Under the Desert Sky (9 page)

“We very much want to hear what you have to say.” Benjamin Fowler extended his hand. “I'm in contact with a California lawyer who thinks we can get the government to pay for all of this, and with your experience with Cecil Rhodes, you undoubtedly have some insight.”

Christian rubbed his chin as he weighed his thoughts before he answered. “I'll say this: I respect Rhodes for his foresight and intentions. I believe he thought he was doing what was best for South Africa, but from my vantage point, I know that some of the people he took into his confidence were unscrupulous. My advice to you would be to make certain that anyone involved in this project is thoroughly vetted and proven to have the utmost integrity.”

Yhomas Prinsen began clapping his hands as a wide smile crossed his face. “My dear friend Marie Van Koopmans couldn't have said it better!”

“I can assure you George Maxwell is an honest man,” Fowler said, somewhat taken aback by Christian's comment, and Yhomas's reaction.

“I'm sure he is,” Yhomas said. “It's just that Christian has seen firsthand what corruption can occur when private enterprise colludes with government dollars.”

“Then that's an even better reason to have him on our side,” Benjamin said. “I'm wondering, Christian, would you be available to accompany a group of men who are going up to the Tonto Basin? Maxwell thinks we should form a cooperative and get total control over the dam site before we try to get Congress to authorize federal funding.”

“What would this group be doing?” Christian asked.

“They need to make some preliminary surveys. They'll be boring in the bedrock to see if Tonto would be the best site. Also, someone needs to estimate some costs before we try to raise capital.”

“When would this expedition begin?” Christian asked.

“As soon as we can get Frederick Newell here from Washington. He's supposed to be the government's best hydrographic surveyor, according to Maxwell.”

“Do you think the team could use a good mechanical engineer?” Yhomas asked.

“Of course,” Benjamin said. “Who do you have in mind?”

“A friend of Christian's. Christian, do you think Clarence could leave Albany?”

“Clarence Woodson? Why him?”

“From what you've told me, he may be one of the most innovative men I've ever heard about. You said he helped invent a long gun out of nothing, and he devised a water system that kept Kimberley alive during the siege. If he's not doing anything, I think he'd be an ideal person to help us out.”

“You may be right,” Christian said.

“Then as a member of this committee, I'm suggesting we bring him out here . . . and I'm suggesting he bring his family with him. You wouldn't mind renewing your friendship with his daughter, would you?”

Christian laughed. “Now I understand what you're saying. It would be good to see Ina Claire again. But seriously, I do believe Clarence Woodson would be a valuable addition to any organization if he's available.”

“Well, then, send for this fellow,” Fowler said. “I'll let you know when Newell is expected. Perhaps they can coordinate their travel.”

“I'll take care of it,” Yhomas said.

“Good.”

•  •  •

Gwen Bucknell and her two daughters were tying their horses to the hitching rail in front of Phoebe's house when a lone ostrich came running toward them.

“Get ready, here comes Wapi,” Gwen said.

When the bird reached them, he began extending his gangling neck under Hannah's arms, trying to take the sack of peppermint sticks she'd brought for Will.

“Get away,” Hannah scolded as she tried to fend off the six-foot-tall bird. “What's Miss Phoebe going to do with this thing when he gets full grown?”

“I don't know,” Phoebe said with a little laugh as she and Will stepped out onto the porch. “Girls, see if you and Will can get him back in his pen. You may have to give him a little of your candy.”

“You need someone to build a pen that would keep him in,” Gwen said. “I hear you had a little trouble last night.”

“I suppose Mr. De Wet told you.”

“Since you two spent the night together, don't you think you should call him Christian?”

“Gwen!” Seeing the humor in Gwen's eyes, Phoebe laughed. “You're awful. You know it wasn't like that.”

“I know. And given the circumstances, I'm glad he stayed with you.”

“Did he tell you I took a shot at him?”

“What?” Gwen gasped.

“I put a hole in his boot.”

