Arizona Sky

by Ginger Simpson

  “It’s a deal.” Looking relieved, he plopped his hat back atop his head and smiled. “We’d best get movin’. We haven’t made much progress today.”

  Odessa forced her gaze away from his full lips and slapped the dust and dried grass from her skirt. Only a few moments ago, she’d tasted him—and liked it. She ignored her fluttering stomach and cleared her throat. “I’m ready to go when you are.”

  * * *

  “Why are we heading this way?” Odessa fully expected to pass by the old adobe ruins where they’d stayed the night, but Zach reined Storm onto another trail. She squinted into the sun, much preferring the previous route where the heat singed her left side instead of hitting her full in the face.

  “It’s a shortcut.” Zach pressed his hand against the crown of his hat as a gust of wind stirred a dust devil across their path.

  Shifting her weight to ease her cramping thighs, she tightened her grasp about his waist. Her mind spun with reflections of the kiss, and she fretted over what else might happen. She forced her thoughts to something else. “Do you suppose it’s May already?”

  “I reckon it is. I left for Tombstone on April 30th. Why do you ask?”

  “Cause my birthday is this month.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “What day?”

  “The fifteenth. Pa and I were gonna…” Words failed her as a lump formed in her throat. She’d never see the gift her father promised to buy once they got to Phoenix.

  Zach turned forward again. “It’s not polite to ask a lady’s age, so I won’t, but you can tell me if you want.”

  “How old do I look?”

  He chuckled. “I’m not fallin’ for that old trick. No matter what I say, I’ll be wrong.”

  “Eighteen.” Her voice pierced the momentary silence. “I can’t believe how fast time passes.”

  Zach snapped his fingers. “Dagnabit, I should’ve guessed. I’d been right.”

  “Sure, you would have.” She gave him a playful smack on the arm. “You had no idea of my age, did you?”

  “Well, I knew all along you weren’t a child.”

  “Really? How?”

  “W-well…When I first found you, I-I…”

  Realizing his discomfort, she giggled. “Never mind. I’ll take your word for it.

  Her thoughts drifted, and she sighed. “Seems like just yesterday Mama taught me to sew buttons…” Sadness lumped in Odessa’s throat once again, and she fought welling tears. The image of her mother’s face filled her mind. One by one, Odessa had lost everyone she loved.

  “I can’t remember my Ma.” Zach’s voice startled her. “Don’t even have a tintype of her, but Pa says she was real pretty.”

  Odessa swiped her eyes with her sleeve and straightened. “At least you still have your Pa. I’ll bet he’s proud of you for traveling so far to take a job.”

  Her words pierced his heart like a knife. What father would be proud to claim a thief as his son? And that’s what Zach planned to become. An outlaw.

  “Don’t you think?” She tapped his shoulder.

  “About what?”

  “Your father, and how he must feel about you. I imagine if I had a son and he took a job in another city just to save our land, I’d be busting my buttons.”

  Zach coughed. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Sure. I’ve been thinking. I really don’t want to travel back to Phoenix alone, and I don’t want to rush you, so what would you say if I tried to get a job in Tombstone and earn some money? I’d much rather present myself to Aunt Susan with a little cash of my own rather than becoming an immediate burden to her.”

  Zach jerked his head around and glanced back at her. “What kind of job?”

  “I don’t know.” She nibbled her bottom lip and stared into the distance.

  “Surely you haven’t worked before… except maybe gatherin’ eggs and beatin’ the dust out of a rug or two.”

  Her body turned rigid against his. “Well, thank you for the vote of confidence.” Frost tinged her tone. “I’m sure I can find something. Perhaps working in the local mercantile, or maybe there’s a seamstress in need of someone who sews perfect buttons.”

  He faced front, cringing at the limited opportunities for a girl with her upbringing. Releasing a breath, he rearranged his thoughts. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelins’. I just—”

  She dropped her hands from around his waist. “Your meaning is quite obvious. You think I’m just a poor little farm girl who has no talents save the few chores I did around the house.”

