Chase The Wind Page 5

  Chapter Three

  Tuesday, Navarro took Beth to a cantina for supper where she made several discoveries about him. First, she was surprised when he ordered and chatted with ease in fluent Spanish with the owner, a burly Mexican with a jocular personality. During her last two assignments, she had picked up a handful of Spanish words and sentences though not enough to be of assistance to her in future work. But she was proficient in French and had used it in a past case, the only time those lessons had come in handy.

  As she observed him, she realized he knew at least three languages: English, Spanish, and Apache. You’re fascinating, enigmatic, and intelligent, partner. She couldn’t help but wonder which was his native tongue, what his parents’ nationality was, where and how he’d been reared, and how he’d become a lawman. Would he, she mused, share those facts or bar her from his personal life and stick to their ruse in public and private?

  As they ate, Beth glanced around the large room that was lighted by many windows and lamps attached to adobe walls and suspended from a saguaro-beam ceiling. The atmosphere was gay with music, laughter, and conversations. Decorations were numerous and colorful: sombreros, multistriped blankets with white fringes, paper flowers of various colors, and chili ristras. On one wall, there was a bull-fighting display: a flowing red cape, montera, banderillas, and pike poles. The dishes were excellent, hers not as hot and spicy as those he ordered and appeared to savor. The owner and waiters were friendly. The presence of people she knew or recognized compelled them to play their roles the entire time. In the adjoining social room, men sat at tables—drinking, talking, nibbling, and playing cards.

  Things went fine until two dusty and scowling drifters entered the door, went straight to that room, and soon became rowdy. The newcomers were rude to the owner when he greeted them. It was obvious to everyone that they didn’t like Mexicans, so she wondered why they’d chosen to eat there. Each time the pretty senorita served them a drink or snack, as they seemed in no hurry to order meals, the ruffians made lewd remarks and forced her to evade their groping hands, a vile game they found amusing.

  Beth was aware her companion had come to full alert and was riled by the goings-on. She couldn’t fathom a reason, but there must be a good one, as men like Navarro—loners or agents—minded their own business. Though she was gifted at reading people’s moods, it was a difficult task with this man before her. Nevertheless, she perceived a stiffening, an on-guard, simmering reaction in her companion. His eyes darkened with an emotional turmoil which even his feigned smiles didn’t soften. His prominent jawline was taut, and his brows were lowered slightly. His elbows were propped on the table with fingers interlocked and thumbs raised and touching. A few times, she saw those thumbs press together as if battling to overpower the other. To most, he probably looked unmoved by the nasty scene; to her, he seemed ready to spring into action if trouble started, which appeared likely. She didn’t want anything to happen that would call attention to Navarro’s alleged talents with guns. Yet, she experienced a tiny desire to see Navarro in action. Her apprehension mounted as the situation worsened, and Navarro’s gaze narrowed. She could almost feel an actual chill exuding from him, and goosebumps covered her body.

  The episode sent Navarro’s mind to painful days in the past when his outlaw father had forced his mother to work under similar or worse conditions when Carl needed money and had to lay low. If nice people thought it was difficult for a señorita to deal with such vile talk and conduct, he raged, they should witness what it was like for a beautiful and gentle “squaw.” Despite insults and fondlings and his mother’s pleas to avoid them, Carl had sent her into such situations over and over until Navarro had wanted, even as a boy, to kill his own father to halt those cruelties. His gaze settled on his partner and he saw how alert and worried she was. He assumed it was because she feared a lethal confrontation was ahead and she didn’t want to be caught in the line of fire. “We’d better go, Beth, before things get rougher and I’m forced to take care of Manuel’s problem in there. If I did, it could cause problems for us.”

  “I think you’re right,” she whispered in return. “I was about to make the same suggestion because I can tell it’s bothering you not to help him.”

  Navarro mentally shook off his tension, and put on a smile to calm her. “I must be slipping today if somebody can read me like tracks on soft ground. Either you’re skilled at such things or your good company had me too relaxed.”

