The Mavericks

by Leigh Greenwood

  “I’m never going to fall in love.” She started circling the fire again. “I thought Hawk and Gardner would be back by now.”

  “You know what men are like when they start talking about horses.”

  “No, I don’t. How are they?”

  Suzette shrugged, but Josie thought she saw the suggestion of a smile.

  “They get so involved they can’t stop. Sometimes I think it’s their substitute for talking about women. There are lots of things they can’t say about a woman, even to another man, but there’s nothing you can’t say about a horse. I’ve seen men go glassy-eyed talking about a mare’s limbs, her shoulder, her rump, her breeding potential. And the whole time they’re running their hands all over the poor horse.”

  Josie looked at her friend in dismay, only to realize Suzette’s eyes were twinkling with merriment. “You awful woman. You were kidding me the whole time, making me think terrible things.”

  “I would never do such a thing.” But Suzette could barely manage to protest without laughing.

  “I never knew you were such a dishonest woman.” But Josie’s accusation lacked conviction. She wasn’t immune to the laughter in Suzette’s eyes. Giving in to the impulse, she dropped down next to her friend. “What prompted you to say something like that?”

  Suzette leaned toward Josie until their shoulders touched. “It stopped you from thinking about Zeke, didn’t it?”

  Josie sobered. “For a few seconds.”

  “Well, don’t start again. Put your mind to work figuring out how we’re going to get the best possible deal from Mr. Gardner.”

  “Do you think he really owns part of the Birdcage?”

  Suzette turned to Josie. “Don’t you?”

  “I don’t know what reason he would have to lie about something so easily disproved, but Zeke keeps telling me not to trust him.”

  “Zeke is jealous.”

  “No, he’s not!”

  “I’m not saying he’s in love with you, but no man likes to have another man show up and monopolize the attention of a woman he previously had all to himself.”

  “Considering what he thinks of me, I’m surprised he wasn’t delighted.”

  Josie didn’t believe she could have been so wrong about a man’s feelings for her. She prided herself on knowing exactly the effect she was having on a man, or men in general. It was what made her successful. If she’d misjudged Zeke, then it was possible she’d misjudged other men in the past.

  Zeke’s return kept Josie from asking Suzette why she thought Zeke liked her, but she made a mental note to ask her as soon as they were alone. The possibility that she’d made a mistake in judgment bothered her almost as much as this inexplicable attraction she had for Zeke.

  “Hawk and Gardner not back yet?” Zeke asked Josie.

  “Nope. You ready to go to sleep?”

  “No. Just wondering what they could be talking about for so long.”

  Almost as if they knew they were being talked about, Hawk appeared out of the night, followed closely by Gardner.

  “That’s a fine group of mares you boys have,” Gardner said to Zeke. “I’m surprised you managed to find them, much less talk their owners into selling.”

  “A lot of people owe us favors,” Zeke said. “And when that fails, there’s always cash.”

  Gardner laughed easily. “I expect you had to hand over quite a bit of that.”

  “No more than we had,” Zeke replied.

  Josie thought Gardner’s questions were getting a bit too personal, but she was relieved Zeke didn’t appear to be upset. It certainly would be a relief if he could be so reasonable for the rest of the trip.

  Hawk poured coffee into his cup, swallowed the hot liquid without waiting for it to cool, then hung his cup on a mesquite branch. “The horses are quiet, but I don’t like to leave them alone. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Aren’t you going with him?” Gardner asked Zeke.

  “I sleep next to the wagon.”

  “I thought since I’m here you wouldn’t have to stay.”

  “Hawk doesn’t need my help. And if he does, he’ll call. Now, I’m bedding down between the fire and the wagon. You got the rest of the ground to choose from.”

  “I guess that means I don’t get to sleep in the wagon?”

  It was obvious Gardner was trying to make a joke, but Zeke set about laying out his bedroll as though he hadn’t spoken. Tired of the tension between the two men, Josie turned to Suzette. “I’m worn out.”

  Suzette got to her feet. “Me, too. I’d forgotten how tiring it can be to ride all day.”

  Josie didn’t think it could be as tiring as being caught between Zeke and Gardner. She was looking forward to a full night without having to deal with any man. The only problem was that she couldn’t stop thinking about Zeke. Last night he’d even invaded her dreams. No man was that important to her. She simply wouldn’t allow it.

  Suzette waited outside the wagon until Josie got settled. There wasn’t a lot of room inside, so it was easier if both of them weren’t trying to move around at the same time. She didn’t mind, because the wait gave her a few moments to think back over the day.

  She recalled how all during breakfast that morning Zeke had practically walked on eggshells to keep from upsetting Josie. He hadn’t complained when Suzette wordlessly helped him clean up, and just as silently helped him harness the mules to the wagon. He kept up a steady conversation, answering his own questions when necessary. If there hadn’t been so much tension in the atmosphere, it would have been funny.

  Suzette had looked back at the wagon several times during the day, but all her hopes of seeing Zeke and Josie talking together in a relaxed and pleasant way came to nothing.