  Boot leather was beginning to have a familiar taste from having his foot in his mouth so often. “Honest. I’m sorry, Odessa. Even if you’re mad, you’d best hang on so you don’t fall. We already know I’m not much good at doctorin’, and we’ve still a far piece to Tombstone.”

  Her arms crept back around his middle but she maintained distance between their bodies. Her silence spoke louder than any tongue-lashing she could give him.

  He yanked at the kerchief around his neck, praying for the right words. “Shoot, what I was trying to say, is Tombstone is a wild town. I’m not sure a genteel young woman like you would want to spend much time there. I’ve no doubt you have many talents.”

  She snuggled against him again, her fingers interlocking over his belt buckle. “There must be other civilized people in town.” Her warm breath assailed his neck and caused a tightening in his groin. “I’m quite used to seeing rowdy cowpokes get all liquored up at the local saloon. That’s one of the reason’s Pa wanted to leave Charleston.”

  Zach yanked at the fabric between his legs. He took a cleansing breath and glanced back at her. “Then that’s all the more reason to make your stay in Tombstone a short one.”

  Her lips pulled into a pout. Was he being too overbearing? He wasn’t her Pa, after all.

  “I say we wait and see what happens when we get there.”

  The authority in her voice stunned him. He nodded. Her proposal sounded like a fine solution to their disagreement. Once she viewed the lawless town, she would most likely be anxious to head for Phoenix.

  * * *

  Odessa’s inner thighs burned and her back ached from arching her arms around Zach for so long. She raised her cheek from his back and peered over his shoulder. Her lethargy turned to excitement. “What’s that ahead?” She pointed at a small building in the distance.

  “Stage stop. Figure we could spend the night, if they have room.” Zach lifted one hip from the saddle and stretched to the opposite side and groaned. “Is that all right with you?”

  “Anything to get off this horse. A bed of cactus sounds good about now.”

  “Something hot to eat would be nice, too.”

  “Oh, I’ll say. I can almost taste a hot biscuit and some jam.”

  Zach patted her knee. “I see smoke risin’ from the chimney, so someone must be cooking.”

  Odessa sighed. How wonderful to finally sit on something more comfortable than a horse’s rump—something unmoving and stable. Thoughts of cleaning the grit from her face in a cool bowl of water and enjoying a night’s rest indoors made her smile. She barely waited until Storm reached the hitching post before she slid to the ground. The cabin’s weathered exterior looked almost gray with age, and the wooden porch slats gaped beneath a single bench against the wall.

  Zach dismounted and flung the reins over the railing. “Hello inside.”

  No answer came and Odessa glanced around the dusty yard. Six horses meandered inside a large corral. Harnesses hung on the fence posts over a full water trough. Nearby, the doors of a small shed stood open, displaying hay bales, neatly stacked, one with a pitchfork protruding from it. The scene reminded her of home and her eyes hazed with tears.

  “Hello. Anyone home?” Zach called out again then stepped up on the plank porch.

  Fearing she looked a mess, Odessa smoothed her soiled dress and whisked her wayward hair behind her ears. “Maybe they’re hard of hearing. My Grandpa was.”
<
br />   Zach rapped on the door, and it came ajar. He flashed a raised brow at Odessa and grasped his holstered gun. “Don’t move,” he mouthed.

  With one swift kick, he sent the door crashing open, then waited for a reaction from within. When none came, he pulled his weapon and crept inside.

  Odessa held her breath, her hand at her bosom to quell her pounding heart. The eerie silence made the hair on her neck prickle. Where was Zach?

  She took a step toward the cabin as Zach appeared in the doorway. “Stop. There’s nothin’ in here you need to see.”

  “What do you mean? What happened?” She interlaced her nervous fingers.

  Zach holstered his gun and slowly shook his head. “They’re dead. All of them.”

  "Leave me alone and let me go to hell by my own route."- Calamity Jane

  Chapter Nine

  Odessa grasped her neck and swallowed hard. “Dead? How many?”

