Under the Desert Sky (34 page)

“With only two birds producing prime feathers, I'm afraid I couldn't pay you very much.”

“Maybe you can.”

“How?”

“Your father-in-law just offered to buy you twenty adult ostriches.”

“He did not!”

“No, he really did. He said he's misjudged you and wants to make it up to you. And he gave me this.”

Christian handed her the paper W.F. had given him.

She took one look at it and ripped it in two. “No. If he expects me to sign that thing, he can keep his ostriches.”

“He said he admired you because you didn't sign it. He doesn't have a trust for Will.”

“Then I didn't lose anything, because—”

“Because you wouldn't sign a paper saying you wouldn't get married.”

Phoebe nodded her head.

Christian chuckled. “He isn't going to hold you to that either. He says that his grandson is definitely in his will.”

“Hey, you two,” Gwen called. “We need to get going. Crecy and Ina Claire are cooking up a big celebration dinner for July.”

“For me?” July asked. “How did they know the judge would rule in my favor?”

“Crecy said that she divined you would be found innocent.”

“She divined it?”

“Never question Crecy,” Phoebe said. “If she tells you she's divined something, you'd better listen to her.”

•  •  •

When the Prinsens' surrey pulled up, closely followed by Phoebe's buggy, Will was the first to jump down. He went running into the house, calling out at the top of his lungs, “July's here! He's out of jail!”

By the time Christian, Phoebe, and July reached the house, everyone was in the foyer to greet them.

When the congratulations were over, Ina Claire led them all into the dining room. “Crecy made a rib roast and I've been smelling it all afternoon. I can't wait to try it.”

During the meal, talk was of the trial, of how it was obvious Frank had set the fire, and the new revelation that W.F. wanted to partially replenish Phoebe's troop of birds.

“He wants to buy twenty birds from you, Yhomas—that is, if you're willing to sell them,” Christian said.

“I'm in the business of buying birds, not selling them. If it was for anyone else but Phoebe, I'd say no.”

“I appreciate that, because I may be taking on two new hands.” Phoebe looked toward Christian and smiled. “I know July can do the work, and I think he can teach a greenhorn what to do.”

“A greenhorn? You couldn't have found a better ostrich wrestler than me,” Christian said, continuing the banter.

“What makes you think you're the one I'm going to hire?” Phoebe cocked her head to one side.

Christian's eyes opened wide. “It'd better be me!”

“Well, I think the first thing we ought to do is go round up some birds. I assume you want them as soon as possible,” Yhomas said.

“I'll go,” Buck said.

“All right,” Yhomas said. “I think the birds pastured on the north forty will be the easiest to move.”

“You'll need help,” July said. “I'll go, too, if Crecy will hold back another piece of that apple pie.”

“Don't you worry about that,” Crecy said. “I've got a whole pie that has your name on it.”

July smiled. “That's what I like to hear.”

When July and Buck were gone, Crecy and Ina Claire began clearing the table.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this has been a very rewarding day,” Clarence Woodson said as he rose from the table. “Our friend July has been exonerated, W. F. Sloan has been rehabilitated, and Phoebe gets her livelihood back, but there is something else I'd like to say.

“I am an engineer, and by definition I like to tinker; if something doesn't work right, I want to know why. You've all heard the story of how Christian saved my life by shooting a mountain lion. What you don't know is that Christian was complaining about the balance of his rifle.

“I took it upon myself to inspect that rifle, expecting to find that the butt plate was a mixture of lead and brass, instead of the standard copper-and-zinc alloy. But I was wrong. It was just as it should be.

“Christian was right. The rifle was out of balance, but everything seemed to be standard-issue for a Martini. I took it upon myself to remove the butt plate, and I'd like to show you what I found.”

Clarence stood and left the dining room. When he returned, he had the rifle and a screwdriver. He handed both to Christian. “If you'll remove the butt plate, I think you'll find the cause of the imbalance.”

When Christian took off the plate, several small items fell from the hollowed-out section of the stock. Christian's mouth fell open when he saw what looked like octahedron-shaped alum crystals. “Raw diamonds. Where did these come from?”

Clarence laughed. “Well, they certainly didn't come from Arizona. Where did you get this rifle?”

“Mrs. Van Koopmans gave it to me before I left Cape Town. It's funny when I think back on it. It caused such a problem getting through customs that I almost got rid of it, but because it had been a gift from Mrs. Van Koopmans, I kept it.”

“Do you think she knew about the diamonds?” Yhomas asked.

“We're talking about Marie Van Koopmans. Was there anything going on that she didn't know? More than likely some IDB runner came through and needed money and he sold her this rifle.”

“An IDB runner? What's that?” Phoebe asked.

“An illicit diamond buyer. Until Cecil Rhodes consolidated De Beers, there were almost as many diamonds stolen as sold.”

“What do you think these are worth?” Yhomas picked up a couple of the stones.

“It's hard to say”—Christian looked at Phoebe—“but I'd guess it might be pretty close to twenty-five thousand dollars.”

Phoebe smiled broadly. “A pretty good inheritance.”

•  •  •

A single candle burned on the bedside table, its light casting shadows on the wall of a man and a woman making love, not hurriedly or furtively, but with slow, sensuous kisses and strokes, a giving and taking of shared possessiveness.

Then, after mutual, satisfying climaxes, they lay together, naked skin against naked skin.

“Oh, what a wonderful day this has been!” Phoebe said. “Will is upstairs in his own bed, July was found innocent, W.F. is replacing the birds”—she snuggled closer to Christian—“and I'm in bed with the man I love. This day could not possibly be better.”

“Oh, I wouldn't say that. There is something that would make it better.”

“What's that?”

“If you tell me you'll marry me.”

Phoebe sat up and looked at Christian, his face gleaming gold in the candlelight. “Is that a proposal?”

“Yes. I'm asking you to marry me.”

“Let me think about it,” Phoebe teased.

“All right, think about it, but I have to warn you, there is a time limit on the offer.”

“How long would that be?”

“Oh, I'd say about seventy years or so. If you haven't agreed to marry me by then, I'm going to take the offer back.”

“Well, if you're going to be that way about it, I guess I'd better say yes now.”

“I guess you had better.” Christian put his arms around Phoebe's neck and pulled her down to him.

“Oh, my,” she said after a long, deep kiss. “Again?”

“I want to keep trying until I get it right.”

ALSO BY SARA LUCK

Susanna's Choice

Claiming the Heart

Tallie's Hero

Rimfire Bride

Marci's Desire

Hearts Unbound

Hearts Afire

A Family for Maddie

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