lla.theburninghills-第15部分

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wood　in　bloom　but　doubted　his　senses；　for　the　season　was　late。　Yet　many　desert　plants　bloomed　according　to　rainfall　and　with　small　regard　for　seasons。
　Maria　Cristina　came　to　the　fire　and　accepted　coffee　from　him。　Her　face　was　somber；　and　she　stood；　feet　apart；　holding　the　cup　in　both　hands。　〃It　is　quiet；〃　she　said　suddenly。　〃Yes　。。。　I　like　it　here。〃
　She　drank　her　coffee；　then　ate。　He　gathered　more　firewood　and　then　walked　back　up　the　trail　to　study　the　approaches　by　daylight。　Only　two　or　three　places　offered　access　to　the　water　and　all　were　in　full　view　of　their　camp　site。
　From　the　top　of　the　knoll　he　studied　the　surroundings。　There　was　a　nearby　mesa　that　offered　danger　but　few　approaches　through　the　cactus　barrier。　At　the　top　of　the　knoll　in　a　place　he　could　work　without　being　seen　he　assembled　a　few　rocks　into　a　low　barrier。
　There　was　grass　for　the　horse　and　they　had　food　for　several　days。　They　could　wait
　Maria　Cristina　had　washed　their　few　dishes　and　had　hot　water　on　when　he　returned。　She　was　putting　creosote　leaves　into　the　water　and　when　they　had　steeped　for　some　time　she　bathed　her　bruised　face　in　the　water。
　All　day　long　they　rested；　sleeping　much　of　the　time。　Occasionally；　from　the　top　of　the　knoll；　Jordan　made　a　reconnaissance　of　the　country　around；　always　keeping　himself　under　cover。　He　could　see　but　a　short　distance　and　in　that　distance　there　was　nothing　alive　but　the　birds；　who　seemed　very　busy　among　the　cacti。　Without　doubt　the　Sutton…Bayless　riders　were　somewhere　around。　By　this　time　they　should　be　closing　in。　The　thought　increased　his　restlessness　but　there　would　be　nowhere　that　would　offer　them　more　than　they　had　at　present。
　Maria　Cristina　bathed　her　bruised　face　several　times　and　in　the　late　afternoon　went　into　the　thicket　to　find　herbs　that　could　be　eaten　to　fill　out　their　slender　supply　of　food。
　At　dusk　Trace　Jordan　took　his　Winchester　and　worked　his　way　to　the　top　of　the　mesa　where　he　sat　for　a　long　time；　studying　the　country。　From　there　he　could　see　for　miles　in　all　directions；　yet　it　was　not　until　he　started　to　get　up　to　return　that　he　caught　sight　of　the　distant　spot　of　red。
　Far　beyond　the　limits　of　the　cholla　forest；　it　was　without　doubt　a　campfire。　And　it　would　be　ten　or　twelve　miles　away。　Catching　the　last　of　the　fading　light；　he　worked　his　way　back　down　the　mesa　to　the　oasis。
　〃They're　out　there；〃　he　said。
　〃We　stay？〃
　〃If　we　don't　move　we　won't　make　tracks。〃
　They　did　not　have　to　worry　about　their　own　fire。　He　knew　the　distance　a　blaze　can　be　seen　at　night　but　their　own　camp　was　so　deep　in　the　canyon　and　so　well　surrounded　by　trees　and　brush　that　it　could　not　be　seen　fifty　yards　off。　Their　best　chance　was　to　sit　tight
　She　sat　close　by　the　fire；　its　light　touching　her　somber　face。　Some　of　the　swelling　had　gone　and　the　bruises　were　changing　color。　Yet　now　she　looked　remote；　lonely。
　〃What　will　you　do？〃　he　asked　suddenly。　〃You　cannot　go　back。〃
　She　shrugged。
　〃Stay　with　me。〃
　She　looked　up；　her　eyes　flashing；　almost　angry。　〃With　you？　For　why？　Why　I　go　with　you？〃
　〃You're　my　woman；　Maria　Cristina。〃
　〃I　am　nobody's　woman。〃
　〃You're　my　woman。　Get　used　to　the　idea。〃
