Jubal was walking them down the street to the restaurant, and Maggie was holding Annie on her hip, absolutely fascinated by the busy, dirty little border town. She was gazing with interest at the magnificently tooled leather goods in a saddler’s shop, when Annie startled her with, “Fo Toes! Mama, it Fo Toes!”
The little girl was leaning out of her mother’s arms and reaching for the tall Indian by the time he joined them. He grinned broadly at Annie’s enthusiastic greeting.
Jubal watched Four Toes and Annie, noticed Maggie’s pleasure at their friendship, and felt an irrational surge of jealousy. Damn, I’ve got it bad, he thought grouchily.
The little Mexican place where they ate breakfast was nothing at all like the grand hotel restaurant where Jubal had wined and dined Maggie the evening before, but Maggie didn’t mind. She was still basking in the rosy glow of freshly discovered love, and would have been enraptured with anything. Not only that, but their chubby waitress was delighted with Annie and made a big fuss over her. Anybody who praised her baby was all right in Maggie’s book.
# # #
The trip to Jubal’s ranch was accomplished with very little chatting on either Jubal’s or Maggie’s part.
And it was not merely her determination to keep from burdening Jubal with her love that kept Maggie silent, either. What had begun as honest puzzlement about his intentions grew as the day progressed until she was certain that he must consider her no better than a floozy. She didn’t have any idea what she’d do if he ever wanted to bed her again. He’d certainly expect her to capitulate, and she knew she shouldn’t, no matter how much she wanted to. Oh, Lord, she’d really done it this time.
After all, she told herself, if I were a proper lady, I never would have done that. Time after time that day, when shivers of remembered ecstasy gave her goose bumps, Maggie was almost glad she wasn’t a proper lady. Then she’d sneak a peek at Jubal and wish he could love her as she loved him, and her heart would squeeze in dismay.
Her aunt was absolutely right about her, she told herself over and over.
In order to keep herself from going crazy with her conflicting emotions, she decided to spend most of her attention on her daughter today.
As for Jubal, he’d never been in love before and didn’t know what to do about it. He half hoped he’d get over it soon, sort of like a bad cold or a bullet in the arm. He had nothing at all against Maggie. If he had, he wouldn’t be in love with her. But he wasn’t used to caring so hellishly much about another human being, and he found the sensation terribly unnerving. It played absolute havoc with the settled order of things.
Still, he wished Maggie would talk to him. She didn’t jabber and prattle or sulk and whine like the other women he’d known in his life, but he always found her unstudied, ingenuous observations refreshing. But she didn’t seem inclined to want to talk at all today, and he wondered if she were embarrassed about last night.
He got hard immediately and decided he’d better not think about last night at all. Anyway, even if she didn’t talk to him, he enjoyed listening to her dealing with Annie.
The weather was hot, although it was nowhere near as hot as it had been when they’d been forced to travel at night. Still, the sun was bright, and Maggie found it difficult to keep Annie occupied and cool. Her own face was soon flushed and dripping with the heat.
She wished Jubal would talk to her, but he didn’t seem to want to talk. Her heart clutched in pain, and she sternly told herself not to fuss. The man had a job to do. And he was actually helping her keep her resolve by remaining aloof. Her heart didn’t quite buy her mind’s reasoning, though. It ached for his attention.
Maybe he wants me for his mistress. That sudden, awful thought nearly brought tears to her eyes until she realized, with a dismal frown, that it’s just what a woman in her situation should anticipate.
What did you expect? she asked herself bitterly, already having condemned Jubal for her own base supposition. Well, for the Lord’s sake, don’t cry, Maggie Bright, she commanded herself. And herself obeyed.
By the time they stopped for a rest and to eat lunch in the early afternoon, Maggie was resigned to her fate. Somehow, she would refuse Jubal’s further advances, if he made any, and try her best to repair her fallen dignity.
When Four Toes lifted little Annie out of the wagon for her, she was feeling stronger, and was able to smile at him with real friendship. They had found a small stream that hadn’t yet dried up, which was surrounded by a stand of stunted trees that offered them a little bit of shade.