“My Lord, Phoebe!”

Phoebe laughed again, then took Gwen inside and led her into the bedroom. She pointed to the hole in the ceiling. “Evidently his boots were sitting just over where the bullet came through.”

At that moment, there was a knock at the door. “Senora Sloan?”

“That must be the boys.” Phoebe went to the front door. “Good morning, Cornello, I'm glad you're back. Where's Trinidad? Did he go to check the incubator?”

Cornello lowered his head and removed his hat. “No, ma'am, that is why I am here.”

“Oh, dear, has something happened?”

Cornello cleared his throat and looked away before he spoke. “
Sí, he is in la cárcel
.”

“He's in jail?”

“Yes, ma'am, Judge Johnstone put him in jail when he not pay his fine.”

“What did he do, Cornello? Tell me, no matter how bad it is.”

“He had his gun with him, but he did not show it.”

“You mean he had a concealed weapon,” Gwen said, overhearing the conversation. “Everybody knows you can't do that.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Cornello nodded. “He needs fifty dollars to get out of
la cárcel
. He say to get it from you, senora.”

“Fifty dollars! I don't have fifty dollars. Trinidad will have to stay in jail if he thinks I can come up with that kind of money. How long has he been there?”

“This his second day.”

“His second day? Cornello, do you know if either you or Trinidad has seen Rojas Montoya?”

“Yes, ma'am. I see him at the fiesta.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Bad things. He say lots of damage. He say we go.”

Phoebe's brow furrowed. “What kind of bad things?”

“Lots of people die. Rojas brother . . . my sister—they both live in Galveston. We go see if hurricane”—Cornello made a swirling motion with his hand—“blow them away.”

“I'm so sorry, Cornello. Of course you should go. I have five dollars. Will that help you?” Phoebe turned to go back in the house before Cornello could answer. When she returned, she handed him the money. “If you see Trinidad, tell him I can't help him.”

“But who will help you, senora? The eggs—don't forget to turn them.”

“I will.” Phoebe didn't want to tell Cornello what had happened because she thought it was important for him to go to his sister in Galveston. The papers had been full of accounts of the mounting death toll, now numbered in the thousands, and by comparison twenty-five eggs was a small loss. Phoebe hugged Cornello. “I hope you find your sister well.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Cornello put on his hat and turned to go.

Phoebe and Gwen watched the old man walk away. “He won't be back,” Gwen said.

“I think not. Did you hear him remind me to turn the eggs? That proves he knows nothing about what happened, so he couldn't possibly have told Rojas, which means Rojas couldn't possibly have told Frank. The only way Frank could've known about the broken eggs is if he's the one responsible.”

“From the moment I first heard, there was no doubt in my mind as to who broke them. But what are you going to do now? With Cornello gone and Trinidad in jail, who's going to help you?”

“Christian suggested he might bring over a friend who came with him from South Africa. Maybe I should take him up on his offer.”

“That would be July.”

“It seems like a strange nickname.”

“I don't think it's a nickname. I think it's the only name he has—not even a last name.”

“No last name? How can that be?”

“He's a Zulu.”

“Oh?” Phoebe's eyes opened wide.

Gwen laughed. “He's a most endearing man, and I'll say this. If July comes to take care of you, no one, not even Frank Sloan, will dare cross you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He's a big man—practically a giant. July will make an excellent bodyguard for you, and besides, Buck says he knows a lot about ostriches.”

“That's good. I hope Christian was serious, because it sounds like July is just the person I need right now.”

•  •  •

“Yhomas said you could keep the horse over at Mrs. Sloan's place for as long as you need it,” Christian said as he and July saddled their mounts. “You're sure you don't mind doing this?”

“Does Mrs. Sloan know that I'm . . .”

“A black man?” Christian chuckled. “Now that you bring it up, I don't think I mentioned it. What I said was that you're a good man. And right now I'll feel better knowing there's a good man over at her place to look out for her.”

