Maggie thought that was a perfectly splendid idea.
The gourd dolly that Four Toes had given Annie was her favorite toy, and she carried it with her everywhere. Maggie had to glue its yarn hair back on twice in the ensuing few weeks, and she made it a change of clothing out of scraps of green calico. Annie was ecstatic.
“Look, Juba,” she cried happily when Jubal came home to supper. “Mama make dolly dress like mine.”
Jubal was mightily impressed with his Maggie. “Your mama’s a wonder, isn’t she, Annie?”
“Mama’s a wonder,” Annie confirmed with a serious nod of her head.
Maggie laughed at them, but she was pleased that her husband seemed to appreciate her.
Jubal himself hadn’t realized how sweet life could be. Until now, he had lived his life under the curse of a family feud that had drained the humanity from his parents and colored every aspect of his growing up and everything he did and was.
He never even dared to imagine that there was such a person as Maggie in the world for him. If anybody had asked him before he met her, he would have said that women were worthless, annoying bits of flesh except occasionally; that he had no use for them but for those occasions.
He was, therefore, totally unprepared for his every bitter barrier crumbling before Maggie’s unstudied goodness. She didn’t try to be good. She just was. It amazed him. He couldn’t have remained unaffected if he’d tried. In fact, he did try at first, and his efforts were for naught. Every day, his heart softened a little more and a little more. He looked into his shaving mirror in the morning and barely recognized the man staring back at him. It had never even occurred to him that love could be a part of his life.
“You’re turning me into mush, Maggie,” he told her when they went to bed one night.
“You don’t feel like mush to me, Jubal Green,” Maggie said saucily as she touched him intimately. She never even imagined she’d be able to tease like this and not feel wanton. But she didn’t feel wanton with Jubal. She just felt good.
“I’m not mush there, wife,” Jubal growled into her ear. He nibbled on her lobe and dipped his tongue into her ear.
“That’s what I said.” Maggie gasped under his gentle assault.
“I’m mush in my heart, wench,” her husband informed her. His words were muffled because they were spoken as he nibbled his way down her neck and over her shoulder and across her collar bone to her delectable breasts, where he stopped to suckle greedily.
“Oh, Lordy, Jubal. You can be as mushy as you want to be as long as you keep doing that to me.”
Maggie’s body reacted to Jubal’s ministrations with an electric tingling that shimmered over her in waves. She groaned with desire and her hand sought his hardness. She loved the feel of him. He was so hot and silky. And he was pulsing with life. Maggie wanted him to give her body that life. She wanted to have his baby, to have a family with him. It would be a family for both of them, and neither one of them had ever really, truly had one.
Before she met Jubal, she didn’t have much experience with the physical side of marriage. Her Kenny had been sweet and gentle. Now she was learning that he had been rather inexperienced. Not so Jubal Green. Every night was a marvel of newly discovered pleasure for Maggie.
It astonished her that this facet of marriage could hold so much incredible pleasure. She’d always submitted to Kenny with love and resignation. She’d never objected because she was so grateful to him, but she’d never really enjoyed it much, either. Now she spent all day just waiting and longing for bed time so she could love Jubal some more.
She told Jubal that.
“Oh, God, Maggie. I can’t even think about my work anymore because I’m always thinking about you. I want to be in you. All day long, all I can think about is coming home and doing this.”
At the moment he was dipping his fingers into her hot, moist womanhood, and Maggie nearly screamed with pleasure. His words caught her attention though.
“Don’t you dare think about me when you’re supposed to be thinking about keeping yourself alive, Jubal Green. If you get killed by that awful man, I’ll never forgive you.”
Jubal couldn’t stop the deep chuckle that rumbled out of his mouth and into Maggie’s as he covered her lips with his. His tongue followed his laughter and sparred with Maggie’s. When she guided his throbbing erection home, he uttered a deep, guttural hiss of satisfaction.
“Lord, Maggie, I’ll keep safe. I promise. I promise I’ll keep safe for you. For this. Oh, Lordy.”
Maggie could only gasp in response. Already, she was spiraling out of control, spinning higher and higher until she hurtled over the edge into a shattering burst of diamond sparks.
“Oh, yes, Maggie. Oh, God, yes.” And Jubal joined her in the fantastic land that they had discovered together and in which nobody else was allowed. It was theirs, and it glittered and sparkled with their love.
# # #
Sammy Napolitano was worried. He wasn’t particularly worried about Prometheus Mulrooney, but he was worried because there seemed to be an epidemic rampaging among his security forces.
“They’re all getting sick, Mr. Green,” he complained one morning about three weeks after Jubal and Maggie had tied the knot. “Every morning another couple of them wake up puking their guts out.”
Jubal grimaced at Sammy’s vivid description of his little army’s condition.
“Should I send for Doc Warner?” Jubal didn’t want anything to weaken his forces. He knew he needed every one of his men.
“Well, I guess it will be all right. It only seems to last for a day or so. Then they’re weak, but it doesn’t take long for them to be on their feet again. I’ve hired a couple more men to pick up the slack.”
“Be sure to let me know if you think it’s getting serious, Sammy. I don’t want to let down my guard now. Mulrooney’s in El Paso. Dan and I are going in there tomorrow.”