“Thank you, Mr. Smith,” Maggie sighed, glad for the respite some time out of the wagon would afford them.
“Sure thing, Mrs. Bright. I got Annie something in town while we were there. I thought it might be a good idea to save it for this afternoon, since it’s a long trip and everybody’s itchy to get home.”
Maggie beamed at him, completely forgetting her status as wicked woman, when he held up a little gourd doll. The gourd was pear-shaped and brown, and it had been clothed in calico. Its face was painted comically, and yarn hair adorned its head. But the most exciting thing about the doll was that when you shook it, it rattled. Annie was enchanted.
“Mr. Smith, you’re a pure wonder,” Maggie sighed at him. “You should have children of your own.”
Four Toes looked at Maggie with a rather rueful smile. “I’d love to, Mrs. Bright, if I knew they could grow up free like Annie here.”
Then Maggie wished she hadn’t said anything. Her heart hurt when she considered Four Toes’ plight.
“He adopts every kid he sees, Mrs. Bright. He’s got kids all over the Territory,” Dan told her with a laugh.
As he took care of the wagon mules, Jubal watched and listened with a brow pleated in interest. He fed each animal a handful of meal and then gave them some water in a bucket, and frowned the whole time. He’d never considered this particular aspect of his friend’s life before.
“Hell, Four Toes,” he said at last, “why don’t you just move in with Danny and me. My spreads big enough for three families easy.”
Maggie smiled at him with such tenderness that Jubal blinked in astonishment.
Four Toes looked interested.
Dan quirked an ironic brow at Jubal. “Three families, Jubal?”
Jubal scowled at Dan. “Why not?” He sounded kind of grumpy. “It’s big enough for three families, isn’t it?”
Dan smiled and hauled down another sack of meal from the wagon. “Just wondering where all these families are going to come from is all, Jubal,” he said innocently.
Jubal gave him a hard frown and didn’t answer. Nor did he look at Maggie. Jubal Green might have, grudgingly, admitted to himself that he loved Maggie Bright, but he was nowhere near enough ready to admit it to anybody else in the world. Dan laughed when, without another word, Jubal stomped over to take care of his personal business among the scraggly trees.
They ate lunch quickly and continued their journey without resting long. Luckily, Annie settled down happily with her new toy and was content to rattle it, play “Mommy,” and laugh until she finally wore herself out. She’d been sleeping for an hour or more when Maggie figured it must be getting on towards four in the afternoon and she decided she’d risk asking Jubal a question.
She’d had a long time to consider the way the two of them had spent the night. Ever a realist, Maggie didn’t suppose brooding would pay any dividends. So she determined that the best course for her to follow would be to act as though nothing at all had changed, even if her world was now poised on its tiptoes and teetering perilously. No matter what, she didn’t want to be a pest.
“Mr. Green?”
His head whipped around and he glared at her. “Call me Jubal,” he commanded harshly. It really annoyed him that she was back to calling him “Mr. Green.”
Hell, didn’t last night meant anything at all to her?
Maggie was dismayed. She hadn’t meant to irritate him. “I’m sorry, Jubal,” she began, and w
as even more dismayed when he became instantly exasperated with her.
“Will you quit apologizing to me?”
Maggie’s mouth dropped open and she nearly apologized for annoying him by apologizing. She thought better of it almost immediately. A prickle of irritation smote her and she had to take a deep breath before trying once more. Her aunt’s constant admonition about not making people angry sang off-key in her mind, and she phrased her words carefully.
“Um, well, I just wondered when we’d be getting close to your land, Jubal.” The question was asked with some trepidation. Recalling her resolve not to cling and her worry about his intentions, Maggie tried to phrase it so that it wouldn’t smack of impatience. Lord, it was tricky business, trying to stay off of this prickly man’s toes.
But Jubal wasn’t angry. He was surprised. “Hell, Maggie, we’ve been on my land for three hours now.”
Maggie was absolutely astounded. Her mouth dropped open and she looked at the landscape surrounding them as though she expected to see a sign or something.