“Why don't
you
stay there, then?”

“I thought about that, but I don't think it'd look right.”

Now it was July's turn to laugh. “You think in America, where you and I couldn't stay in the same hotel, it'll look better if a black man stays with this woman than it will if you stay with her?”

“You won't be there by yourself. She has two men who work for her, but I don't expect they know too much about raising ostriches. Maybe you can teach them a thing or two.”

“Maybe, if they'll listen to me.”

•  •  •

When they arrived at Phoebe's place, Will came running out to meet them. “Wet! You've come back!”

“Yes, but I can't stay very long.” Christian and July dismounted.

Will looked up at July in awe. “Are you a giant?”

Christian smiled, pleased that what Will had noticed first about July was his size.

“Will, this is my friend July. And if July is my friend, and I am your friend, that means July must also be your friend.”

Will smiled. “Do you want to see my pet ostrich?”

“Would that be Wapi?” July asked.

Will's eyes opened wide. “How do you know his name?”

“Well, when we rode by, Wapi told me his name.” July smiled. Christian had told July all about Will and Wapi.

“Wapi can talk to you, too?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Let's go find your mother, then you can take July on a tour of the place,” Christian said.

•  •  •

When the two men entered her home, Phoebe was overwhelmed by July's size.

“I take it you agree that July will be welcomed here.”

Phoebe extended her hand to July. “I'm Phoebe Sloan, and of course you're welcome here. I'm sorry for staring, but I do believe you may be the tallest man I've ever seen.”

“My people are tall.”

•  •  •

On the ride back to the Prinsens, Christian felt better knowing July would be overseeing Phoebe's operation. He knew she'd be safe as well, because July's size could intimidate her brother-in-law or anyone else who tried to bother her.

Phoebe had said that Frank Sloan was married, and yet he'd openly said he wanted her in his bed. What kind of man would insinuate such a thing, especially to his brother's wife? If Phoebe were his sister-in-law, he'd do everything he could to take care of her. If Phoebe were his wife . . .

Christian quickly put the thought out of his mind. Women were an enigma to him. He was soon to be thirty years old, and while he wasn't a virgin, he'd never before met a woman who excited him. But he'd be lying if he didn't confess that last night when he held Phoebe, she in her thin nightgown and he in his underwear, the close contact between them had generated prurient ideas.

He thought of Ina Claire Woodson, and wondered if, by having such thoughts of Phoebe, he was being untrue to Ina Claire. He and Ina Claire had grown quite close during their time together while Kimberley was under siege.

He'd never had such thoughts about Ina Claire; he'd thought of her more as a good friend than anything else. But, to be fair, the time he'd spent with Ina Claire didn't lend itself to such thinking. They were too busy surviving the siege to let salacious thoughts enter the picture.

Perhaps Yhomas was right. If she came with her father, he might be able to kindle a real relationship with her. That'd be better than pursuing any kind of relationship with Phoebe. Why was he even thinking about Phoebe? He knew little about her, and she knew even less about him. At least Ina Claire knew his past.

•  •  •

When Christian rode into the lane, Yhomas and Reuben Bucknell were standing beside the paddock that contained the feather birds. These were ostriches between six and eighteen months old, and at this age their feathers were a dingy drab color with just a hint of black. As they matured, the males would develop glossy black plumes and the females a soft gray, both having white wings and tails.

“Christian,” Yhomas said when he saw him approach. “Did you leave July over at the Sloan place?”

“I did. I think he's going to fit in fine over there. Will seems to be quite taken with him already.”

“We're going to miss that big fellow when it's time for the plucking,” Buck said. “I was counting on him, but I suppose he'll be more help to Trinidad and Cornello. I don't know how much longer those two can work for Phoebe, but she's too loyal to get anybody else to come in and take their places.”

“It may be that she
has
to get somebody else,” Christian said. “She said Cornello is going to Galveston—his sister lives there and he wants to check on her to see if she survived the big hurricane.”