on both sides by a near forest of huge saguaros with floral tips and countless bird holes in their spiny surfaces and cozy nests on branches. The giant cactus stood as guards for the rugged territory with armlike extensions held upward as if ready to fend off any threat by man, beast, or climate. Some saguaros had up to fifty “arms” and weighed several tons. Some were twisted or entangled into numerous picturesque shapes, their contortions a thing of breathtaking and unique beauty.

  Intermingled were a profusion of gray-green creosote and verdant mesquites, prickly pear with their beavertailish leaves, yuccas and sotol with creamy blooms and daggerlike spikes, and fat specimens of barrel cactus. She noticed ocotillo with clusters of scarlet flowers on barren and spiny branches, leafless from a lack of recent rain, as foliage grew for only a short time after rainfall. Cholla—tall, short, and in between—with its multiple furry arms thrived in this region. Senna, phlox, paintbrush, verbena, poppy, and other flowers flourished and emblazoned the area with splashes of white, yellow, gold, pink, purple, orange, and red. The countryside was neither desolate nor infertile, but it could be intimidating and hostile, and lethal to a tenderfoot. She was glad she was here at springtime when the setting was so glorious.

  The ground was a combination of light-colored sand and mostly brown rocks of various sizes. As the topography changed, undulating land rose up in places to form benches that were studded with cactus towering over other greenery and flora. As desert drifted into mountains, rocks became larger; boulders, foothills, cliffs, and peaks greeted her line of vision. Along flash flood washes and ravines, desert willow, tamarisk, thorny acacia, palo verde, and iron wood grew. Most were an array of loveliness with white, yellow, gold, and purple blossoms that attracted thousands of bees and other insects. Wrens, doves, and other birds feasted on the tiny flying banquet, while several kestrels preyed on those diners who weren’t swift enough to escape their claws.

  Beth decided the lovely day and tranquil location was the perfect time for eating outside and having a serious conversation. Yet, Navarro was again his silent and reserved self with no one around to dupe. Don’t let him get accustomed to being stone quiet with you. Draw him out; make him talk, if only to answer questions. Get him in the habit of speaking, so he’ll feel free to do it more often. “Have you heard the tale about the stolen gold hidden in Colossal Cave southeast of town?”

  I was wondering how long you’d hold your tongue, ‘cause silence makesyou edgy. “Just a little wild talk in saloons. What’d you hear?” he asked to keep her chatting so he wouldn’t have to do so yet.

&nb
sp; “Locals say several men robbed a train, fled with the law after them, and hid in the cave. The posse tried for weeks to smoke or starve them out, but nothing worked. The bandits found another hole and escaped. Most of them were located and slain in another town, and the only survivor was captured and sent to prison. He won’t tell where the gold is hidden. Locals say it’s still in there somewhere. Plenty have searched for it; some have been killed or injured in accidents or just never came out again.”

  “If you found it, would you keep the gold or return it to the railroad?”

  She shifted on the seat to stare at him, but he didn’t glance her way. “That’s an odd question. Return it, of course. I’m an honest, law-abiding person.”

  “You’d be rich. You could retire from this hard and dangerous job and live in safety and comfort. Who would know you’d found it?”

  “I would. Keeping the gold, when I knew to whom it belonged, would be the same as stealing it in the first place. How can a person live with himself or herself if one intentionally breaks the law?”

  “I guess it depends on how and why the law was broken. Sometimes the law is worse than a criminal’s actions.”

  Beth wondered if he was being a little too defensive. Had he committed crimes along the way to catching criminals? Did he believe the end result justified using whatever means necessary to achieve it? Did a lawman have a right to use evil to defeat evil? Steven never had, though there had been times when doing so would have aided a difficult mission. Beth needed the truth from him to avoid any complications, so she asked him those questions. He jerked his head in her direction and gaped at her as if she were loco.

  “So far, the answers to your doubts are no, no, and no.”

  Blastyou, woman, you did it again! Repair the damage fast. “I’m sorry if I insulted or offended you, Navarro, but you sounded kind of odd. I have to learn what to expect from you. In the days ahead, errors of judgment on my part can have grim consequences. To pull together best, we need to think and react alike. At least, that’s how Steven and I worked as a team. If it’s going to be different with you, tell me so I won’t make any hazardous mistakes.”

  You might get to know me better than you can imagine and find me totally offensive. “We’ll have plenty of time on the trail to get acquainted. Before we reach the Cordell ranch, you’ll have your answers.”

  There’s that odd look and tone again. What are you hiding, Navarro? “I hope so, because this case is too important to be caught off guard. Do me a good turn by teaching me all you can during our partnership.”

  He watched a bird of prey capture its target. “Like what?”

  “Anything and everything Steven didn’t have time to teach me. Since I work alone now, I don’t have anyone to do that for me. I want to be the best agent possible, while staying alive and bringing criminals to justice. I can shoot and ride like a champion.” He glanced at her and grinned. She didn’t change her words because they were true. “I can hold my own against most people. But I need to improve my self-defense skills, my tracking, my gathering and reasoning out of clues. According to Dan, you’re matchless in those areas. Will you let me be your student for a while? If you say yes, I’ll obey without hesitation and I’ll work hard.”

  “You want to be able to protect yourself with more than a gun, is that what you mean?”