　She　glared　at　him；　then　said　contemptuously；　〃For　why　am　I　your　woman？　Because　I　help　you？　I　do　it　for　a　dog。　All　right　。。。　I　am　in　trouble。　They　hate　me。　I　hate　them　too。〃
　〃I'm　not　going　to　let　you　go；　Maria。〃
　〃You　have　nothing　to　say　if　I　go　or　stay。〃
　He　got　his　bed　roll　and　opened　it　out　near　the　fire。　He　stretched　out；　leaning　on　one　elbow。　He　fed　small　sticks　into　the　fire　and　tried　to　find　words　to　say　what　was　in　his　mind。
　She　could　never　go　back　now　and　because　of　him。　Because　of　him　she　was　lost　to　her　family　and　yet　he　knew　it　was　no　sense　of　obligation　that　made　him　feel　as　he　did。
　It　had　been　a　long　time　since　he　had　talked　to　women　and　words　did　not　e　easily　to　him　and　yet　he　knew；　desperately；　that　he　must　find　words　to　reach　this　woman。　He　must　make　her　realize　that　he　loved　her；　that　he　really　wanted　her。　He　thought　of　many　things　to　say　but　they　found　no　shape　on　his　lips。　They　all　seemed　empty　and　meaningless。
　He　was　learning　that　to　speak　of　love　is　not　easy　when　the　feeling　is　deep　and　strong。
　She　lifted　her　eyes　suddenly　and　looked　across　the　small　fire　at　him。　〃You　think　because　I　e　here　with　you　that　I　am　your　woman？　Well　。。。　I　am　not。〃
　〃I　need　you；　Maria；〃
　〃You　need　me？　You　need　a　woman　。。。　any　woman。　Then　you　ride…on。　Maybe　sometime　again　you　need　a　woman；　you　find　one　again。〃　She　looked　at　him　with　a　taunt　in　her　eyes。　〃Anyway；　I　don't　think　you　need　a　woman　very　often。〃
　He　ignored　the　ment　and　relaxed。　〃Trouble　is；〃　he　mused；　〃I　let　you　ride　that　horse。　I　should　have　made　you　walk　。。。　all　the　way。〃
　He　sat　up　and　began　to　roll　a　smoke。　〃And　I　should　have　made　you　carry　the　pack　too。〃
　She　glared　at　him。　He　took　a　stick　from　the　fire　and　lighted　his　cigarette。　〃A　good　woman　needs　to　work；〃　he　said。　〃They're　unhappy　if　they　aren't　working。　Keep　'em　busy；　that's　what　I　say。〃
　〃You！〃　she　said　witheringly。　〃What　do　you　know？〃
　He　drew　deep　on　the　cigarette。　〃I　know　you're　my　woman；　Maria　Cristina。　Maybe　I'll　make　you　my　woman　tonight。〃
　〃Maybe　you　die。〃　She　looked　at　him；　her　eyes　fierce　and　proud。
　〃Sure；〃　he　said；　〃my　mistake　was　letting　you　ride。　If　you　had　followed　behind　with　a　pack　on　your　back　you'd　be　happy　now。　Next　time　we　move；　you　walk。〃
　〃You　think　you　strong！〃
　The　moon　had　risen　beyond　the　mesa　and　the　cholla　needles　were　like　white　flowers　in　the　strange　light；　a　beautiful　white　like　a　garden　of　flowers　。。。　a　garden　of　death。　A　bat　dipped　and　darted　through　the　air　and　out　across　the　pool　something　splashed　in　the　water。
　He　rolled　up　on　his　elbow　again。　〃Always　figured　to　get　myself　a　ranch。　Just　a　few　cows　and　some　horses。　Mostly　horses。　Nothing　real　big；　just　a　place　that's　mine。　I　want　my　own　home。
　〃I　always　wanted　a　place　with　a　view。　One　where　I　can　see　all　the　way　into　tomorrow　。。。　a　place　with　a　long　trail　leading　to　it　with　my　house　at　the　end　of　the　road。　I　want　to　see　my　own　horses　feeding　in　my　own　meadow。　I　want　to　see　some　youngsters　growing　up。〃
　He　smoked　the　cigarette　down　to　a　butt；　then　nursed　the　last　few　drags　before　tossing　it　into　the　flames。　〃Been　a　long　time　since　I　had　a　home。　Take　me　awhile　to　get　halter…broke　again。。。　but　I　could　do　it。〃
　A　coyote　spoke　the　moon；　his　shrill　cries　mounting　in　crescendo；　then　dying　away　in　echoes　against　the　mesa　wall。
　〃A　man　can't　make　it　alone。　Needs　him　a　woman。　These　here　city　women；　they　look　mighty　nice　but　a　man　out　here　needs　a　woman　who　can　walk　beside　him；　not　behind　him。〃