“Oh—well—but—”Maggie finally just gave up trying to express herself and laughed.
Maggie’s laugh was so sweet and enchanting that it made Jubal’s insides ache with hunger for her. He watched in appreciation as her eyebrows lifted into two incredulous arches above her pretty blue eyes. His uncivilized masculinity reacted by instantly thickening up.
“I thought you knew that,” he said inanely.
Maggie was still laughing. “How on earth could I know that Mr.—I mean, Jubal? I’ve never been here before.”
“I guess not.” Jubal wasn’t sure why she thought this was so funny.
“I didn’t know a human being could own so much land,” Maggie admitted with an awed shake of her head. “I guess I’m kind of naive, Jubal, but still, three hours’ worth of Texas is a whole lot of land to belong to one person.” Maggie was mighty impressed.
That innocent, wondering comment finally made Jubal unsettled mood smooth over. “I guess it is,” he said with a grin. “But if you ride in the other direction, you can go for days and still be on Green land.
“Oh my.” That was impressive, indeed.
At the moment, Jubal was driving the wagon along the base of some stony foothills that angled out from the Rocky Mountain which had spawned El Paso in one of its low passes. He pointed at the top of a rise.
Maggie’s gaze followed the line indicated by his finger, but she couldn’t really see much except the brown, rocky hill, even when she squinted hard.
“I don’t know if you can make him out, but one of my men is posted guard at the top of that hill over there.”
He waved at the guard and Maggie could just make out the glint of light that was made when the late afternoon sun struck the guard’s rifle barrel as he waved back.
“Oh, I see something now.”
Jubal was squinting at the top of the hill. “Yeah. I think that’s Ramon. I have men posted everywhere. Mulrooney’s people can’t get at us here, Maggie. See him up there?”
Now Maggie was really impressed. He even had guards on his land. “No, I can’t see him,” she admitted. Then, with a thrill in her voice, she added, “But as soon as my eyeglasses are ready, I’ll be able to see him and everything else, too.”
She actually gave herself a little hug of pleasure. Jubal wanted to hug her, too, but he had to drive the wagon. His grin got bigger, though.
“Yep. You’ll be able to see everything. I just hope you like what you see.”
A sudden, unpleasant thought struck Maggie like a blow and she eyed Jubal uneasily. She swallowed hard. “It’ll be real nice to be able to see clear,” she said. Her voice was a little shallow.
“I guess it will be,” Jubal agreed. He didn’t notice that her mood had changed.
“I, um, don’t believe I’ve seen too many ladies wearing spectacles.”
Jubal had never particularly thought about it before. He considered Maggie’s words now, though.
“I don’t guess I have, either, come to think on it,” he said, interested that Maggie had noticed the absence of spectacles among the general female population. He appreciated observant people and chalked up one more point for Maggie Bright.
“I—I don’t guess spectacles will improve my looks any.”
Maggie ventured that observation with a tiny little laugh that trickled out uneasily. She was still watching Jubal out of the corner of her eye, keenly studying his face for any sign that might ease her worry or confirm it.
Jubal turned his head to look at her. “Do you worry much about your looks, Maggie?”
Now she felt embarrassed and wished she hadn’t gone on this stupid fishing expedition. You are what you are, Maggie Bright, she told herself firmly. You can’t help it that your eyes aren’t good and you need spectacles.
Yeah, and you can’t help it that you want to look pretty for Jubal Green, either, her self answered back.
She had to clear her throat before she answered him. “I—I don’t guess I worry, exactly. But, well, I want to look nice, yes,” she said shyly. She couldn’t look at him now. She knew she was blushing.
“I think you’re pretty, Maggie,” said Jubal. “I think you’ll be pretty with eyeglasses, too.”
He looped the reins into one hand and reached out a leather-gloved hand to nudge her under the chin so she’d look at him. He was surprised to see tears glittering in her eyes when she finally succumbed to the pressure of his touch and turned her face toward his.
“I think you’re about the prettiest lady I’ve ever met, Maggie.” He didn’t know if it was the truth or not, but he did know that she was the only one he’d ever loved.