  Before she could respond, he stood and rounded the table to assist with her chair. As he was doing so, Manuel came forward to thank them, to encourage another visit, and to promise a quieter evening.

  “Best send for the law, amigo, before things get worse. Those hombres want to chew on trouble, not comida.”

  “Maria sneaked out the back to bring the sheriff or a deputy.”

  “Bueno. Adios, amigo, hasta la vista.”

  Help did not arrive soon enough to halt what happened. As they were leaving, Beth- was shoved aside by a troublemaker as one of the drifters and another customer made their way outdoors and into the dry street. Navarro grabbed her arm and steadied her, for which she sent him a smile of gratitude. When he looked as if he was about to go after the ruffian, she shook her head and said, “I’m fine; let it pass.” He nodded.

  Almost everyone left their tables and rushed onto the planked walk as if eager to witness what was about to occur. Beth said for those around them to overhear, “Heavens, they’re going to have a shoot-out.”

  “Don’t worry none, Miz Lawrence,” a man who knew her from the land office coaxed. “Caleb’s better with his guns than an Apache with a skinnin’ knife. He’ll put a fast end to them saddletramps.”

  “But it’s so uncivilized.” She widened her gaze and feigned dismay.

  “I know, ma’am, but it’s the way out here, law or no law. Maybe you should go back inside till it’s over. Won’t take long.”

  She watched the participants walk off the agreed steps and turn to face each other, ready to make their moves when the signal was given and count was complete, a scene she had witnessed too many times and in too many towns. While some men made bets on the winner’s identity and shouted encouragement to their choice, Beth frowned and murmured to residents nearby, “Enjoying and gambling on such wickedness should be against the law; it only promotes more violence.” It was easy for Beth to look distressed and afraid because she felt a dread anticipation of Navarro’s reaction if it wasn’t a fair battle or if the wrong man won. She glanced at the second drifter as he lazed against a post and grinned in confidence of the outcome. She could envision the behavior of the two arrogant troublemakers if one of them bested the local challenger in the showdown. But she had no doubt her partner would not allow them to give the cantina owner and customers more problems. She prayed the sheriff would arrive soon and prevent any possible intrusion into the situation by Navarro.

  When the gunslingers drew and fired, Beth sent out a squeal and jerked her shoulders as two blasts rent the momentary silence. One man clutched his chest, gaped at his slayer, and sank to his knees in the dirt. He wavered a moment then fell face forward into it. Cheers arose, bets were paid off, and congratulations were given to Caleb.

  Beth put on a look of horror and murmured, “Barbaric…”

  Navarro noted her reactions with concern because he didn’t realize they were part of her pretense. You’re as soft as your skin and as gentle as a tamed mare. I can’t figure why Dan thought you’d be qualified for the job ahead. I’m sure you can play my wife at the ranch, but there’s far more to our assignment than a cozy setting and parlor talk.

  The winner glared at the dead man’s pale and quaking friend. “You wanna try me next or git outta town afore I take a few more breaths?”

  The scared drifter glanced at his riding partner and shook his head. He swung into his saddle and galloped away, kicking up dust and debris.

  Navarro moved in front of Beth with speed and agility to shield her from the thr
own rocks that pelted his broad back. With the top of her head about level with his mouth and standing so close, she had to lift her face to look at him to speak words of gratitude. For a moment, her eyes seemed to melt into his. Then they were interrupted by her acquaintance before he could look away.

  “You all right, Miz. Lawrence?”

  She dragged her gaze from Navarro’s. “I’m fine, thank you. I should be accustomed to such evil by now, but I’m not. I wish men would stop thinking they have to fight and kill to prove their courage and manhood.”

  “Ain’t nothing for a fine lady to be forced to watch. Bye, ma’am.”

  Beth watched the Tucsonian glance at Navarro, nod, and depart. In control once more, she asked, “Still want to stroll to the Presidio?”

