Which was exactly the question Luke wanted answered.
"Who is that man?"
Luke hadn't heard Valeria approach. The men stood back to allow her to step forward.
"I told you to stay in your tent," he said. She looked composed, but he could tell from the continual movement of her eyes, the incident had upset her a great deal. "I waited, but you never came back."
"I wanted to find out what Hawk had discovered." "If you had told me, I wouldn't have worried." "Worried about what?"
"About the men I heard moaning," she said. "I was on my way to see if I could help, but Hans told me the chef had already taken care of them."
"What could you do?" It never occurred to him that she would think of anyone but herself.
"Elvira and I worked in the hospital during the war." That surprised him even more.
"I'll remember that next time."
"Do you think there'll be a next time?"
He didn't know how much of the truth he wanted her to know. "You never can tell. It's always best to be prepared."
She looked at the man on the horse.
"He's an Indian," she said. That appeared to relieve her mind.
"No. A white man dressed up to look like an Indian." The worry returned. "Why would he do that?" "That's what we're trying to figure out. Does it make any sense to you?"
"No."
"I told you we would be in danger," Hans said. He'd forced his way into the bystanders, followed by Otto. Luke groaned inwardly. All he needed now was Elvira, and the group would be complete.
"There's always danger when you travel through open country," Luke said. "You've got more wealth here than most men can dream of. That's why I made sure all the drivers are expert gunmen."
"Is that why the attackers left so quickly?" Valeria asked.
"I hope so." He felt certain the attack had something to do with Valeria, but he was at a loss to say how. "We can't stand 'round talking. Tell your cook to get breakfast ready."
"But we've been attacked," Hans said.
"All the more reason to leave," Luke said. "If they come again, they'll have to look for us. You can be sure I won't be out hunting."
"Did you find some meat?" Otto asked. "A deer."
"I love a venison roast. I'll talk to the chef right away." The fool was more concerned about his appetite than his safety.
"It won't last long with twenty people to feed," Zeke said.
"That's our deer," Otto said, apparently never considering the possibility Luke would share the meat with the drivers.
"Any meat I kill belongs to everybody," Luke said.
"There'll be no more cooking three times what you can eat. Nor," he said before Otto could protest, "will I allow you to eat three times as much at a sitting as one of my drivers."
"You can't give us orders." Otto seemed more shocked than fearful of going hungry.
"If you want more to eat, go kill it yourself." "I can't ride."
It was Luke's turn to be surprised. "Then you'd better trim your appetite." Otto made a sputtering noise.
"We'll all have to make changes in the way we do things," Valeria said. "It really doesn't make sense to serve more food than we can eat."
"But I can eat my share," Otto protested.
"Maybe you shouldn't," Hans said. "A slimming diet would prolong the life of your coat buttons."
Luke had no intention of standing around while these men took potshots at each other. "Hawk, get some of the drivers to help you bury that man. Zeke and I will finish dressing the meat."
Valeria followed him.
"You don't want to watch," he said.
"Why not?"
"It's not a sight suitable for a woman of your type." "And what is my type?"
He refused to let her put him on the spot.
"I'm certain you've never had to dress the meat you ate."
She looked at the deer. "Is that the kind of food I'll be expected to eat at Rudolf's ranch?"
"Maybe."
"Then I'll watch. I expect I'll have to learn to butcher, too."
Luke studied her expression for a moment, trying to determine if she was serious. He hoped she wasn't. She was a spoiled, silly woman, and no man in his right mind would consider having anything to do with her, even temporarily, even if it was only physical.
But then women like her didn't have merely physical relationships. Nor were they temporary. They had only marriages governed by contracts. It would be like becoming part of a government. No emotion involved. None desired. Arrange the politics and the money, and the people fell into line. He wasn't the least bit sentimental, but he was glad such an inhumane system was being pushed into oblivion.
Her wanting to change was a good sign, but he wasn't sure about her sudden determination to learn all she could about living in Arizona. He didn't want her to be sincere. He didn't want a reason to admire her. That could be
more dangerous than being physically attracted to her. He hadn't wanted to admire Isabelle when she adopted him and his brother, when she gave them unconditional love whether they wanted it or not, when she enfolded them into a family that was warm and comforting despite the years of hurt and anger each carried with him. He hadn't wanted to admire Jake when he taught them to do an honest day's work, when he tried to instill in them a sense of right and wrong, when he gave them understanding without demanding less from them.
Yet his memory of his adoptive parents remained as strong and clear as the day he rode away from their ranch. Nor could he forget their teachings, the memories of a life he'd enjoyed for five years. That's what came with respect and admiration. No matter what he did, where he went, they'd be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life.
He didn't want that to happen with Valeria. He might start thinking of her all the time.
Valeria couldn't sleep. The attack had stunned, frightened, and confused her. She hadn't really believed anybody wanted to kill her. She couldn't think of any reason why someone should. She didn't have any power, and her uncle and future husband would control her money.
