Chase The Wind

by Janelle Taylor

  “You said to do it every chance we get, right?”

  “Right. But don’t get too close to me.”

  “I thought you said to snuggle up to rehearse our roles.”

  “I meant emotionally.” He realized she stiffened for a moment. He asked himself why he had said such a foolish thing.

  “If that interprets to—don’t fall in love with you, don’t worry; I’m only following orders and playing my part, nothing more.”

  In an attempt to pass off his mistake as teasing, he asked in a playful tone, “Aren’t you gonna give me the same warning? Remind me this is only a job to us?”

  “Nope, because it’s as unnecessary for you as it was for me. Let’s get back to work before I grab a bath to look my best when we reach town tomorrow. You said I’ll be meeting a close friend of yours, and I have shopping to do. I thought I’d buy the Cordell children some gifts; youngsters love getting presents. About how old are they? Are they boys or girls?”

  “Alice will be seven next month. Lance is four and a half. Lane is nine.”

  Beth was astonished by the way he spouted off the children’s names and ages without having to stop and think. She felt him tense and heard a change in his voice. Do you feel guilty over deludingyour friends or is something else about a visit there troubling you? “Is Lane a boy or a girl?”

  “Boy, why?”

  “I’ve met a L-A-N-E male and a L-A-I-N-E female, so I didn’t know. I assume the firstborn son was named after Jessica’s family. Right?”

  “Yep, Lane Cordell.”

  If the boy was nine, that meant Jessica had wed and gotten pregnant shortly after Navarro’s stay at the ranch. Had Jessica unintentionally misled Navarro and broken his heart, if she was the one who—Heavens, Bethany Wind, your imagination is running wild tonight! As if she’d been thinking along another line, she said, “I learned from Caroline and Robert’s children that if you don’t bring the same sex the same toy, it can cause jealousy and quarrels. We don’t want anything to provoke problems there.”

  “That’s smart and thoughtful.”

  “Last thing—”

  “What?” he asked before she could finish, wanting to get away from that subject.

  Getting touchy? Why? Because she married someone else and had his children? “I’ve been trying to think of a special name to call you during our pretense. So you won’t worry when I do, I’ll be calling you things like heart, husband, and dearest. All right?”

  “Fine with me. I’ll do the same,” But not -Tsíné—Apache for “sweetheart/love”—as he’d called Jessie.

  “Sounds nice and convincing. I’m going off duty now, boss, to get scrubbed and changed for sleep.” She broke their holds and contact, gathered her things, and disappeared into some bushes at the river’s edge.

  You fool, why did you go and say something stupid like that to her? Still trying to make sure she won’t get within a desert span of you? If you keep acting loco, you’re gonna provoke suspicion and cause a breach between you two. Maybe that’s what you want and need, but the mission doesn’t.

  Saturday before midday, they rode into El Paso. As soon as they checked into a hotel, Navarro said he was going to buy supplies for their remaining journey, send a coded telegram to Dan and one to the Cordells, and make contact with Zachariah Abernathy. Beth nodded and left to mail her letters to Denver and to shop for the Cordells’ gifts.

  Outside the hotel, Navarro saw his friend and fellow agent down the street. He walked in that direction as if he had nothing special in mind. He halted near the spot where Zack was whittling, but others were watching his deft hands perform, so a private talk was impossible.

  “That’s a fine talent you have,” he said to catch the man’s attention.

  Zack recognized the voice, looked up, and said, “Thank ya, suh.”

  “If I didn’t have to go purchase supplies, I’d hang around and watch. Looks mighty interesting. Maybe after I deliver my goods to the hotel in ten minutes or so, I’ll return to buy something from you.”

  “That be real kind of ya, mister, but I’ll be done and gawn dereckly. I’ll be here gain tamorry if’n ya kin comes back.”

  “I’ll try, if I’m still in town. Sure would like to have one for a friend.”

  “And I shore would lack to sell ya one. Make ya a good price.”

  “We’ll see,” Navarro told him and left to carry out his first chore.