  As the sheriff and other residents arrived on the scene, Navarro guided Beth away from the crowd where questions surely would be asked. He halted them at the corner. “Let’s keep to our scheduled plans. We need to fool as many locals as we can in one week. Do you want to walk? Or would you prefer to ride in a buggy? I can fetch one fast.”

  “It isn’t that far, so let’s walk to relax and allow our meals to settle.”

  “Suits me.”

  Beth smiled as they began their stroll. So far she was impressed with her partner, perhaps more than was wise. Today, he looked quite handsome in medium-blue pants and shirt and a chamois-colored vest. His boots were brown and the hat on his dark head was tan. His garments were not unusual or flashy, nothing to call special attention to him, except for their perfect fit that showed off an also perfect physique. He was neat, clean, and his manners were impeccable. His hands and nails hadn’t been dirty or ragged a single time since meeting him. That had not been what she’d expected from a loner, a trail man. He wore one pistol, a Smith & Wesson single-action Frontier model. The weapon on his right side in a hand-tooled leather holster wasn’t swung low on his hip or strapped to a muscled thigh in a gunslinger’s style. He didn’t wear spurs, perhaps to allow him to move quietly.

  At present, he was gazing at their surroundings. He seemed almost distracted. She wished he wouldn’t be so silent and withdrawn when they were alone. It prevented her from getting to know the real man, and such familiarity was important during dangerous episodes. Most of the time, she was being herself so he could learn what to expect from her, but he wasn’t giving her that same opportunity.

  Beth tried to concentrate on other things to get her mind off Navarro. They strolled narrow and dusty side streets, unlike the wider ones in the busy section near Congress. Nor did the area have planked walks to cover dirt entries. Some businesses had porches to shade customers from the hot sun; others had two slender poles supporting a small overhang. They passed a barber shop with its red-and-white striped pole where a sign offered: “Shaving 15¢, Hair-cutting 25¢, Shampooing 25¢.” He needed none of those services. The majority of structures along their route and in town were one story, light colored, made of adobe, and flat roofed. Those with two or more floors, painted, constructed of imported wood, and with raised roofs, stood out as being different and quite obviously expensive.

  The trees they passed were mostly mesquites, in spring bloom and swarming with bees and other insects. Uncleared desert vegetation—cacti, creosote, scrubs, yucca, and others that grew here and there—clung tenaciously to the harsh soil, most with prickly spines to protect them. The landscape encircling the town was open to the foothills and peaks of five mountain ranges that ringed Tucson, with the Santa Catalinas being the tallest and most beautiful. Windmills, giant saguaro, and tall houses or businesses stood out against a clear blue horizon. Near some homes chickens, pigs, and burros roamed in freedom and let a person know when he got too close. Beth decided the region possessed a wild beauty, especially in spring when the engulfing desert came to verdant and colorful life.

  They reached Presidio San Augustin del Tucson, built as protection against “hostiles.” So many cultures had craved and occupied this area because of its water supply in the Sonoran Desert: Indians—Apache, Pima, and Papago—Conquistadors, Mexican troops and peasants, and American and foreign pioneers. The influence of each was visible inside and outside the magnificent site. The town enclosing it had flourished since the railroad’s arrival six years ago. The Spanish structure’s walls were three hundred yards long, twelve feet high, and three feet thick. Beth and Navarro paused in the entry to look inside the old fort, which was a small Mexican town with buildings, homes, shops, a plaza, and a walkway with columned arches.

  “Can you imagine the work and sweat it required to build a quadrangle this big and high?” Beth asked. “It must have taken years and countless laborers.”

  “Yep, guess so.”

  At that point, Navarro took her arm and guided her to the interior. They continued along to the busy plaza. A variety of sights, sounds, and odors greeted their senses. Music, mostly from guitars and fiddles, was being played in the street and in several establishments as accompaniment to eating and for heightening masculine pleasures. Mexican men were cloaked in serapes or ponchos, though the evening wasn’t chilly yet. Their women’s heads were scarved in rebozos; their bodies were clad in peasant garments.