  “Yes, but I’m competent with knives, too. It’s hand-to-hand battles with a man that give any woman problems. Guns and knives can get knocked from my hand, so I need to hone other skills if I’m disarmed. As for tracking and gathering clues, the obvious ones are easy to find or read; it’s the subtle or concealed ones I want to be able to sight and glean. Lastly, you’ve pointed out the reality that I’m a woman, so I think, feel, and react as a female. I’ve observed men for a long time, all kinds, but I still haven’t gotten adept at predicting what they all will do.”

  “If you understand most of them, don’t worry about the few you don’t.”

  “But it’s those few who are usually the crux of my cases.”

  “You want to understand the motives and emotions of criminals?”

  “Yes,” she said as they reached the spot he had chosen.

  Navarro reined in and climbed down. As he was grasping her by the waist to help her to the ground, he responded, “Bad men have as many motives as the desert has sand. Except for a certain weakness and flaw or two, they’re not much different than good people. It can be anything that heads one down a wrong trail, something big or little, fate, timing, an impulse, a soured dream. You name it and it’s driven some man to crime.”

  She stood before him and gazed into his hazel eyes. “Will it annoy you if I ask questions and make requests during our trip?”

  “I don’t know, to be honest. Never had that experience before.”

  “Can we try it? If it’s irritating, you can tell me to slow down or stop. I just don’t want you to think I’m doubting your orders when I question them. That’s the only way I can learn how you reason out things.”

  Navarro was touched and flattered that she believed he was so skilled that she could learn from him, and was eager to do so. It was a stirring sensation that she was honored to work with him. The respect and acceptance of others were things long in coming to him, as were love and real friendships. Could it be so troublesome, he mused, to put up with her for a while? He stared into those large and pleading eyes. He’d see…

  Beth was baffled by the way he pondered a simple request for so long, then grinned and nodded. Maybe he relented because she had gotten to his pride and ego—by which so many western men lived and died—but not by her being guileful. She was serious about him educating her along the way. Too, Steven had told her there were four things a woman shouldn’t trample in a man: ego, pride, his name, and his heart. Nothing, her lost love had warned, made a man more dangerous and unpredictable than having those wounded. She had never forgotten those words of caution.

  “To finish answering what you asked me earlier, I did my share of wild things—even gunslinging—before I joined the Agency. Since then, I’ve had to do some stretching of a few crazy laws when I threw in with bad sorts to trap ‘em. But commit crimes to trick or catch criminals? No, I don’t mount my horse on the wrong side. If I did, I’d be as bad as the men I go after. I’ll expect you to do the same while we’re partnered up.”

  “Your answer and sense of honor couldn’t please me more; thanks.”

  Navarro nodded and spread a quilt on the stony ground near a tall saguaro that offered no shade with the sun almost overhead. Beth unpacked the food basket so they could eat as they talked. They put fried chicken and biscuits on their plates, with fruit waiting for a later treat. Beth handed him a tin cup of tea which he secured in the sand until he was ready for it. She did the same with hers, then curled her legs half under her. She set the filled plate on her lap atop a napkin to protect her dress from greasy spots; another one lay beside her and she tossed it to Navarro who caught it in midair and dropped it by his leg.

  “Thanks. Looks and smells good. You cook this?”

  “No, Grandy’s did, by special request and an extra quarter. Time was too short and tight for me to do it. But don’t worry, partner, I can cook in and out of doors, and I do it well.”

  He chuckled. “So can I, so don’t think you’ll have to wait on me.”

  Beth glanced at his arms, exposed by his rolled sleeves; they were tanned and muscular. From what she could see of his chest through the unbuttoned section, it was hairless and smooth. She didn’t want him getting hurt, but couldn’t wait to see him in action, physical action, as he was agile in mind and body. She focused on her meal to distract herself from him.

  Navarro looked at her biting into her chicken while her gaze was lowered. Black hair peeked from under a pretty sunbonnet, its dark shade odd with her coloring. As fair as she was, she could make use of the same flour paste with which Mexican women protected their skin from the sun’s power and damage. As he studied her, she
ate and moved—to him—in a dainty fashion. Her yellow dress was simple, but its brightness called attention to her.

  Use this time and location wisely, woman. “Dan told me you’re old friends of the Cordells. I’m sure it will be difficult to seemingly betray their trust. He said you’d fill me in. How did you meet them? When?”

  “In March of’76.” He put aside his plate and wiped his fingers and mouth. “My mother died when I was young. I was left on my own, so I became a drifter. I’ve been all over these parts. Done about every job there is. I ran into a Lane in San Angelo who was hunting for a certain kind of man for a dangerous job, and I was picked. A villain named Fletcher was trying to grab Jed Lane’s property near Fort Davis in southwest Texas and the snake was willing to break any and every law to get it. The ranch was called the Box L back then, a big spread with lots of stock. No matter if anybody believed Jed’s charges against a rich and powerful man like Fletcher, it didn’t make any difference because the law couldn’t pin any of the doings on him. Jed hired me to teach his boys how to fight Fletcher and his hirelings. He also needed me to protect his family: two daughters, a half-crippled son, and his mother.”

  Navarro drank some tea to wet his throat; he was surprised she didn’t jump in with questions or comments. “I couldn’t have done my job better. But I had a run-in with his youngest girl; she was twenty at the time.” Better mention that incident because others at the ranch will be sure to do so. “She took a fancy to me and I turned my back, which didn’t sit with her. She accused me of trying to attack her; she tore her dress and scratched herself up to make me look guilty. I was fired and sent riding.”