Sammy nodded. He knew the plan. His boss and Dan Blue Gully were going to make their move the following day. Jubal and Dan planned to make their circuitous way to El Paso, being very careful to elude any sentries Mulrooney had on the watch for them. They knew there would be sentries, too. Once they got to El Paso unobserved, they planned to kill Mulrooney. Any way they could.
Too many lives had been lost for either side in the long feud to feel compelled to act honorably. Of course, honor had never been a consideration for Prometheus Mulrooney. But before Jubal’s life had scarred him so badly, he once believed that he should fight Mulrooney fairly, face to face. It wasn’t very long, however, before he realized that Mulrooney never fought face to face. Or fairly.
So tomorrow, Jubal Green planned to sneak up on Mulrooney and murder him before he had a chance to so much as blink. Jubal didn’t even care if Mulrooney knew what hit him. He once thought he’d like Mulrooney to know who had sealed his doom. Now Jubal only wanted him dead and he didn’t care who did it or how. He wanted no further threats to himself or those he loved.
It was difficult to keep from becoming too excited now that he could see the end to a generation and a half’s worth of misery. But he knew he needed to be completely, methodically, coldly in control of himself or he would fail.
“We’ve got to keep calm, Danny.”
Dan eyed him with a wry grin. “I’m not the one you have to remind of that, Jubal.”
Jubal sighed. “You’re right, Danny.”
“Just try to think about the job, Jubal. Don’t think about Maggie.”
“It’s hard not to, Danny. I’ve never had so much to lose before.”
“I know,” his friend said. His words were solemn with compassion. “I know.”
Chapter Twenty
Jubal didn’t tell Maggie what his plans for the day were that morning when he was getting dressed. For her sake, he tried to act normal, as if this were going to be just another day. He didn’t want her to worry. Still, he couldn’t help grabbing one last kiss, and making it a deep, lasting, memorable one.
Jubal groaned. “Would that be so bad, Maggie?”
Maggie’s voice was soft as a summer cloud. “I’d love it, Jubal Green. I’d purely love it.”
Her whisper elicited another deep groan from Jubal. He tore himself away from her only with difficulty. But, he told himself, if the day went the way he and Dan planned it to go, he’d never have to leave her again. Not like this, with his life and hers in the balance.
“Tonight,” he promised her. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Maggie caressed his cheek and wondered why it was so much harder for her to let him go this morning than it usually was. With a sigh, she yawned and figured it was just because her monthlies were almost upon her. She always got emotional right before her monthlies. Thank God for Dan’s magic bark. At least she didn’t have to deal with headaches any longer. She’d take emotions any day over those killing headaches.
This day she and Four Toes were going out onto the desert to look for plants. Four Toes told her that she could make the front of the ranch house look pretty if she used the prickly plants that grew on the desert. The only trick was that she needed to select them judiciously and plan her landscaping. Maggie was skeptical at first.
“You mean those prickly pears and cactuses and things? Aren’t they real thorny?”
Four Toes laughed. “Yeah, they’re thorny, but they can be pretty if you plan them right. You can put flowers and things in between them. You can eat the fruit, too, and if you use the plants that grow around here, you won’t have to be forever haulin’ water out to the yard.”
Maggie looked at him thoughtfully. That idea had a certain merit, to be sure.
“Well, all right. It will be fun to go out for a picnic, anyway.” A picnic might take her mind off worrying about her husband.
She fixed a lunch and packed it into the pretty wicker basket Jubal had bought when she admired it at Garza’s. Every time Maggie looked at one of the many gifts he’d bought that day, she smiled and her heart glowed. Nobody had ever bought her things before.
Kenny would have, if he’d had any money, she reminded herself a little guiltily. Then she realized that it was all right; Kenny wouldn’t mind that she was happy now. She’d make sure of that when she returned to their farm. Some day.
Connie and Henry, Jr., seemed to be suffering from the same malady that had been plaguing Sammy Napolitano’s little army.
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Maggie didn’t like the idea of having a nice picnic on the desert without taking Connie and little Henry along. It didn’t seem fair somehow.
“You just go along with you,” Beula told her. “You can have another picnic another day and take my kids along then. They both know you’d take them today if you could. Life isn’t always fair you know, Maggie. The sooner they learn that, the better.”
Although Maggie agreed wholeheartedly with Beula that life wasn’t always fair, she had serious doubts about whether children needed be initiated into that sad fact at such a tender age. She didn’t argue with Beula, though. She guessed people just believed things according to what life had dealt them, and Maggie figured that life had been pretty kind to Beula Todd.
Nevertheless, since Maggie’s picnic basket was already packed, Annie was outfitted in her sturdy new shoes and pretty checked sunbonnet, she and Four Toes set out on the wagon to go exploring. Two of Jubal’s guards came along to ride shotgun.
They weren’t the two men who usually accompanied Maggie whenever she and Four Toes or Jubal went out wandering. Those men were victims of the mysterious stomach ailment that seemed to be making its way through the ranch denizens. They were hand-picked by Sammy Napolitano, though, so they must be capable. Maggie couldn’t account for the feeling of uneasiness that assailed her when she observed the two new men.