  Zach pulled the door closed. “Three. Two men and a woman. Looks like they never had a chance. Their plates haven’t been touched, the coffee pot is still warm, and….” His voice crackled and faded.

  She massaged the bridge of her nose. “Who would do such a horrible thing? And why?”

  “Stage coaches stop here throughout the day and night. Some carry money, and my guess is the second fellow inside rode in with some cash to be transported. The house has been ransacked, so maybe the killers found whatever they were lookin’ for.”

  “H-how did they die?” Odessa hated being morbidly curious, but the thought of three souls laying close by gnawed at her. “Did they suffer?”

  “It doesn’t appear so. All three were shot. One man and the woman at the table, and the other fella, near the fireplace.”

  Zach removed his hat and swiped his sleeve across his brow. He gazed at the animals in the corral. “I don’t think anyone will mind if we borrow a horse. If we don’t have to ride double, we can make better time to Tombstone. I’ll see if I can find a saddle in the shed.” He plopped his dusty Stetson back on his head and started across the yard.

  Odessa grabbed his arm. “We can’t just leave them here like this.”

  He stepped back and furrowed his brow. “Another stage will be by soon. Someone will tend to them. We best get goin’.”

  She pulled herself up to her full height and squared her shoulders. “I had to abandon Pa because I had no choice, but I’ll be dang if I’m gonna leave without giving these folks a proper burial. While you’re looking for that saddle, find a shovel or two. I’m going inside and prepare them to meet their maker.”

  Steeling herself with a deep breath, Odessa pushed open the door. Her churning stomach belied the strength she struggled to find. One man slumped at the table, his head in his plate and blood mingling with his uneaten eggs. The woman, she assumed was his wife, lay on the floor; her open eyes fixed in a vacant stare. A crimson stain colored the side of her face and gathered into a pool beneath her graying hair. Another man, as Zach said, had crumpled near the fireplace, his pipe still clutched in his hand. Odessa fought the urge to flee. The chore at hand wasn’t pleasant, but necessary. She recalled what to do from helping ready her grandmother for burial.

  The water bucket on the counter sat full. Odessa filled a nearby metal basin to the brim and snared the rag hanging on a hook beneath the window. Balancing the bowl, she crossed first to the lady and knelt. Pain gripped Odessa’s heart at seeing a half smile etched in death on the woman’s face. Probably fifty or so, she certainly deserved a better end to her life. Did she have children? Grandchildren? Who would let them know of their loss?

  Zach’s steps rumbled the floorboards. “Can I help?”

  “Yes, please. Can you put her husband here, next to her?”

  “Sure…but this makes me real nervous. If someone comes along, how are we gonna prove we didn’t kill these people?”

  She gave a dismissing wave. “If we’re the culprits, why would we take the time to bury them? It doesn’t make sense.”

  He nodded. “I reckon you’re right. These folks deserve a decent send off and it looks like we’re the ones to give it to them.”

  Odessa smiled. She’d expected to have to argue more, so his instant agreement came as a pleasant surprise.

  * * *

  Zach finished digging the third grave. Sweat trickled from his brow and burned his eyes. He removed his hat and fanned his face while trying to slow his heavy breathing. The strenuous shoveling proved he didn’t have the stamina he assumed he did. Grabbing a nearby canteen, he leaned on the shovel and took a long draw of water. He wanted to get this over with and move on before Odessa’s morals rubbed off on him and he changed his mind about heisting a stagecoach.

  For a young woman, her sense of responsibility amazed him. He would have easily mounted up and left the three dead people where he found them. If not for her decency, he’d be miles away by now. Shame crept over him like a morning fog. Pa had raised him to do the right thing, but somehow amidst the worry of losing the ranch, Zach had forgotten everything but getting to Tombstone.

  A glance around the desolate yard and hearing nothing but silence served as a reminder that death lurked on soundless feet. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, and he suddenly felt very alone. He dropped the shovel and stalked toward the cabin, grimacing at the thought of Odessa asking him to speak over the deceased.