  Beth had found the native clothing to be comfortable and colorful, and had purchased several pieces to take with her. She and her companion pretended to check various wares in free-standing booths and in windows of shops built against the outer wall. They looked at pottery, bird and animal figures, cotton clothing, baskets, rugs, flowers, hats, woven blankets and garments, and other assorted goods. They were both careful to remember their roles.

  At one lovely spot near a fountain with benches for resting and visiting with friends, they halted. Strolling musicians paused within a few feet of their location as the leader sang words that seemed to make her partner uneasy. As if she didn’t notice, she said, “The melody is so lovely, and his voice is wonderful. What’s he saying? It sounds as if it must be a romantic love song.”

  “Nope, it’s about lost love.”

  With a look of curiosity, she persisted, “Is there a story to it?”

  “Yep, a man going off to war, leaving his sweetheart behind. She’s supposed to wait for him. He returns, but she belongs to another. It’s about the pain of losing her.. He rides off, never to have her again.”

  Beth studied his closed expression, then looked away. Very suspicious, Navarro.

  “Ready to go? It’s getting late. Be dark soon.”

  Obviously too late to do anything about what’s bothering you. “Yes.”

  He stood, cocked his arm for her to take his elbow, and guided her out of the Presidio. They walked through the edge of town, then away from it toward her dwelling. The moment they were a short distance from people, he used a ruse to break their contact and leaned over, picked up a rock, and flung it into the deserty terrain. It went straight into a hole in a towering saguaro, an abandoned home made by a bird, probably an owl or woodpecker from its size.

  Beth came to a standstill, looked at him, and asked, “Did you do that on purpose?” He nodded. “Can you do it again?”

  Navarro repeated the action several times without a single miss or speaking a word.

  “Are you that accurate with bullets?”

  “Yep. With knives, lances, and hatchets, too.”

  Beth studied his profile as he threw the last rock and knew he wasn’t boasting. She also realized several of those weapons were Indian ones. He walked onward without taking her arm again.

  That heavy silence that disquieted Beth settled around them like an obscuring mist. On the good side, she told herself, no cross words or cocky behavior had surfaced today, so maybe a truce was in force. Perhaps she made him nervous and wary. After all, he wasn’t accustomed to working with a female partner, or to marrying one.

  At her porch, he halted and said, “I’ll be going. You get inside and bolt your door.”

  “Thank you for another pleasant evening. You’re enjoyable company.”

&nb
sp; “So are you, Beth. ‘Night. Same time and place tomorrow.”

  He departed in such a hurry that she was almost amused. So, my defensive loner, I make you edgy. That’s only fair sinceyou do the same thing to me. At least we aren’t battling anymore, now that I’ve yielded leadership to you. Be as good as Dan says you are or I’ll take that rank away before I allow our mission to suffer; it’s too important.

  Wednesday, they went to see Shakespeare’s The Tempest. It was being performed near town by a traveling theatrical company that had set up a stage, props, viewer benches, tents for costume changes, and curtains to hide actors between their scenes. The couple arrived from dinner only a few minutes before the curtain rose. They took places near the rear of the seating section, as many residents had come to be entertained at fifty cents per head. The play began and everyone fell silent.

  Beth was surprised Navarro had agreed to this evening’s plans, as a play of any kind didn’t strike her as being his idea of amusement. Yet, he didn’t appear the least bored, tense, or out of place. His hands—large, and strong—rested on his thighs in a relaxed position. His sable mane was a little wind-tossed tonight. The red shirt he wore with deep-blue pants and a tan vest caused his skin to look a darker bronze that made him more captivating than usual, if that were possible. Each time a breeze wafted past him, she caught the smell of a light and masculine cologne, but she didn’t recognize the scent. She did notice there was no odor of horses, leather, sweat, or dust on him. Of course, he had been in town for days. Even so, his grooming and manners were impeccable.