Follow The Wind

by Janelle Taylor

  At Jessie’s laughter and grin, Navarro asked, “How? They’re masters of trickery. Gifts are fine, but once they’re used up, they’re forgotten. Just like a man is once he’s served his usefulness to them. They live for robbing and killing; it’s in their blood and upbringing. If they even suspect an enemy has a weakness, he’s attacked. I’ve roamed enough to know you never let your guard down for a moment—like I stupidly did several times since I hooked up with you.”

  To stop him thinking about that brief weakness and to learn more, she asked, “What do you mean? They never tricked us or attacked us. Maybe because they believed Papa possessed magical powers.”

  “An Apache never attacks unless he’s sure he’ll win and without suffering losses. Each man is free to do as he pleases. They only choose a chief for a short time to lead a certain raid or battle, then he’s a regular warrior again. If travelers or soldiers don’t stay on alert and appear well armed—like your papa’s group must have been—they’re attacked without mercy. Once you enter Apache territory, you’re spied on all the time. You never see them until it’s too late. They watch everything and everyone. They’re very patient and cunning. When they bite into a prize, they won’t let go until death, like the badger. They learn how many men you have, what arms, what belongings, and your schedule. If you reveal strength and care, you’re safe, even if they outnumber you. An Apache never takes a risk of defeat. If the plunder and odds are to his liking, you’ll never survive his assault, even ten to one. Cheis, the one whites call Cochise, was a master of such strategy.”

  “Perhaps that’s why they respected Papa so much,” Jessie confessed. “He used deceit numerous times. Maybe they feared to harm him, for they are superstitious. He’s told me stories many times about those days.”

  Jessie raised her knees and locked her arms around them. “He used a magnifying glass to show them how it could enlarge objects. He made fires by calling down the sun’s power through a burning-glass. He also used safety matches, ‘spirit sticks’ they called them, to light fires. He pulled tricks with gunpowder inside gourds, and with magnets and a compass. He let them look through his fieldglasses, and that was big magic. It even frightened some of them.”

  Jessie grinned in amusement as she imagined such a scene. “One time he placed a white flower in his inkwell and let it turn black without dying. They couldn’t believe a man could change nature’s colors. He made them think his coat was powerful enough to defeat rain, but it was just an ordinary slicker. Papa always asked questions and listened, treated them with respect, and enticed them to show him their skills. He was good at sleight-of-hand; he made them think he could pull a coin or bullet from behind their ears. That amazed and frightened them. They believed he was a medicine man of great power and cunning. He gave the five leaders special gifts before he left, mostly the so-called magic items. He gave his metal hatchet and such to other important warriors. He knew he could replace them in El Paso, and he wanted these men on his side for the time he returned to settle there. He presented Gomez with a horse—they view horses like we do money. The leaders gave Papa a necklace with each one’s mark on it. They said it would protect him from all Apaches. It did; not even renegades raided us. When the Indians rode in our area, they never harmed anyone or any animal with the Box L mark on it.”

  “That’s amazing, Jessie. He must be a very clever man to outsmart them. He was wise to use his wits instead of strength to win their favor. They’re taught to hate all races, especially the whites and Mexicans. They’re raised from birth to see everyone not Apache as the enemy. It’s easy to understand, since the Mexicans paid bounties for Apache scalps of any age and sex and the whites stole their favorite lands and made truce with the Mexicans. Farther west, grass and water are prized areas; those are the ones the whites stole from the Indian. Do you know that bad behavior in children is controlled by threatening them with the names of white men, like your bogeyman serves to frighten white children?”

  “I’ve never heard that before. You’ve learned a lot during your travels, Navarro. I’ve never been many places or met many people. It must be exciting to see and do such things, to be totally free.”

  “A man can’t always go where he pleases or do anything he wants.”

  Jessie noticed the bitterness in his tone. “Where are you from?” she asked.

  “Here and there, everywhere and nowhere. I stay on the move.”

  “You don’t have any place to call home?” she asked carefully.