  Zach stood in the open doorway. “I’m finished diggin’. Are you done?”

  She stood next to the bodies of the husband and wife and nodded. Faces of both had been washed, their hair combed and eyes closed in peaceful slumber. Their hands rested reverently on their chests. Across the room, the wound of the second man had been washed and his clothing tidied. His pipe protruded from his shirt pocket.

  Odessa massaged the nape of her neck. “There’s nothing more I can do.”

  “I’ll carry them out then.” Zach struggled to heft the man closest to the hearth onto his shoulder then made his way outside. Not yet stiff, the corpse bent with ease, but Zach felt the added weight. He returned shortly for the husband, and lastly, he cradled the woman in his arms and approached the open door.

  Preceding him, Odessa stopped at a small table next to a rocking chair, and picked up a worn Bible. “We’ll need this to read a Psalm for their souls.” She tucked it in the crook of her arm and led the way to the gravesite.

  Zach followed, wondering how the three had met their end. Clearly, they hadn’t been dead for very long.

  * * *

  Odessa stared down at the fresh dirt furrows and shook her head. “It’s a shame we didn’t know their names. We could have properly marked the graves.”

  “You’ve done far more than most folk would have in the same predicament. I especially thought the passage you chose from the Bible was right nice.”

  “The Twenty-third Psalm was my grandmother’s favorite. I’m glad you approved.”

  He cupped her elbow and walked with her back toward the house. “While you put away the Bible, I’ll saddle up another horse.”

  She gazed at the worn bookbinding. “I’m sure this has been in someone’s family for ages. I assume the man and woman at the table.” Halting, she snapped her fingers. “That’s it! I’ll bet their names are in the front of the Bible. Most everyone records their family history there.” She thumbed through the opening pages. “Here it is!”

  Zach rolled his eyes. “Surely, you don’t expect me to carve wooden markers for only two of the three. We have no idea who the second man was.”

  She dipped her chin and sighed. “I reckon you’re right. God’ll know them on sight anyhow.”

  * * *

  Having a saddled mount of her own felt much more enjoyable than rubbing against bristling horse hair. The brown mare seemed gentle enough and responded well to the reins, but Odessa missed the closeness she enjoyed while sharing Storm with Zach.

  After another night of camping under the stars, she hoped she’d see journey’s end before long. The sound of hoof b
eats on the worn trail created a lulling melody, and she fought to keep her eyes open. The silence between her and Zach had worn on too long. She straightened in the saddle and cleared her throat. “Are you sure we’ll get to Tombstone before evening?”

  He shrugged. “As sure as I can be. I’ve only been there once, and it was a long time ago. But, I’m sure we’ll get there by tomorrow at the latest.”

  Her spirits sagged. If she had to sleep one more night on desert ground, amidst scurrying animals and crawling bugs, she’d scream. She cast a wistful glance at him. “I’m hoping for tonight. If anyone could grant my fondest wish, it would be for a nice, soapy bath. I swear I’m wearing half of Arizona.”

  She turned her gaze back to the front and scanned the endless terrain of spiny shrubs, pebbled soil, and colorful mesas in the distance. Her image of a pleasing bath skidded to an unpleasant halt with the realization she had only the dirty clothes on her back. “Zach,” she broke the silence again. “I hate to ask, but might I borrow some money when we get there? I can’t very well seek employment dressed in these filthy rags. I promise I’ll pay you back every penny.”

  He nodded. “I don’t have much money on me, but I reckon I can afford a new dress.”

  “And some new undergarments and stockings? Pretty please.”

  “We’ll see… but first we have to get there.” He nudged Storm to a faster pace, stirring the dust and leaving her in his wake.

  She sputtered and coughed, swishing her hand back and forth in front of her face. “Oh, I’ll get you for that. As if I wasn’t dirty enough already.” She dug her heels into her mount and sped by, her hat flapping in the wind, its strap tight around her neck. “Beat you to Tombstone,” she called over her shoulder.