Odessa

by Ginger Simpson

  “It’s your call. This horse means more to me than you do.”

  “I promise I won’t do anything so addlebrained again.” She clasped her hands beneath her chin and flashed a weak grin.

  “And why should I trust you?” He cocked his head, still holding the reins.

  “Because I give you my word, and my pa, may he rest in peace, taught me about honor.” She dropped her arms and squared her shoulders.

  “I guess you must have forgotten a few minutes ago, huh?” He patted Storm’s forehead. “But then, you don’t know anything about me, so I reckon I understand.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “I’ll be good. I swear on my momma’s grave. Papa’s too, if I knew for sure he had one.”

  The tone in her voice plucked at Zach’s heart. He recalled her mention of a wagon mishap. “Your Papa… he died recently?”

  Her lip quivered. “Yesterday, I think. I’ve lost all track of time. We were on our way to Phoenix when our wheel hit a rut…”

  “I’m sorry.” Beyond that he had no idea what to say. The awkward silence begged to be broken. “You look pale. Let’s go back inside so you can sit down.” He laughed. “Don’t know why I said inside. One wall and crumbled remains of three others don’t hardly make this rubble a house, now does it?”

  Leading his horse with one hand, he took Odessa’s arm with the other and led her back up the path of ankle-high scrub. “How’d you get out without me seein’ you?”

  She stiffened. “I watched and waited until you started back up this path then I crawled over the shortest wall and made my way to your horse.”

  “Pretty sneaky of you, but tonight, Storm’s sleepin’ with us so I can keep an eye on him… and you.” He dropped an eyelid in a wink. “Are you hungry?”

  “Starved.” She licked her dried lips then grimaced.

  “Well, you rest and I’ll whip us up some grub.”

  * * * *

  Stars sparkled overhead and a light breeze rustled the dried grass beyond the brick and mud walls. Shadows of a flickering fire danced on the adobe while the crackling flames devoured the last pieces of wood left behind by previous visitors. Odessa’s shoulders tensed at the idea of spending the night with a stranger, but she found him preferable to a snarling coyote. Besides, if he was going to force himself on her, he would have by now. He didn’t seem anything like the foul-smelling cowboys who drifted through Tucson with guns slung low on their hips. In fact, he didn’t wear one.

  Zach sat on the bench munching half of the last apple from Odessa’s stash while she leaned against the saddle he’d removed from Storm and enjoyed the other. She pulled the blanket around her legs, and drew her shoulders together with a shiver. “The temperature is colder tonight, don’t you think?”

  “I think you’re still suffering from being overcome by heat. Actually, the air is quite comfortable.” He stood and nudged the large wood pieces forward with the toe of his boot to refresh the waning fire. Flaming fingers came alive, seeming to follow the spiral of smoke climbing skyward. “There, that’ll help, at least for a while. I think we’re burning what’s left of someone’s table. ”

  Except for the hiss of the fire, silence overtook the night. Storm’s shuffling movement outside the perimeter, and the noisy chewing that ensued when he found a patch to eat, sounded occasionally. Odessa gazed around what remained of the building, trying not to admire Zach’s handsome profile. His sandy blond hair, still matted from his hat, didn’t mask the appeal of full lips and angular jaw. She whisked her focus back to him. “Who do you think lived here? And why?”

  “No telling. Could just be the remains of a way station or an old stage stop. They were quite plentiful until problems with the renegade Apaches from the San Carlos reservation scared folks away. But, I hear tell they’ve all been captured and sent away.” He spread his blanket along the wall, stretched out and folded his arms behind his head. He stared at the sky. “Sure are a lot of stars out tonight.”

  She looked up. “I’ll say. Like a beautiful blanket over an ugly ol’ bed. I’ve come to hate the desert. I wanna live where everything is pretty and green.”

  “Where’d you come from?”

  “Tucson.” She studied the twinkling sky, wondering if the star that sparkled brightest meant Papa found his way to heaven.

  “Isn’t that desert?” His voice summoned her attention.