  “Zeke did all the cooking,” Josie had announced after breakfast. “He said I wasn’t used to cooking over a fire yet, that I didn’t know how to keep grit or ash from getting into the food.”

  Josie appeared to be taking the criticism in stride, but Suzette had never known Josie to take any criticism well. She just hoped the two of them could get along a little better from now on. The sexual tension between them at breakfast had given her a knot in her stomach. There would be no living with Josie until she figured out her feelings for Zeke.

  But most of her thoughts were about Hawk. The longer she was around him, the more she saw of him, the stronger her attraction to him became. In almost no time at all it was threatening to become an obsession. She had felt a strong physical desire for several men since her husband’s death, but she’d been able to handle it without any undue strain. Why was it so different with Hawk?

  During the day they’d been separated by the mares, but once they stopped, there was no distance separating them. She could see him when she looked up, stand close to him, even bump into him. Sometimes, when their eyes met, he would smile at her. Whenever that happened, something inside her would turn over and she’d feel almost light-headed. At the same time, she could feel heat stir in her belly. Once that morning, her limbs felt so weak she’d grabbed the saddle horn to steady herself. Though she relished the time they spent looking for good graze, and picketing and hobbling the horses for the night, she had been relieved when they went to the wagon for supper.

  “You can climb in now,” Josie called. “I’m all settled.”

  It was so dark inside the wagon, Suzette had to feel around with her hands to find the small trunk that contained most of her clothes. She had to choose the items she wanted by texture. Experience had taught her to separate her clothes into piles in the morning when she got dressed, but tonight she wasn’t looking for her nightgown. Instead, she searched for and found the quilt Laurie’s mother had given them. Next she took the two blankets Josie wasn’t using. “I’m going to sleep out tonight,” she said.

  Josie sat up. “Why? There’s plenty of room in the wagon.”

  They were friends and partners, but Suzette wasn’t ready to discuss her real reasons. “I feel guilty letting the men sl
eep on the ground while we sleep on a soft bed in the wagon.”

  “They want us to sleep in the wagon because it’s safer.”

  “Maybe, but my mind’s made up.” She was relieved it was impossible to see Josie’s expression in the darkness. Or for Josie to see her expression. She was certain the truth was written all over her face.

  “You won’t be able to sleep on the ground. It’s too hard.”

  “I’ll have to learn.” She felt around until she found a small canvas tarp to put under her to keep moisture from seeping into her bedding. “If I get too miserable, I can always come back.”

  “Are you sure about this?” Only one question was asked, but many were implied.

  “Yes.” She wasn’t, but she’d made her decision.

  “Come back if you change your mind.”

  But as Suzette walked through the darkness, she knew she wouldn’t come back. Each step she took away from the wagon made her less sure she was making the right decision, but this was something she had to do. She had mapped out the course of her life several years ago, and there was no place in it for a man like Hawk. Her commitment was firm, her vision unclouded, yet she couldn’t make herself turn around and return to the safety of the wagon. She knew what she had to do, and once she reached Tombstone she would do it. But this trip had given her a window of time when, for a few days, she was outside the world she occupied, when the plan for her life could be set aside. Maybe, for the next little while, she could have what life had denied her.

  “What are you doing here?” Hawk asked when Suzette reached the spot where he’d laid out his bedroll.

  “I’ve come to spend the night with you,” she said, then dropped her bedding next to his.

  Chapter Nine

  There was enough light for Suzette to see Hawk’s expression . . . or lack of one. He rarely showed emotion, but now his face seemed frozen, a locked door that concealed and protected his thoughts. Suzette hadn’t minded this barrier before, but now she wanted to know what was behind it. She’d walked out on a limb, and she wanted some warning if it was going to break beneath her.

  Seated on his bedroll, Hawk hadn’t moved; he just looked up at Suzette. “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep in the wagon with Josie?”

  She thought he must know the answer to that question. There was only one reason why she would be here.

  She’d studied her decision from every angle, but she hadn’t thought about it from his perspective. Was he interested in a temporary relationship? If so, would he want one with her, especially under these conditions? Regardless of the answers to those questions, she’d come too far to back down now.

  “Once I reach Tombstone, I’ll spend the rest of my life sleeping inside a building on a soft bed. While I’ve got you and the horses to protect me, I want to sleep under the stars. I want to know what it’s like to feel absolutely free.”

  “Sleeping under the stars won’t make you free.”

  “I know that, but it’s so different from anything I’ve ever done in my life that it will make me feel like a different person. And that will make me feel free.”

  He hadn’t moved; his expression hadn’t changed. Maybe he was afraid to move until he was sure of her decision. “Do you want to escape who you are that badly?”

  She hadn’t thought of it as an escape. She knew that wasn’t possible. She had responsibilities that had to be honored regardless of the cost to herself. She knew that and accepted it, but circumstance had offered her a chance to do something for herself, and she meant to take advantage of it. She wanted to close the distance between them. She sank down onto her bedding. Now their bodies were only inches apart.

  “Escape is the wrong word. Let’s say I want to step outside my life for a few days. I’ll go back when I reach Tombstone.”

  “This might make it harder.”