Rebellions and changes of government in her country had always been understandable. Battles took place on neatly confined battlefields. The men of her family died in combat or in their beds. No attempt had ever been made to harm the women and children. There was a much greater chance she'd die in childbirth than at the hands of an assassin.
But if she was to believe Luke and Hans, she was the reason for the attack. She didn't know the man dressed up like an Indian, had no reason to feel sympathetic, but no one had ever died because of her. It made her feel guilty, as though it was her fault. For the first time she felt the weight of her heritage, of being able to cause men to die. She didn't like it. She wanted to hide, to do anything she could to keep from feeling guilty for that man's death.
She heard the rustle of covers, the creak of a bed. "What's wrong, Elvira?"
"Nothing."
"Can't you sleep?"
"No."
"Neither can I."
The attack had made them late leaving that morning, and Luke had driven them hard all day to make up the lost time. Valeria decided he cared more about the loss of time than he did about the death of the stranger or the injuries to her servants. Valeria tried to tell him that palace servants weren't used to being attacked by Indians. Zeke had said anyone stupid enough to run into the path of a bullet ought to get shot. If they hadn't had different colored skin, Valeria could have believed Luke and Zeke were blood brothers.
"Is Luke still outside the tent?" Valeria asked. "He said he would be," Elvira replied. "Go look."
Despite the attack, the most powerful image in her mind was that of Luke sleeping on the ground in front of her tent. She knew there was a wall of canvas and several feet of space between them, but it felt like he was so near she could reach out and touch him.
And he could touch her.
"Don't light the lamp," Valeria warned Elvira. "I don't want him to think we're spying on him."
Spying wasn't quite the way to put it. She didn't want him to know she was even thinking of him. He never hesitated to take advantage of his experience and knowledge to make her look vain and foolish. If he thought she had any personal interest in him, he'd probably make her life miserable.
"I can't see him," Elvira whispered.
Even though she had argued on three separate occasions during the day against his sleeping outside her tent, Valeria felt hurt and disappointed that he hadn't thought her safety important enough to keep his promise.
"Open the tent and look out," Valeria said.
"I can't."
"Why?"
"I'm scared."
It wasn't fair to make Elvira look for Luke. If Valeria wanted to know where he was, she ought to have the courage to look for herself.
"Never mind," Valeria said. "Get back in bed."
Elvira scurried across the tent so quickly, Valeria couldn't help smiling. She got out of bed and reached for a dressing gown.
"I don't think you ought to go outside," Elvira asked.
"I'm not. I'll just stick my head out. It'll only take a second."
She opened the flap, stuck her head out, then stifled a scream. She found herself practically nose to nose with Luke.
Chapter Eleven
"Do you need to take care of nature's call?" Luke asked.
Valeria couldn't answer. Other than jerking back instinctively when she found herself face-to-face with Luke, she couldn't move. Not even the incredible, inconceivable, ridiculous notion that she should seek relief among the grass and thorns had the power to unlock her tongue.
"You can't go wandering off by yourself," Luke said. "No telling what kind of critter you might stumble over."
It was impossible even to consider discussing such an eventuality with a man.
"Oh, God, you're sleepwalking," Luke exclaimed. "You're about to go wandering around in the middle of the Arizona desert without knowing what the hell you're doing. I'll slit Hans's throat. He didn't breathe a word about this."
Luke took her by the shoulders, turned her around, and gave her a tiny push. She stumbled forward.
"Elvira, put her to bed," Luke hissed, "and don't let her get up again."
Luke withdrew his head and closed the flap on the tent.
Valeria felt the tension leave her body so completely, she wasn't sure she had the strength to make it to her bed. She stumbled forward and collapsed with a sigh of relief. Luke hadn't ignored her. He hadn't gone back on his promise. He'd been so vigilant he'd known the instant she opened the tent flap.
As she pulled the covers over her and settled back into bed, a smile curved her lips.
"There's nothing I can do but take the wheel apart and rebuild it," the driver said.
Luke had spent the last half hour airing his entire lexicon of curses. He'd even invented a few. But nothing could change the fact that the wagon's wheel was broken, and it would take most of the day to fix it. They'd left camp barely an hour earlier and traveled less than a mile. Their day was over. They'd eat more from their dwindling stores of food and exhaust more of his patience without getting a mile closer to their goal.
"The rest of you might as well pull your wagons under the trees," Luke told the gathered drivers. "It'll be hot today."
"It's hot every day," Otto said. He'd complained about the inferior quality of American wagons, the fact that there didn't appear to be a single proper road in the entire country, said he hadn't been this hot when he lived in Egypt.
Luke ignored Otto. "Hawk, you want to see if you can find a deer?"
Hawk nodded.
"That means all of us have to be extra watchful," Luke said. "The only time we were attacked was when one of us went out hunting."
"Do you think they're watching?" Otto asked. He seemed almost hopeful.
"No," Luke said, "but I don't intend to be caught off guard again."