They look rough, she thought. Then she decided she was being fanciful. These men were hired to be rough. Jubal had hired a whole band of rough men to protect the ranch.
Maggie also knew that it was necessary to have guards when one went away from the ranch house, but it still made her uncomfortable. Every now and then, when she was working in the house, or digging in the garden, or reading in the patio, she could forget about the threat that Prometheus Mulrooney posed to everything she loved. But with two armed men riding alongside the wagon, that blissful forgetfulness was impossible. She was already worried today for some reason; those armed men, especially since she didn’t know them, just made her feel more skittish. She chalked her uneasiness up to her impending monthly flux.
“We’re going on a picnic, Annie,” Maggie told her daughter.
“We going pic-ic,” Annie told the gourd dolly she held hugged to her chest.
Four Toes chuckled and flicked the reins. The two mules jerked the wagon forward and ambled into a sluggish walk. The rifle Four Toes always carried with him lay on the floor at his feet, in easy reach in case of any danger.
Maggie tried to keep her mind on their conversation as the mules bumped the wagon along. Four Toes was talking to her about plants. But for some reason, Maggie kept looking back at the ranch today. She was loath to watch it getting smaller and smaller as they drove away from it.
The early June day was pleasant. Recent rains had blessed the normally dry desert so that it was greener than usual. Wild flowers bloomed in clumps of yellow and purple. This time, since she wore her new spectacles, Maggie could discern the tiny lavender blooms that she hadn’t been able to see on the ride from her farm to El Paso. Her heart constricted at the memory, and she mentally uttered a little prayer of thanks for her husband and for whatever kind spirit had brought him to her door. She pointed the purple flowers out to her daughter now.
When she looked over her shoulder again, she felt a terrible uneasiness as she realized they were so far away from the ranch that she couldn’t see it any longer. She shook her head, wondering what the problem was. Her head just seemed to be stuffed full of foreboding.
“Maggie, are you all right?” Four Toes’ voice penetrated Maggie’s thick thoughts and made her jump.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Four Toes. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel funny.”
He looked at her curiously. “What do you mean by ‘funny’?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Maggie sighed. “You’ll think I’m being stupid. I feel—I feel—I’m worried. I guess that’s what it is. And I don’t know why.”
Four Toes eyed her with concern. “Anything in particular you’re worried about?”
Maggie shook her head. “No. There’s nothing. It’s probably just stupid.” She tried to smile at him, but only achieved a crooked grimace.
“Maybe we ought to go back,” said Four Toes. “I don’t scoff at premonitions, Maggie. People don’t usually feel uneasy for no reason, even if they can’t put their finger on what the reason is.”
Maggie did smile then. “Do you really think so? I feel so silly for thinking we’d be safer back on the ranch. There’s just something about being away from it that makes me nervous today.”
Four Toes pulled up on the mules. “We’re going back,” he announced. “We can picnic in the patio.”
The two guards had ridden up next to the wagon.
“What’s going on?” asked one of them.
He was a surly-looking man with longish black hair and a droopy black mustache. Maggie was sure she was being silly for the revulsion she felt when she eyed the man, since Sammy Napolitano never hired anybody who didn’t have good references. She peered at the second guard, a small fellow with light brown hair and milky blue eyes, and realized she didn’t feel any better about him. It must just be her monthly.
“We’re heading back to Green Valley,” Four Toes told the two guards.
The dark-haired man looked across Four Toes and Maggie to the
light-haired man. Maggie saw him give what she thought was a slight nod and suddenly her heart clutched with fear. When she saw the light-haired man nod back, she frowned.
“I thought you were going on a picnic,” the dark-haired man said. He sounded as though he were trying to be pleasant.
“We were, but we changed our minds.” It was Maggie this time. Her voice was hard and the sharp edge to her words surprised her.
She noticed that Four Toes’ eyes had narrowed, and her fear surged higher.
“Mrs. Green wants to go back to the ranch now, so we’re going,” Four Toes said. He raised the reins to slap the mules’ backs.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said the black-haired man.
With one fluid movement, Four Toes had picked up the rifle and lifted it to his shoulder. But when he saw the black-haired man’s gun, cocked, and aimed at his chest, the Indian slowly lowered the gun.
“Damn,” he whispered. Maggie heard the frustration and defeat in the word, and she squeezed Annie tight.
Annie had nearly fallen asleep while Maggie and Four Toes had been talking, but with her mother’s convulsive hug, her big brown eyes flew open. She rubbed her eyes with a tiny fist, looked at the dark-haired man, and frowned.
“Mama, dat man has a gun,” she said. She obviously did not approve.
“Shhh. I know it, baby.” Maggie didn’t want to do anything that might get her daughter hurt. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she suspected the unthinkable: that Jubal’s security forces had been breached and these men were traitors. She got mad.
“Why are you pointing that gun at us?” she demanded. “My husband employs you to protect us, not point guns at us.”
The black-haired man spit a jaw-full of tobacco juice into the desert and Maggie watched dust puff up around it. It seemed to her that things were happening very slowly.
One Bright Morning Page 35