“Oh, I’m not,” she whispered, stunned. Nobody but Kenny had ever said such soft, sweet words to her, and she’d never believed them then. She didn’t believe them now, either, but discovered that she really, really wanted to.
“Don’t argue with me, Maggie Bright,” Jubal said with assumed fierceness. He squeezed her chin. Then he leaned over and kissed her on the lips.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
She couldn’t look at him any longer because his eyes were making her go all over melty like she’d been last night. She stared into her lap and blushed furiously.
Jubal was rather pleased at her reaction to his words and touch. Maybe he could get used to this love stuff. He clicked gently at the mules and turned his attention back to his driving.
They arrived within seeing distance of his ranch house a half-hour or so later. His father had built the place near a branch of the Rio Grande that ran beside a little nest of hills. It was, therefore, much more green in Green’s Valley than in most of the surrounding desert lands.
Jubal pointed the ranch out to Maggie long before she could see it. He could tell they were almost there because his own eagle eyes had picked out the spreading sward of green and the dark pinpoints that indicated treetops. Cottonwoods and willows lined the stream, and it wasn’t long, too, before Jubal began to see the distinctive white gleam of the roofs of the out buildings and the ranch house itself.
He discovered to his surprise that he was getting nervous. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized how much he wanted Maggie to like it here. He didn’t want her to pine for that stupid, dumpy farm of hers; he wanted her to think of her home as where he was.
Maggie was straining to see Jubal’s place in the distance. When she thought she could finally discern a darker patch against the vast sandy brownness that spread in front of them, she nearly jumped off the wagon seat.
“Oh, Jubal, I think I see it.” Her whisper was a burst of happy excitement.
He smiled at her, glad for her enthusiasm. “I hope you like it, Maggie.”
“Oh, I’m sure we will.”
Jubal didn’t miss that “we.”
“When we get close, I want Annie to see it, too,” Maggie told him.
“Well, let her sleep for now. Distances are deceiving out here. It will be an hour or so before
we’re there.”
“An hour?” Maggie was disappointed.
“Afraid so.”
She sighed heavily. Her disappointment was relieved somewhat when Dan and Four Toes rode up to the wagon.
“Gettin’ close,” Dan called.
Jubal waved at him.
“Want us to ride on ahead to warn Cod Fish and have Beula get a room set up for Mrs. Bright, Jubal?”
Jubal didn’t answer right away. He hadn’t actually considered sleeping arrangements yet. All sorts of scenarios, some of them quite appealing, flitted through his nimble brain before he finally said, “Yeah. That’s probably a good idea.”
Jubal had never been hasty in his life. And, while he admitted that he loved Maggie Bright, sort of like he’d admit to having a bum knee or a broken arm, he decided it would be better to go slow. After all, if luck were on his side, he’d get over it before it settled in and became a permanent condition.
The two Indians rode off in twin puffs of dust and Maggie watched them with interest.
“Who are Cod Fish and Beula?”
“Cod Fish is my foreman and Beula is his wife. She sort of keeps house for me.”
“Is his name really Cod Fish?”
Jubal chuckled. “Nah. It’s Henry. He’s from Maine. I guess some of the hands began calling him Cod Fish decades ago and it just stuck. He still talks funny, like an Easterner. Calls himself a Mainiac.”
Maggie giggled. “Oh. That’s funny.”
She wasn’t too sure of her ground here, but she did know that she wanted to be as useful as possible while she and Annie were living at Jubal’s. She also much preferred to offer her own suggestion as to how she could earn her keep rather than wait for any unsavory propositions Jubal might make. In fact, she was pretty sure any such proposition would go far toward breaking her heart. In a tentative voice, she said, “I’d be happy to help keep house, Mr. Green—I mean, Jubal.”
She was peering at him nervously. She never quite knew how he was going to take things. Sure enough, his forehead began to wrinkle up and his eyebrows dipped over the bridge of his nose. Maggie sighed in exasperation.
One Bright Morning Page 25