  Upon returning to the hotel, Zack was in the upstairs hallway waiting for him. They smiled and shook hands.

  “Right on time, old friend. Anybody around?”

  “Nope, already checked. This side’s empty except for you two.”

  Navarro grinned as he noticed Zack had dropped the style of talking he used to dupe people about his identity and intelligence. “We’ll stand here so we can keep an eye and ear on anybody coming, but we’d better do this quick before we’re interrupted.”

  Zack nodded. “You ain’t gonna like what I learned, Navarro. Way I got it figured, your friends are in deep trouble and need money bad. Disease killed more ‘an half their stock, rustlers stole some, and a dry spell last year almost claimed their whole crop for winter feed. Most of the animals left ain’t old enough for fall sale. Hay price was high and the bank’s wanting its money soon.”

  All that trouble had struck Jessie and Matt…“How did you learn so much so fast?”

  “I rode in as a cowpuncher down on my luck and bone tired. I worked two weeks for food and shelter. They couldn’t pay me nothing, but I said I only needed a rest, vittles, and a roof for a while, then I’d move on to find a job on another ranch. No hiring of extra hands this spring, only them reg’lars there. They don’t have money to replace stock and buy crop seed. With no stock or hay to sell, don’t see how they’re gonna repay the bank or borrow more money to see them through. Heard Cordell tell his wife not to worry, a ‘solution’ was on the way. They seemed like good folks to me—nice, kind, big hearts; their boys love ‘em and respect ‘em.”

  “Any word on Charles Cordell?”

  “None there, but the Agency said he’s en route from the Texas border. He’s picking up loaded wagons and other men in Amarillo. Should arrive at the ranch about the twenty-fourth. At your pace, you two should arrive a few days afore him. I’ll be riding with you far as Fort Hancock, then head overland to Nogales. Agency thinks that’s where he’ll leave Mexico or camp for his meeting with those renegades. I’ll hang around there and pass messages. I’ll be near Develer’s Store ever’ day from three to six, whittling and waiting for you to come or contact me.”

  “We’d best part before anyone sees us together too long. We can talk more on the trail. Didn’t know you’d be riding a ways with us.” They walked toward Navarro’s room; he set down supplies to unlock his door.

  As he did so, Zack asked, “I know it’ll be hard for you to return after what happened there years ago. I wouldn’t want to walk in your boots.”

  “Don’t worry, old friend, there won’t be any problems or trouble.”

  “I hope not, for you anyway. Them kind of boots are hurting tight. She’s one fine and pretty lady. I can see what a big loss she was.”

  “Yep, but that’s over. She’s married and happy.”

  “I best get going,” Zack said with a wave. “See you two outside town in the morning.”

  Navarro turned the knob and pushed open the door.

  “Wait, I’m dressing!” Beth shrieked.

  It was too late to keep the door from swinging ajar. He saw her grab a garment and hold it before her chemiseand petticoat-clad body. “Sorry, love. I didn’t know you were back. That was fast work.”

  Beth glanced past him to the stranger standing in the hallway, a nice-looking black man with short curly hair. “We have company?”

  “You two can meet and talk tomorrow. See you later, Zack.”

  The other man nodded at a rosy-cheeked Beth and departed. Navarro closed the door, bolted it, and put his purchases in a pile.r />
  “That was your contact and close friend?”

  “Yep, Zack Abernathy. Known him for years.”

  “Everything go all right?”

  “Yep, tell you about his report later. This room doesn’t give much privacy and we can’t take any risks.”

  As Beth turned her back and slipped on her dress, she said, “That’s fine.” She wondered if he was trying to decide if or what she’d overheard.

  “I thought you were gone.”

  She kept her back to him as she buttoned her bodice. “It only takes a few minutes to post letters and buy gifts, and both places are close to the hotel. I was freshening up and changing for supper. I thought you’d be gone longer, too.” She lifted a brush and started to work on her hair.

  “I still have something to do. I’ll return soon and we’ll go eat.”

