and opened the picnic basket. They sat side by side on it,
facing the puffy white clouds high overhead and the craggy chiseled blue-gray
mountains on the horizon. As they ate crispy fried chicken and pecan-raisin
pie, they told each other some of the more interesting gossip they had heard in
town. The lunch finished, McLowry rolled himself a cigarette.
He looked relaxed, and took a few slow drags of tobacco,
lost in contemplation. After a while, he said, "I think it’s time we move
on to Jackson City."
His abrupt statement caught her off guard. She had
imagined him restless earlier, but thought he had grown somewhat content with
his job and way of life here. "I can’t leave, yet. I’m close to finding
them. I can feel it. The only one who’s discouraging is the marshal. He said to
give up this pursuit; that no snippet of a girl is going to bring those men down.
He’s wrong. I’ll find Tanner and I’ll beat him."
"No, Gabe."
"I will!"
"Not Tanner."
She said nothing more, but leaned back on her elbows, her
head tilted so that the sun shone down on her face, her eyes shut. She hoped
the sun would take away the sudden chill she felt.
His voice was soft. "You’ve let too many people know
who you’re looking for. It’s not safe here for you."
She opened her eyes then, and half-turned in his
direction. "I didn’t let too many know. Just people who go to the livery
stable."
" All the people go to the livery stable.
Talking so freely is dangerous. Word will get back to Tanner, and to the
others. If they find you before you find them, they’ll kill you."
She sat upright once again, bending her knees and wrapping
her arms around them as she contemplated his words. She pulled at some dry
weeds that reached the edge of the blanket. "I try to hold my
tongue," she said softly, "but it flaps on. Hell, no one will tell me
anything, anyway. It makes me so angry!"
He crossed his legs Indian style and finished his
cigarette. "Could be they’re trying to protect you. You’re young--"
" Young? You, too, Jess?" Her hand paused
on a shoot of sage.
He ignored her question. "Somebody’s got to protect
you. You don’t seem to worry about yourself."
"I don’t need protection. I can get along just fine
without you, McLowry, if that’s what you’re wondering." She began to
stand, but he grabbed her wrist, stopping her, his eyes steady.
"You’ve just proven everything I said. You go running
off without a clue where you’re going, you tell the world what you’re planning,
and you’re too damned innocent to take proper care of yourself."
She yanked her hand free. "I’m not that innocent,
Jess, whether you want to believe it or not. I know enough about the world and
the people in it."
"I don’t think so," he said with a half-grin.
"I know plenty--including about men and women, so
don’t you go high-hatting me, Jess McLowry."
He seemed to regard her for a long time before he turned
away. She waited, but he wouldn’t meet her eye again. Some kind of discomfort
seemed to have built in him. A vein pulsated on his neck. With a sigh, she
folded her arms over her knees and stared off at the horizon.
"Hell, McLowry," she said finally. "Who am
I kidding? I know why no one takes me seriously, why you think I’m too young,
or too innocent, or whatever, despite my years."
He gave her a sidelong glance. "You do?"
"I do." She swallowed hard. "It’s that
I’m...different."
His brows rose. "You’re what ?"
"Different." She took a tremulous breath.
"I was four when my ma died and I grew up following my pa and brothers
around as if I were a boy, too. They treated me the same, and I learned I could
do everything they could except make proper use of the fly on my
trousers."
McLowry laughed out loud. It was a gruff sound, that of a
man not used to laughter, a sound that didn’t come easy and seemed to surprise
even him that it happened. She smiled, despite herself.
"See what I mean?" she asked with a wry lilt to
her voice.
facing the puffy white clouds high overhead and the craggy chiseled blue-gray
mountains on the horizon. As they ate crispy fried chicken and pecan-raisin
pie, they told each other some of the more interesting gossip they had heard in
town. The lunch finished, McLowry rolled himself a cigarette.
He looked relaxed, and took a few slow drags of tobacco,
lost in contemplation. After a while, he said, "I think it’s time we move
on to Jackson City."
His abrupt statement caught her off guard. She had
imagined him restless earlier, but thought he had grown somewhat content with
his job and way of life here. "I can’t leave, yet. I’m close to finding
them. I can feel it. The only one who’s discouraging is the marshal. He said to
give up this pursuit; that no snippet of a girl is going to bring those men down.
He’s wrong. I’ll find Tanner and I’ll beat him."
"No, Gabe."
"I will!"
"Not Tanner."
She said nothing more, but leaned back on her elbows, her
head tilted so that the sun shone down on her face, her eyes shut. She hoped
the sun would take away the sudden chill she felt.
His voice was soft. "You’ve let too many people know
who you’re looking for. It’s not safe here for you."
She opened her eyes then, and half-turned in his
direction. "I didn’t let too many know. Just people who go to the livery
stable."
" All the people go to the livery stable.
Talking so freely is dangerous. Word will get back to Tanner, and to the
others. If they find you before you find them, they’ll kill you."
She sat upright once again, bending her knees and wrapping
her arms around them as she contemplated his words. She pulled at some dry
weeds that reached the edge of the blanket. "I try to hold my
tongue," she said softly, "but it flaps on. Hell, no one will tell me
anything, anyway. It makes me so angry!"
He crossed his legs Indian style and finished his
cigarette. "Could be they’re trying to protect you. You’re young--"
" Young? You, too, Jess?" Her hand paused
on a shoot of sage.
He ignored her question. "Somebody’s got to protect
you. You don’t seem to worry about yourself."
"I don’t need protection. I can get along just fine
without you, McLowry, if that’s what you’re wondering." She began to
stand, but he grabbed her wrist, stopping her, his eyes steady.
"You’ve just proven everything I said. You go running
off without a clue where you’re going, you tell the world what you’re planning,
and you’re too damned innocent to take proper care of yourself."
She yanked her hand free. "I’m not that innocent,
Jess, whether you want to believe it or not. I know enough about the world and
the people in it."
"I don’t think so," he said with a half-grin.
"I know plenty--including about men and women, so
don’t you go high-hatting me, Jess McLowry."
He seemed to regard her for a long time before he turned
away. She waited, but he wouldn’t meet her eye again. Some kind of discomfort
seemed to have built in him. A vein pulsated on his neck. With a sigh, she
folded her arms over her knees and stared off at the horizon.
"Hell, McLowry," she said finally. "Who am
I kidding? I know why no one takes me seriously, why you think I’m too young,
or too innocent, or whatever, despite my years."
He gave her a sidelong glance. "You do?"
"I do." She swallowed hard. "It’s that
I’m...different."
His brows rose. "You’re what ?"
"Different." She took a tremulous breath.
"I was four when my ma died and I grew up following my pa and brothers
around as if I were a boy, too. They treated me the same, and I learned I could
do everything they could except make proper use of the fly on my
trousers."
McLowry laughed out loud. It was a gruff sound, that of a
man not used to laughter, a sound that didn’t come easy and seemed to surprise
even him that it happened. She smiled, despite herself.
"See what I mean?" she asked with a wry lilt to
her voice.
Similar Books