  “Nope. No home and no family. Just me and my itchy feet.”

  Without thought or hesitation, Jessie made an offer to the desolate man. “You can stay at the ranch as long as you like, Navarro. Our hands think of it as their home and us as their family. Most of them have been with us for years. It must be tiring and lonely not to have anyone or any place special.”

  “I’ve never noticed,” he alleged, trying to sound harder than he felt at that moment with her gazing at him with those soft blue eyes and radiant face.

  “Everybody searches for love, peace, and happiness in their own way, Navarro. Maybe that’s what you’ve been doing all these years. Maybe you’ll like the ranch and boys so much that you’ll stay.”

  “Nope. I get nervous when I hang around the same place and people too long.”

  “Maybe you’ve been hanging around the wrong kinds too long,” Jessie teased.

  “I won’t argue that truth, woman. But a man don’t change easily.”

  “I’m sure of that. I live around fifteen to thirty men all the time. I know how stubborn you men are about changes of any kind or size. It’s like a war.”

  “We have too few things in our lives that remain the same, Jessie, or too few things in our control. We like things that are familiar and easy. That way, we don’t have to stay on edge or get into trouble so much.”

  “Little corners of peace in a room full of trouble and darkness?”

  He mused a moment, then remarked, “That’s a wise saying.”

  “Gran says it to us when we have problems. She says there are always bright places where we can find peace and safety in this large world of peril and sadness.”

  “Who is Gran?”

  “My grandmother, Papa’s mother. She’s getting old, but she’s a wonder. She’s gentle and wise. After Papa, she rules our house.”

  Navarro studied the woman before him. Tough but gentle, he thought. Could she and the ranch be his little corners of peace during his time of trouble and darkness? He had known and enjoyed few bright places in his life. Maybe it was reckless to enter this one. He could be lulled into dropping his guard. Jessie had a power about her that was magical and intimidating. Maybe he would start wanting this woman and her peaceful surroundings too much, and he knew he couldn’t have them.

  “Navarro? Are you feeling all right? You look so strange. Maybe I should check your wound again.” Jessie moved to her knees, closer to him.

  Navarro held himself still and silent as she unwrapped the bandage and studied the bruised and torn area. He wanted this contact with her. Her touch was gentle. He closed his eyes and envisioned her as she worked on his pliant body. He heard her reach for her saddlebag. She smelled fresh and clean, and he knew she had changed her clothes during the night. He noticed her garments now fit snugger than before. He felt her fingers pressing the jagged edges into place for healing. Carefully she smeared medicine on the throbbing location, then rebound his head.

  The redhead rested her buttocks on her bare heels and gazed at him. He almost appeared to be dozing. Her bold study of him last night surfaced in her mind to enflame her. For some ridiculous reason, she trembled. She felt as if she were near a roaring fire. Her knees were touching his hip, and the area was warm. She couldn’t understand how her clothed flesh against his clothed flesh caused such tingles and excitement to race through her. She knew she should move away, but she didn’t want to. Jessie told herself how crazy and dangerous such behavior was. “Is that better?” she finally asked.r />
  Navarro opened those engulfing hazel eyes. “Yep.”

  As Jessie started to move away, the gunslinger captured her hands and lifted them in front of his face. Jessie watched him as he looked at her hands.

  “Working hands. Gentle and kind ones,” he murmured. “Thanks, Jessie,” he added, then released them as swiftly as if they suddenly had burst into flames.

  Jessie felt tense in this unfamiliar situation of being alone with an irresistible man. Their contact caused strange and powerful emotions to surge through her. Gran had always told her that it was dangerous to tempt a man with something he couldn’t have. She knew little about this mysterious stranger’s character and nothing about his background. Navarro could be dangerous. Yet the kind of peril she sensed had nothing to do with her physical well-being. It felt as if she were quivering from head to foot, as if her body were suspended over smoldering embers. She didn’t know what to say or how to behave. From his expression, neither did Navarro. Yet they seemed to have matching needs, troubles, and hungers that drew them to each other.