  She caught his gaze. “I suppose you could call it that, but at least there are trees and flowers. It’s not all brown and lifeless looking like this place. What’s Phoenix like?”

  “Like most of Arizona Territory. Dusty and dry. The town is changing more every day, especially with the Maricopa-Phoenix Railroad starting up. The streets are lined with adobe buildings and wagonloads of new citizens to live and work in them. It’s gotten too crowded for my liking. I prefer wide open spaces.”

  “I’m not sure what I prefer any more. Papa and I were on our way to Phoenix for a new start before…” She swallowed her hurt. “My Aunt Susan lives somewhere close, and now I have to find her. She’s the only family I have left.”

  “The town isn’t so big that we can’t find someone who knows her. Maybe a banker or someone at one of the mercantiles.”

  “We? Does that mean you’re going to help me?” Her heart skipped a beat.

  “Well, I can’t very well leave you out here to die, can I?” He sighed.

  “I was hoping not.” She smiled, but his eyes were closed. Recollections of being in his arms earlier flashed in her mind and, for some confused reason, she wished he’d wrap them around her again. Snuggling down, she turned on her side and watched him.

  His chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm and his full lips slightly parted. Funny, she’d never noticed Papa’s denims fit like Zach’s, nor had his shirt strained against muscled arms. Of course Papa didn’t roll his sleeves up. She fanned her face with her hand and looked away. Maybe Zach was right. Surely, prolonged exposure to the sun was making her think such ridiculous thoughts. She barely knew anything about the man. She kicked away her blanket and reached for her canteen. What in the world was wrong with her?

  Odessa tensed. What if Zach waited for her to fall asleep so he could take advantage of her? Granny had warned of such men in the world—sweet talkers who only wanted to get into a lady’s bloomers. Odessa still wasn’t sure what the old woman had meant. She rarely explained herself. Willing her tired eyes to remain open, Odessa pondered how Zach would look in her undergarments.

  “The Seventh can handle anything it meets.” —General George A. Custer

  Chapter Four

  Odessa stared at the fire until only flickering embers remained. The half moon sat higher in the sky and highlighted the jagged adobe structure. Zach’s grating snores sliced through the silence and wore on her nerves, but despite Granny’s warning, Odessa welcomed sleeping in the safety of his company. If he had ill intentions, he would have made a move by now, she reckoned. Her sheltered life limited her experience with strangers. So far, he’d given her no pause to worry.

  His profile drew her attention, and even with his lips fluttering, she’d never known a man so handsome. Sleep softened the frown he wore when awake.

  She rose, opened her blanket fully and spread it back on the ground. Her body ached after being thrown from the wagon. The hip she’d landed on was bruised and tender. Her pain summoned memories of leaving Pa behind and hot tears returned. Images of his face played in her mind. She shook her head to clear them.

  Her mouth widened in a yawn. The day’s emotions had taken a toll, and she craved a good night’s sleep. Yet another of Zach’s snores rattled the night. She covered her ears and grimaced, then bent and adjusted his saddle at the top of her blanket. “If I can sleep through all this ruckus,” she mumbled.

  Perhaps she’d drift to a dream more pleasant than life had become.
Wincing in pain, she lowered herself atop one half of the blanket and pulled the other half over her.

  Sleep still eluded her. A cool wind drifted past the shortest wall and stalled against the tallest. She shivered at the drop in temperature, but preferred the chill to broiling in the sun. Her eyes focused on the twinkling stars overhead as the day replayed in her mind. Thank goodness Zach appeared when he had. She shuddered to think what might have happened to her. She cast a thankful glance at him and started when he flung an arm up over his face. For a moment, his snoring ceased, and everything fell quiet.

  The security she embraced dissolved with the howl of a coyote in the distance. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled. Zach didn’t stir. Neither her movement nor the disturbing yowl interfered with his slumber.

  “Hmm, maybe I’m not as safe as I thought.” She tensed and chewed her bottom lip.

  Her rifle lay next to his. She sat up, reached and moved the weapon closer to her bed then lay back, grumbling at using a saddle as a pillow. She yearned to sleep, but another lonely howl sent images of glaring yellow eyes invading her thoughts. Her heartbeat hitched, and she took a deep breath, wanting to wake Zach and have him assure her everything would be fine.