  Navarro went to the telegraph office and sent Dan a message: Forgot to tell me Red Wind news. No problem. Thanks for property loan. Will return it later. He signed it, Z. N. Jones to let Dan know they’d met.

  The message to Jessie and Matt related news of his marriage and asked if they could stop for a visit on the way to San Antonio so they could meet Beth and she could meet them. His motive was to give them warning but not enough time to worry. If they said no or wait until another time, he and Beth would spy on the ranch and wait for Charles to leave, then trail him.

  After he returned to the hotel, Navarro took a bath and shaved in the second-floor water closet to obtain a short reprieve from Beth’s charms. He also wanted solitude to ponder what Zack had told him.

  In their room, Beth was glad she had finished her tasks quickly so she’d been able to overhear the men’s talk. She surmised her partner was worried about the Cordells having a possible motive for getting involved with Charles’s crime, and worried about seeing his old love—lost love—again.

  It seemed a strain for Navarro to play his husband role tonight and it shouldn’t be; after all, it was only an act, a duty, following orders. Perhaps he feared she was attempting to replace that “big loss” in his head and heart. She knew that was impossible, that he still obviously loved the mystery woman; Dan and Zack were aware of that tormenting reality, too. When, she fretted, would he realize the unrequited past was over in more than words?

  Navarro entered the room and glanced at her before putting away his belongings. He noticed her sad expression. “Anything wrong, Beth?”

  She cloaked her emotions and controlled her expression and voice. “Are you sure it was safe to meet with another agent in the open like that?”

  “We were careful and alert. Do you mean because he’s an ex-slave?”

  “No, but that fact might more easily call attention to you and him.”

  “Just the opposite, Zack tends to be invisible to most folks. Who’d suspect a black man of being a Special Agent? When he’s around, it’s like he isn’t there, so people talk freely around him and he learns plenty. He sits and whittles while folks watch and think he’s only earning money with his skill. Searching for the right kind of wood to use gives him an excuse to be in the wilds when he’s tailing somebody. You don’t have anything against black folks, do you?”

  “Heavens, no, but I haven’t known many. Only a few lived in Denver and none were near the places I’ve been assigned to.”

  “You won’t mind traveling with him tomorrow?”

  “No, I’m eager to meet and chat with your friend.”

  “Think he’ll tell you all about me?” Navarro jested.

  “I thought I knew everything about you,” she quipped in return.

  “You know enough.”

  No, I don’t. As she sat cross-legged on the bed and braided her long copper hair, Beth coaxed, “Then tell me all about Zack.”

  “He’s thirty-eight, a few months older than me. He was a slave until seventeen. A lucky one if you can call it that—the property of a good man. He started off as a houseboy and became the best friend of his owner’s son. They knew he was smart; they let him study lessons with the son, even slept in his room as a sort of guard and companion. His master was killed during the war and his friend was murdered afterward in a raid by men dressed like the KKK. Zack knew he’d be strung up next so he moved west. He learned enough in a few years to become a lawman. Like me, he caught Dan’s eye. We met on a case in Yuma and we’ve been close ever since.”

  Beth recalled how the two men were the same size, build, and height of six two. She decided Zack must be a good man to be accepted by Navarro. Too, the men had both suffered hardships and troubled pasts that provided an affinity for a special friendship. She liked discovering this side of her partner, who was turning out to be less of a loner than she’d imagined.

  “What did you buy at the store for the children?”

  “A doll for Alice, stuffed horses for Lance and Lane, and candy for all.”

  “Good thing they’re not wooden horses. Since Zack just left the Cordell ranch and he whittles every spare minute, they might be suspicious if we rode in with two he could have carved. You chose well. I’m sure they’ll like them.”

  “I also bought Jessica a shawl and Matt a knife with a carved handle.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “A gesture of gratitude for all they did for my husband. Remember, dearest heart, allegedly we wouldn’t have met and wed if not for their influence on you and their help years ago, especially getting you released from prison.”