  Jessie could not blame the man for being aroused by the situation. They were adults. They were alone in what seemed more like a romantic setting than a desert wilderness. Though she knew she wasn’t beautiful—even though he had said she was—she was pretty. No matter if she was dressed as a man, she was shaped like a woman. Gran had told her that sometimes it took very little to stimulate some men’s passions to a hazardous peak. She wondered if Navarro found her desirable, then scolded herself for even thinking such a wicked thought.

  Navarro broke into her mental dilemma. “Do I make you nervous, Jessie?” he asked. “Are you afraid of me? There’s no need.”

  In a hoarse tone, she answered, “I’m not scared of you, Navarro. I’m just tired. These last few days have been very difficult for me.” Rising, she added, “I’d better get these chores done so…so we’ll be ready to move out if trouble strikes.” Jessie pulled on her boots. She began to gather and wash the dishes in the river.

  Navarro watched her intently. Unless he was mistaken, she had lied to him for the first time. He did make her nervous, just as she made him nervous. Even if for the same reason, he shouldn’t do anything about it. Jessica Lane was a special woman. He liked how she made him feel like a special person, too. Crazy and impulsive though it might be, he wanted to be around her longer, and knew he couldn’t if he took advantage of her.

  That thought surprised him because he had been raised by his outlaw father and his mother’s Apache people to take what he wanted and when he wanted it. And he did want Jessica Lane. He wanted her more than any woman he had ever met, almost more than anything in his life. He didn’t know about the white man’s ways of courting, but he did know that any decent man wouldn’t toss her on the bedroll and take her by force or try to persuade her to yield to him using deceit in order to win his help, which she so desperately needed.

  Maybe he could trick her into surrendering to him, but it would be wrong. That word thundered through his keen mind. Wrong? He had been taught by both sides of his family that doing wrong was the best way for a man to behave. To be successful at it was the highest honor a man could achieve. Still, Navarro could not seem to accept or believe that. Maybe that was why he had never fit in on either side, though he had broken laws in both the red man’s and white man’s worlds, laws that made him an outcast and a wanted man. What did it matter to anyone, he fumed, that he had been forced to do so to survive?

  Jessie completed her task and wondered what else to do to fill her time, thoughts, and energies. She wished they were on the trail homeward. Without a doubt, this was going to be a long and difficult afternoon in camp. She didn’t even want to imagine the night ahead, alone under the crescent moon with him.

  Chapter Four

  Navarro pretended to nap with his head on his new saddle. He felt as if he had talked too freely with Jessie. He worried over the way she drew him out so easily, as deftly as a sharp knife working on a hide. But that was the center of it: she was easygoing and straightforward, and he hadn’t been around many people like her. She had a way of making him tense at times, and totally relaxing him at others. The redhead was beautiful and desirable, but those weren’t her main attractions; her inner beauty was that. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be around her for a long time or how it would affect him. He knew he couldn’t ever lower his guard completely, and she was smart enough to realize he was holding back emotionally and keeping secrets. When a person didn’t know something, they always suspected the worst. Navarro was annoyed with himself for revealing his knowledge of the Apaches, and wondered if she suspected the truth of his shameful birth. If other people could look at him and tell he was a half-breed, she could, too. So why didn’t it matter to her? Most didn’t want breeds around. Shu. Even his name branded him as the “entrails of the earth.” Maybe he should change it, as his parents were never married; Carl Breed didn’t think it was necessary to wed his Apache squaw, even after she bore him an unwanted son. The desperado knew he had to set some rules with Jessie; privacy was a must. Yet it was going to be hard to back off even a few steps. And for once, he didn’t want to retreat.