  Instead, she rolled to her side, pulled her weapon closer, and tugged the blanket tighter around her. She couldn’t become dependent on him. Although Zach said he’d see her to Phoenix, the loss of Papa so suddenly proved nothing was certain in life. Besides, Zach himself pointed out she knew nothing about him. Was he a man of his word?

  Fear outweighed exhaustion. She struggled to keep her eyes open, training them for any movement in the darkness. What she wouldn’t give for the safety of her home in Tucson and the familiar comfort of her downy featherbed. Oh, for the sounds of a rooster crowing outside her window, or her father’s booming laughter while they shared stories at supper. Those were sounds and feelings she’d never know again. Her tired eyes blurred with tears. She sniffed and swallowed the choking sorrow, then cocked her head and listened.

  The coyote serenade ceased, but silence didn’t mean one wasn’t lingering nearby. She kept one hand on the rifle stock and took a cleansing breath. Zach’s horse no longer moved about restlessly. A gentle breeze rustling through the weeds replaced the animal’s traipsing. If danger came, Storm would alert her. Surely, that’s why Zach slept so peacefully. She cast a glare at him, impatient with his ability to continue his infernal snoring. Only through his intermittent breaths was she able to hear anything else.

  With eyelids heavier than the fishing weights Papa had used, she found a comfortable position and heaved a relaxed sigh. At that moment, Zach released a booming blast of air—tooted, as Granny would say. Odessa covered her mouth and muffled a giggle. It felt good to laugh, even at his expense. Hearing him break wind made him seem more human. She snuggled down again and closed her eyes.

  * * * *

  Heat on her face woke Odessa. Sunlight glared past the break in the walls. She turned away and opened squinty eyes. She’d lived safely through the night. Her trust in Zach seemed appropriately placed.

  A pasty film coated her tongue and her lips felt more cracked than yesterday. Propped on her elbow, she reached for her canteen and swished warm water around in her mouth then swallowed. The sun’s position showed she’d slept longer than expected. Had Zach?

  His bedroll was empty. She jerked upright, her wild gaze searching for him. Storm wasn’t where he’d been tethered, either. Her heart hammered as she flailed about in the confines of her twisted skirt. Finally untangled, she stood. “That stinkin’ polecat left me.” She clenched her teeth. “I should have known I couldn’t trust him.”

  Her booted foot sent a small rock flying before she sank onto the bench and covered her face with her hands. “What am I gonna do now?” Tears welled again.

  She bolted to her feet. “I will not cry. I was on my own yesterday and today will be no different. I owe it to Papa to survive.”

  According to Zach, he’d left Phoenix early yesterday morning. By her calculation, she wasn’t that far from civilization. Of course, traveling on foot would be slower, but she still had a whole canteen of water and part of another.

  “Oh, just my luck.” She slapped her forehead. They’d eaten all her food. But she could live a day or two without any. Couldn’t she? Her stomach rumbled in protest, but she gave it a reassuring pat.

  “Granny always said when I set my jaw, I can do anything.” Odessa clamped her teeth tight and steeled herself for whatever lay ahead. Who needed some half-witted cowpoke to rescue her anyhow? She folded her blanket, shaking her head that the coward had left without even saying goodbye or wishing her well on her journey. Anger heated her blood, but try as she might, she couldn’t erase his handsome face from her mind… or forget those sky blue eyes. “Ohhh, men. Worse than warts.” She gathered her canteens and rifle. “Who needs ’em?”

  “Where’re ya goin’?” With one flaxen brow arched, Zach sat astride Storm. A dead jackrabbit dangled from the saddle horn.

  Relief flooded through her. It took a moment to find her voice. “Where’ve you been?”

  “I figured you needed your sleep, so I rode down the trail a bit to find some fresh meat to go with my biscuits. I hope my rifle shot wasn’t what woke you.” His gaze rested on her bundle and his brow rose. He grinned. “You didn’t think I left you, did you?”

