man what’s got his tail in a crack. He never did have no use fer Luis, ’cause his ma was a Mexican, but after him ’n’ Burr took off his foot t’keep the ol’ fool from dyin’, he ain’t got no use fer nobody. Luis keeps the ranch supplied with horseflesh ’n’ Burr does the ramroddin’.”
“Are you saying that Burr is Mr. Macklin’s son, too?” Johanna asked.
“Yup. You’ll know soon’s you clap eyes on him. Spittin’ image of the ol’ man.”
“And,” she went on, although she hesitated to ask, “Mr. Macklin didn’t marry his mother, either?”
“Nope. Said he never married.”
“I don’t think I’m going to like Mr. Macklin very much.”
“It ain’t all that bad. Don’t seem to set very heavy on Burr. Luis is a mite shy, but could be his nature. The only thin’ ’bout it is . . . nobody goes ’round callin’ nobody a bastard. It just ain’t done in Macklin Valley. Course, now, the ol’ man—he ain’t got no sense atall when he’s riled, and that’s the first thin’ he says. Don’t bother the boys none, leastways they don’t let on.”
Johanna was convinced by now that she would not like Mack Macklin and she told Mooney as much.
“Never figured ya’d take to him. Ya thinkin’ a goin’ back?”
“I need this job, Mooney,” she answered slowly and sincerely. “I’ll work for Mr. Macklin, but I’ll not tolerate any abuse of Jacy because of her mixed blood.” Johanna lifted her head, and the defiant look in her eyes brought a chuckle from Mooney.
“Glad to hear it.” He punctuated the statement by spitting a long stream of tobacco juice into the dust. “You’ll need spunk to stand up to the ol’ man.”
Johanna had much to think about as the hot afternoon wore on. They crossed a virtual desert and overhead the inevitable buzzard soared with that timeless patience that comes from knowing that sooner or later all things that live in the desert become food, and he had only to wait. Despite the heat, a roadrunner poised beside the trail and flicked his long tail and took off, running on swift feet along in front of the wagon. A tiny lizard, its little throat pulsing with the excitment of seeing the train go by, raced across a hot rock and paused in the shade. These things that would have been interesting to Johanna passed unnoticed, as absorbed as she was in her thoughts.
* * *
That night they made camp in a narrow, oddly shaped arroyo. It was an easy place to defend, Mooney explained. This was Apache land.
“Nope,” he said, when asked if they expected an attack. “But where ’paches is concerned they don’t never do what you think they’re goin’ to.”
The wagons were drawn in a tighter circle and the horses staked out closer to the camp than on previous nights. The cook prepared the pinto beans and chilies quickly so that the fire could die down sooner. There was a feeling of tension in the camp, although the sisters seemed not to notice it. They excused themselves as soon as they finished their meal and went to bed.
In the privacy of their wagon Johanna told Jacy all the information Mooney had given her about the Macklins. Jacy’s interest centered around Luis, and she pressed Johanna for any details she could remember from her conversation with Mooney.
“I’ve told you everything I know, Jacy.”
“Don’t you think he’s handsome?”
“Yes, dear, I do,” Johanna said after a short pause. “He’s very handsome, and brave, too. Facing two armed men takes exceptional courage, but . . . we don’t know anything about him except that he’s Mr. Macklin’s son. He may be a gunman for all we know.”
“He isn’t anything bad, Johanna. I know that. I think he’s been alone a lot and he’s shy. He didn’t say a word to me when he came for the mare. He just looked into my eyes the way he did before, untied the horse, and went away.”
The sound of running hooves broke the stillness of the night. Johanna lifted the
“Are you saying that Burr is Mr. Macklin’s son, too?” Johanna asked.
“Yup. You’ll know soon’s you clap eyes on him. Spittin’ image of the ol’ man.”
“And,” she went on, although she hesitated to ask, “Mr. Macklin didn’t marry his mother, either?”
“Nope. Said he never married.”
“I don’t think I’m going to like Mr. Macklin very much.”
“It ain’t all that bad. Don’t seem to set very heavy on Burr. Luis is a mite shy, but could be his nature. The only thin’ ’bout it is . . . nobody goes ’round callin’ nobody a bastard. It just ain’t done in Macklin Valley. Course, now, the ol’ man—he ain’t got no sense atall when he’s riled, and that’s the first thin’ he says. Don’t bother the boys none, leastways they don’t let on.”
Johanna was convinced by now that she would not like Mack Macklin and she told Mooney as much.
“Never figured ya’d take to him. Ya thinkin’ a goin’ back?”
“I need this job, Mooney,” she answered slowly and sincerely. “I’ll work for Mr. Macklin, but I’ll not tolerate any abuse of Jacy because of her mixed blood.” Johanna lifted her head, and the defiant look in her eyes brought a chuckle from Mooney.
“Glad to hear it.” He punctuated the statement by spitting a long stream of tobacco juice into the dust. “You’ll need spunk to stand up to the ol’ man.”
Johanna had much to think about as the hot afternoon wore on. They crossed a virtual desert and overhead the inevitable buzzard soared with that timeless patience that comes from knowing that sooner or later all things that live in the desert become food, and he had only to wait. Despite the heat, a roadrunner poised beside the trail and flicked his long tail and took off, running on swift feet along in front of the wagon. A tiny lizard, its little throat pulsing with the excitment of seeing the train go by, raced across a hot rock and paused in the shade. These things that would have been interesting to Johanna passed unnoticed, as absorbed as she was in her thoughts.
* * *
That night they made camp in a narrow, oddly shaped arroyo. It was an easy place to defend, Mooney explained. This was Apache land.
“Nope,” he said, when asked if they expected an attack. “But where ’paches is concerned they don’t never do what you think they’re goin’ to.”
The wagons were drawn in a tighter circle and the horses staked out closer to the camp than on previous nights. The cook prepared the pinto beans and chilies quickly so that the fire could die down sooner. There was a feeling of tension in the camp, although the sisters seemed not to notice it. They excused themselves as soon as they finished their meal and went to bed.
In the privacy of their wagon Johanna told Jacy all the information Mooney had given her about the Macklins. Jacy’s interest centered around Luis, and she pressed Johanna for any details she could remember from her conversation with Mooney.
“I’ve told you everything I know, Jacy.”
“Don’t you think he’s handsome?”
“Yes, dear, I do,” Johanna said after a short pause. “He’s very handsome, and brave, too. Facing two armed men takes exceptional courage, but . . . we don’t know anything about him except that he’s Mr. Macklin’s son. He may be a gunman for all we know.”
“He isn’t anything bad, Johanna. I know that. I think he’s been alone a lot and he’s shy. He didn’t say a word to me when he came for the mare. He just looked into my eyes the way he did before, untied the horse, and went away.”
The sound of running hooves broke the stillness of the night. Johanna lifted the
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