  Jessie sensed that Navarro was awake and deep in thought. As she filled the canteens, she reflected on what little she had learned about him. She tried to grasp hints from his past words and expressions. She couldn’t forget what he had said just before their attack by the Adams brothers. What had created such bitterness, such an empty feeling of nobody loving or needing him? Something terrible had caused him to harden his heart, or to try to deaden it. Yet he seemed so forlorn and vulnerable, so hungry for affection, attention, and respect. He seemed so confused, so alone. Whether he knew it or not, Navarro needed to be needed. And she needed him.

  Jessie wondered why he appeared poor, why he couldn’t afford a new. horse and saddle. His hands were calloused from hard labor, so why didn’t he have money? His clothes were decent, his hair recently cut, and his weapons were new. Yet his pouches were so small to carry all his worldly possessions. She wished she had looked inside his saddlebags while he was unconscious, but snooping went against her upbringing.

  Before it was time to begin their evening meal, she took a walk, being careful on the rocky terrain.

  When she returned to their campsite, Navarro was gone. She listened, but heard nothing. She glanced around, but saw nothing. She knew he hadn’t left, because the sorrel and his possessions were still there.

  Jessie walked to the paint, who was grazing leisurely near the riverbank. She stroked the black-and-white stallion’s neck, then hugged him. As he nuzzled his head against her shoulder, she whispered, “Can we trust him, Ben? A man like him can be unpredictable. Why in blazes does he make me feel so—”

  Navarro came into sight not far away, and she fell silent. She watched him walk toward her, his gaze locked to her face. Those crazy tingles and hot flushes troubled her again. She focused her attention on her mottled horse.

  Navarro joined her on the other side of the animal. “Does he bite?”

  Jessie continued to stroke the loyal steed. “Not usually, but he isn’t around strangers very much. He’s very protective of me and won’t let anyone ride him except me. Ben has a keen nose, so he’ll warn us if danger approaches.”

  Navarro noticed the quavering in her voice. “He’s good horseflesh. So is that sorrel. You sure your father won’t beat you for giving him away?”

  If Navarro’s last sentence was meant as a joke, it didn’t sound like it. “Certainly not. Papa lets me do what I think is best most of the time. He’ll probably say the horse isn’t reward enough for saving me twice. Papa never whips us, though I think he’s tempted to do so these days with my younger sister. She can be unbearable at times. She’s very beautiful and educated, but she’s so spoiled and defiant.” Jessie sighed in dismay as her rebellious sister came to mind. She wondered what Mary Louise would think of the handsome and mysterious Navarro, and what he would th
ink of her beautiful sister. Jessie glanced down at her male attire, then envisioned her sister’s lovely dresses and ladylike ways. How could she compete with such beauty for Navarro’s eye? Her gaze locked with his watchful one again. She blushed at the line of her thoughts. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that about her. It’s just that she’s been giving Papa such a hard time since she returned from school back East.”

  Vexed by the ridiculous jealousy and rivalry for this hired help, she pushed aside worries about Mary Louise. “Papa bred both horses. Carlos helped me break him. Of course Ben allowed me to tame him. He’s one of those wild creatures who must be willing to change before he’ll yield.”

  Jessie’s blue gaze fused with Navarro’s hazel one over Ben’s splotched back. The closer they were to each other, the more the curious tension between them mounted. The gunman’s hand slowly drifted over hers where it rested on Ben’s withers, as if he hadn’t noticed it there while stroking the animal. They stared at each other for a few minutes before both simultaneously looked away.

  He wondered if her last sentence held a dual meaning, one about him. “A loyal horse is important. He can save your hide. A bad one can make you lose it.”

  As his gentle touch won over Ben, Jessie asked, “Are you angry I released your horse? I had no right to free him without permission. I was rushed and distracted.”

  “He was old and tired, Jessie. I only had him a short while, so we weren’t old friends. My regular horse was stolen a while back, and he was the only one available at the time.” He gazed off into the distance and inhaled deeply. It was crazy how lying to her made him feel bad. “I really couldn’t afford a new one. I haven’t worked in a while. Been moving around. That’s why I decided to take your offer. The money, that sorrel and saddle, and creature comfort sound mighty appealing.”