  She crossed her arms and feigned an indignant stance. “Of course not. I-I was just getting things ready.”

  He dismounted and wrapped Storm’s reins around a low-growing bush. “I figured we could burn the bench and cook this here rabbit, then get started. I need to get you to Phoenix and your Aunt Sue so I can get back on the trail.”

  “Am I keeping you from something important?” She didn’t want him to feel obligated to stick around. But, in the back of her mind, she prayed he would.

  His throat wobbled with a hard swallow before he turned his back to her. “Nah, nothin’ that won’t wait.” He held the weathered bench upright and pushed, pulled and kicked the wood into pieces. Within a few minutes, he had a fire going. “We’d best hurry so we can get moving.”

  The discomfort he displayed at her question, the way he avoided her eyes bothered her. He wasn’t telling her something, and she was determined to find out what. “So where are you headed?”

  “To take a job.”

  “You certainly are a man of few words.” The questions she longed to ask last night now lined up in her mind like bullets waiting to riddle him. “Tell me about your home in Phoenix… and your folks.” The mere mention of family caused a lump in her throat.

  “It’s only me and my pa. Ma died a few years back from consumption. I…still miss her smile.” He spread his kill across his knees.

  Odessa sat on her blanket and fidgeted with her skirt while he skinned the rabbit. The sounds of ripping fur made her squirm, and she stared into her lap.

  “Are you all right?” Zach asked.

  She looked up and made a face. “I’m a pretty good cook, but I’ve never been much for handling dead things. My grandma used to get angry when I refused to wring a chicken’s neck. She’d pick out the fattest hen for dinner and expect me to kill it.”

  “I imagine the way they flopped around afterwards was what bothered you most.” He laughed.

  “It was.” She shuddered. “I just couldn’t get used to snapping their necks with the flick of my wrist. Granny was really good at it.”

  “She probably had lots of practice.” Zach grinned then wiped his blade on his pant leg and started to cut the cleaned carcass into pieces. He stopped with his knife midair and looked up at her. “I’m not partial to killing things either, but when my choices are eating or starving, I do what needs to be done.”

  She smiled and nodded. “I reckon I’d rather eat if given the preference. I always counted on Pa to do
the killing and skinning. I’m a pretty fast plucker though.”

  Her bottom numbed. She shifted her weight to one side and drew her leg up under her. “Do you and your father live in town?” Getting anything out of this man was like pulling a tooth.

  “No, on the outskirts. Our ranch is close to twenty-five acres of flat land backed up to a mesa. We have a few head of cattle and hope to get more, but…” His jaw tensed into a rigid line.

  “But what?”

  “You’re a nosy little thing, aren’t you?” He grinned. The firelight dancing in his eyes set her stomach aflutter.

  She squared her shoulders. “Granny called my curiosity being inquisitive. She always said I was more social than any young ’un she’d ever seen.” Odessa lifted her chin. “I don’t mean to pry. If you don’t want to answer, just say so.”

  “Inquisitive? There’s a polite term if ever I heard one. Well, Miss Curiosity, I stopped short of cussing in front of you. My pa is having problems with meeting the bank note, and I’m off to earn some money to save our land.”

  She lowered her gaze, her cheeks heating. “I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t mean to dredge up an unpleasant topic. I-I only wanted to get to know you a little better.”

  “No need to apologize. It’s not your fault the varmints who run the bank in Phoenix ain’t interested in helping a body out when they need a hand up.”

  “So… why didn’t you find work in Phoenix? Is there none to be had?”

  His eyes widened and he cleared his throat. “None that fit my needs. I need a quick way to earn a lot of money.”

  “And what will you… Ouch!” She whipped her dress and petticoats aside and grabbed her calf. “Something bit me.” She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

  Zach dropped the rabbit’s hindquarter in the dirt and, still on his knees, scrambled to her side. “Let’s see.” He pried her hand away.

  “Oh, good heavens! Look.” Odessa pointed to a scorpion skittering across the dirt. With its curved tail held high, the critter disappeared into the brush. She clutched her bosom. “I know some can kill a person. Am I gonna die?”