  “I guess that excuse will ride with them.”

  Beth was a little miffed and confused by his attitude and remarks. “If you think I shouldn’t give them presents, I won’t; just give the order, boss. I was only trying to make this an easy and happy event for them.”

  “Easy and happy” for them? Will it be? “It’s all right with me.”

  “If we’ve nothing else to discuss, I’ll turn in.”

  He grasped her dismay. “That’s all. Beth…”

  She stopped pulling down the covers and looked at him. “Yes?”

  “It’s a good idea. You’re a kind and thoughtful person. ’Night.”

  She was surprised and pleased to hear that. “Good night, Navarro.”

  At midday on Sunday, the three agents stopped to rest and eat. After Zack finished, he pulled something from his pocket and began to whittle while he waited for departure. Beth went to sit nearby and observe as she chewed on a biscuit with fried ham from town and sipped coffee. She saw him use a sharp blade to trim slivers from the small lump. It had taken on a shape she recognized, a miniature saguaro cactus. She was enthralled and impressed by his workmanship. His long fingers moved with leisure.

  “What other kinds of things do you make, Zack?”

  He paused to look at her and answer, “Knife handles, hair ornaments, combs, kitchen tools, shoehorns, and toys—mostly animals, cowboys, and Indians. I give away a few; I sell others for extra money.” His dark-brown gaze returned to his objective. “It relaxes me and gives me something to do during the long hours I spend alone or spying on targets.”

  Beth glanced at Navarro as she recalled that he made arrows during his solitude and to occupy his thoughts. As for her, she read or worked on new disguises and identities. Zack’s words ceased her mental roaming.

  “I also use whittling to distract people or fool ‘em. Been times when it helped me get close to somebody I needed to watch or meet.” He sent her a broad grin. “If I get caught by the wrong person at the wrong time, I just say I’m out hunting wood for my work.”

  “Does that excuse dupe them at night, too?”

  “Even then, ‘cause some is at its best when it’s cool and damp. All I have to do is show ‘em what I mean and empty my pouch of carvings and they believe me. Nobody would imagine I’m a gover’ment agent.”

  Beth observed how-his deft fingers held and labored on the item with love and respect, as if it were a living creature. His eyes sparkled and his tone rang with zeal and affection when he talked about his hobby. For such a big and str
ong male, she mused, his touch was light and gentle, as seemed true of his character. “This is fascinating. How do you select the wood type and size for your craft?”

  “I look for the best color, grain, and strength for what I aim to make. Certain things call for hard wood; others, soft; and some, in between. When I grasp a hunk in my fist, even if it looks dead or ugly to most folks, I can feel the life inside it and I can visu’lize its promise of beauty.”

  Navarro studied the woman admiring his friend’s expertise. When he had held her, he perceived dormant life within her which she had buried with Steven, and he could envision its splendid rebirth.

  “How do you decide what to carve next?” Beth asked.

  “If somebody asks for a particular piece, I whittle it. I close my eyes, picture what it’s gonna be, then do it. Or,” he continued after a chuckle, “the chunk tells me inside my head what it wants to become, tells me what it’s gotten hidden under its surface. I just listen and go searching for it.”

  Beth glanced at her partner as she compared Zack’s description to Navarro’s mute calls for change years ago when the Lanes heard them and brought forth his inner beauty and uniqueness with their respect and affection.

  Zack withdrew a piece of exotic ebony and placed the fist-size hunk in Beth’s hand. “Study the color and grain; then close your eyes and let your senses feel its strength and hardness. After you finish, tell me what you think it wants to become.”

  Beth’s gaze glued to the specimen as her slender fingers passed over the exquisite fragment as if caressing and mentally communing with the wood’s soul. “It’s magnificent, Zack. Wherever did you find it?”

  “Friends bring or send me samples from faraway places; that one’s from India. Ebony’s a devil to work with ‘cause it’s so hard. Looks like polished stone after sanding, maybe even a jewel. It’s rarely used here.”