  She couldn’t tell whether he was asking these questions for her or for himself. Surely he had to feel just as trapped by the circumstances life had imposed on him as she did. He couldn’t want to be an outcast, to feel he had to live on the fringes of society.

  “I’ll take that chance.” She waited uneasily for his response, but she knew his reluctance to ask her to stay didn’t stem from a lack of desire for her. He, too, had to decide if stepping outside the limits he’d set for himself would make it impossible to step back when they reached Tombstone. “If you want me to go back to the wagon, just say so.”

  “I don’t want you to go back.” A note of longing throbbed in Hawk’s voice. “I haven’t wanted you to go back since that first night.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  She didn’t think it would be fair to burden him with her story. He couldn’t change what had happened in the past, and he would have no part in what would happen in the future. She looked into his eyes. They were large and black with moonlight reflecting in them. She wanted to tell him everything, to reach out for the strength she knew would be hers for the asking, to shelter in his protection, but she pulled back. She didn’t want to tear down any barriers she’d have to rebuild later. It would be too painful.

  “Maybe I didn’t say anything because I thought it would make you think badly of me,” she said.

  “That’s not possible.”

  “Sure it is. Men make assumptions about women all the time.”

  He was silent for a moment. “People are always making assumptions about me. I know what it’s like.”

  Why did she keep forgetting that? Why was it that she saw a man when others saw an Indian? “Then you know how lonely it can become.”

  “And you think spending the night with me will make a difference?”

  She thought of several responses, some flippant, some racy, but her answer was a single word. “Yes.”

  Hawk reached out and cupped her cheek with his hand. “I never expected anything like this.”

  “You thought about it?”

  “Yes.”

  “A lot?”

  “Too much.”

  She wondered if he’d thought about it as much as she had. Maybe he had insisted she ride ahead of the horses so she wouldn’t see his reaction to her. Maybe she was kidding herself that she was so attractive Hawk couldn’t control himself. Nothing about the man indicated that he moved so much as a muscle without intending to. “I thought about it, too. At first, I thought it was impossible.”

  “What changed your mind?” he asked.

  “You.”

  “How?”

  She wasn’t sure she could answer that question. It was instinct more than knowledge that told her she could trust him. It was something physical—equally instinctive—that ignited the attraction she felt toward him. But to say the attraction was based only on that would strip their relationship of anything personal, of anything warm and positive, of anything wonderful and affirming.

  “You’ve gone out of your way to help us even though it would be better for you if you’d left us far behind.”

  “Any man would have done the same.”

  “Maybe, but it wouldn’t have been the same.”

  She had to find the words to explain how he was different from every other man she’d known. Her father, stepfather, and husband had been thoughtless, selfish, even cruel. They had never considered her wishes or her welfare, only their own comfort. The men she worked for were the same. The men she danced for were even worse. She’d only known men with huge appetites which they were determined to satisfy regardless of the cost to others. She reached up and covered Hawk’s hand with her own.

  “It’s not what you did, but the kindness that motivated you. No one has ever been so nice to me without expecting something in return. And after the way Josie acted with Zeke, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d left us that first day.” She pulled his hand down to her lap, clasped it between both of her palms. “Why didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t want to.”

  His answer was more than sh
e’d hoped for. She reminded herself this could only last until Tombstone. “You don’t know me at all.”

  “I know as much about you as you know about me.”

  That couldn’t be true. His history was in the color of his skin, in the shape of the bones of his face, in the single feather he sometimes wore. It didn’t matter that he was one of the most attractive men she’d ever met. She was certain his handsomeness made his life all the more difficult. How many women had yearned for what they knew they shouldn’t want, couldn’t have, and had taken out their frustration on him? How many men, knowing how their wives, daughters, even mothers felt, had intentionally made everything harder for him?

  “Then you know this must end when we reach Tombstone?” she asked.

  He was silent for a long time, his body motionless, but his eyes bored into hers as though trying to peel back the layers of her mind. “Why must it end?”

  He didn’t sound angry. Not even upset. Just curious. She had to tell him. She knew now it would only work if she was completely honest with him.

  “My mother was a beautiful woman,” she began. “When my father died, a rich man from a proud and titled family wanted to marry her. Because my mother was not from a noble family, he moved to Quebec to spare himself embarrassment. Unfortunately, my mother died shortly after we arrived in Canada, and my stepfather found himself with two unwanted daughters.”

  “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

  “I was sixteen, my sister just seven, when my stepfather married again to a woman of his own class. She didn’t want anything to do with us, so he married me off to the first man who would have me. My husband used my dowry to go to Colorado to look for gold, but it was much easier to spend my money than to dig in the dirt. After the money was gone, he did go to the gold fields, but he got into a fight and was killed. When I returned to Quebec, I found my stepfather was sending my sister out to do housework. Much of my father’s money had been used to support us after he died. My stepfather took the rest. I was forced to take a job to support myself and educate my sister. My father had been a wealthy man, and I had been reared as the daughter of a gentleman. I was taught all the things young ladies were expected to learn, among them how to sing and dance. So that’s what I did.”