It didn't take long to pull the wagons down to the river and unhitch the mules. They could use a day's rest. They were big, strong animals, but the extremely difficult terrain and the heavy wagons had taken a toll on their strength. If it had been up to Luke, he'd have dumped half that stuff days ago.
He watched as Valeria's servants set up her tent in the shade of the cottonwoods. He wondered how a woman used to having a whole palace to herself could accustom herself to a tent, but she had adapted much more quickly than her maid. Hans tried, but the little man struggled with the heat, the strangeness of the situation, and his fear of something happening to his beloved princess. He simply didn't have a mind that could stretch far enough to envision a social system different from the one he'd been born into. Valeria would always be a royal princess to him, worthy of devotion, obedience, and reverence. Luke couldn't figure out what Valeria or her family could have done to warrant such devotion.
His thoughts broke off when Valeria, after looking over her shoulder and noticing him looking her way, said something to Elvira and started toward him. He was tempted to turn away, but that would have been an admission of weakness he wasn't ready to make even to himself.
"Are we definitely going to be here all day?" Valeria asked when she reached him.
"It looks that way."
"I want to ride to that mountain," she said, pointing to one of the sky mountains that rose straight up from the desert floor.
"The closest one is at least ten miles away." "How long would it take to get there?"
"Maybe two hours with another hour or so to climb high enough to notice a difference in the temperature." "We've got all day."
"It's a very exhausting ride, and I couldn't allow you to go alone."
"I wasn't planning on going alone. I was hoping you would take me."
He didn't want to take her anywhere. He certainly didn't want to spend an entire day alone with her.
"You don't have a suitable horse."
"She's not using my horse," Zeke said, "even if I am going to be stuck here all day."
"I have my own horses," Valeria said. "They're not used to the desert."
"They're used to mountains," Valeria said. "That's about all we have in my country."
"I shouldn't leave the camp," Luke said.
"Your job is to protect me. Since I'll be with you, you can still do your job."
"Such a trip will expose you to danger."
"Does that mean you're unable to protect me without all these men to help you?"
Zeke let out a crack of laughter. Several of the drivers grinned. Luke acted as if he didn't see them. "I don't need anyone's help to do my job."
"Good. The land looks flat," she said. "We can see anyone coming from miles away."
"There are lots of breaks in the land-dry washes, ravines, low hills-"
"Do you dislike me that much, or are you afraid to ride with me?"
Luke felt all eyes focus on him. "No." "Good, because I'm going for a ride."
Valeria had never been so hot in her life. If Luke had made the slightest attempt to be friendly, she'd have admitted her mistake and asked him to take her back to camp and the coolness of the cottonwoods. She even considered turning around and starting back by herself. It was impossible to miss the San Pedro River. It formed the only ribbon of green in the desert landscape.
But she wouldn't turn back if she fainted or her nose burned so badly it peeled. He'd been rude, talked as little as possible, and made it abundantly clear he'd rather be almost anywhere than by her side. Besides, they'd been climbing for the last hour and she'd finally begun to notice a drop in the temperature.
"The mountains in our country are more beautiful than these." She'd said as much before but had received little more than a grunt for her trouble. "They're covered with pine and fir trees that give the woods a wonderful scent. They have beautiful meadows filled with wildflowers in the spring."
"We have mountains in Colorado like that," he said. "Where's Colorado?"
"North of here."
That was good. Anything nor
th sounded cooler. "Is it very far?"
"Five or six hundred miles, depending on where you want to go."
Her entire country was less than thirty miles from one end to the other. She could barely conceive of a country big enough to have all these states and each one so large.
"We have snow on our mountains in winter."
"There are snow-covered mountains in any one of a dozen states."
"We can ice skate on the ponds and rivers." It had been unbearably hot every step of the way from New Orleans to San Antonio and El Paso to Arizona. She couldn't imagine any place in America getting cold enough to freeze ponds and rivers.
"We have lakes bigger than your whole country that freeze up for the winter."
She really didn't want to hear any more about the geography of America, its flora and fauna. That was all Luke would talk about except for saying that her horse seemed remarkably surefooted for a hot-blooded animal.
"He's a thoroughbred," she'd explained.
"They're fast but high strung," he said. "They wouldn't be any good on treacherous mountain trails or around cougars."
Then he'd gone right back to talking about cactus, poisonous snakes, and the Indians that used to roam the area.
"Why did you go to Europe?" she asked, interrupting a monologue on the various kinds of plants found at different altitudes.
"I went there to work." "Guarding people?" "To fight."
"In the infantry?" "I was an officer." "A mercenary." "Yes."
No one liked mercenaries. They were foreigners, cold blooded, and often cruel. They fought for money alone, not ideals, principles, or the people. "Where did you fight?" "Everywhere."
"Why didn't you stay?"
"I didn't like the people who hired me."
At least he had a conscience somewhere inside him, even if he kept it well out of sight.
"Which side did you fight for?"
"The one that paid the most money."
"That means you fought for some king. I thought you said you hated kings."
"I do."
"But you'll fight for the person who pays you the most money."
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