　Maria　Cristina　said　nothing。　Her　eyes　were　a　little　softer；　perhaps；　her　hands　relaxed。　Some　of　the　tenseness　seemed　to　have　gone　out　of　her。
　〃You　an'　me；　we　could　make　it。　I'm　a　hand　with　horses　and　I　know　where　there's　some　pretty　good　wild　stock。　Buy　us　a　stallion　maybe；　good　blood。　Might　get　a　Morgan。
　〃Man　can　do　a　lot　worse　than　raise　horses。　This　is　horse　country；　an'　down　here　they'll　always　have　a　need　for　horse　stock。　With　a　Morgan　stallion　a　man　could　breed　some　fair　stuff　in　a　few　years。　First　year　or　two　might　not　be　easy。　Reckon　I　couldn't　offer　you　much　。。。　not　right　off。　Nothin'　much　but　work　and　a　home。〃
　〃I　have　always　work。〃
　She　did　not　look　at　him　but　she　spoke。　He　glanced　across　the　fire　at　her　but　she　did　not　meet　his　eyes　and　then　suddenly　she　got　up　and　started　away。
　〃A　man　should　stick　to　what　he　knows；〃　he　said；　to　her　departing　back。　〃I　know　horses　。。。　maybe　not　so　much　about　women。〃
　He　made　no　move　to　follow　her。　She　seemed　to　wish　to　be　alone；　to　think；　perhaps。　Well；　it　was　true　of　himself。　He　took　his　rifle　and　walked　off　toward　the　path；　not　knowing　if　she　saw　him　or　not。
　The　forest　of　cholla　lay　like　a　fluffy　white　cloud　when　he　climbed　the　mesa；　yet　a　cloud　posed　of　thorns；　invisible　in　the　moonlight；　but　ready　to　rend　and　tear。　The　Indians　and　the　Mexicans　thought　the　bunches　of　needles　would　lean　toward　a　hand　that　came　close；　would　jump　at　bare　flesh。　He　doubted　it　but　there　were　times　when　it　seemed　to　happen。
　Atop　the　mesa　he　looked　off　into　the　vast　mysterious　distances　of　the　desert。
　He　thought　of　the　silent　girl　beside　the　pool。　He　had　known　few　women　and　certainly　none　at　all　like　Maria　Cristina。　Yet　it　seemed　to　him　she　was　like　some　horses　he　had　handled；　shying　from　a　hand　that　would　caress；　hungry　to　be　petted；　yet　afraid　to　be　trapped；　to　be　caught；　to　be　cheated。
　He　stared　out　across　the　desert。　Wherever　the　fire　was；　it　was　gone　now　。。。　no　。。。　it　was　there；　winking　from　time　to　time　across　the　distance。
　Around　that　fire　were　belted　men；　tough　men；　dedicated　to　hunting　him　down。　Between　those　men　and　himself　there　could　be　no　peace。　It　was　a　bloody　and　desperate　fight　for　survival；　a　fight　that　had　driven　him　until　soon　he　would　have　his　back　to　the　wall；　where　he　must　stand　and　fight。
　It　was　a　pity　that　Maria　Cristina　was　involved；　yet　had　she　not　chosen　to　involve　herself　he　would　be　dead。　He　would　have　died　on　that　mesa　shelf；　alone。
　All　the　more　reason　he　should　protect　her　now；　yet　it　would　be　useless　to　tell　her　to　take　the　horse　and　go。　She　would　merely　look　at　him　with　that　haughty　contempt　and　remain　right　where　she　was。
　So　what　to　do？　If　they　escaped　from　here；　where　could　they　go？　Deeper　into　Mexico？　He　did　not　know　the　trails；　although　he　knew　this　area　of　Sonora　and　much　of　Chihuahua。　And　he　was　sure　she　did　not　know　the　way。　Every　foot　of　travel　to　the　south　would　be　dangerous　because　of　marauding　Apaches。
　To　go　back　across　the　border　at　some　point　distant　from　the　Sutton…Bayless　stronghold？
　Yet　with　one　horse　it　would　be　a　dangerous　trip。　Only　luck　and　the　strength　of　the　red　horse　had　brought　them　this　far　and　neither　could　last。
　After　long　thought　he　got　up　and　went　back　down　the　trail　to　the　water。　Only　the　fire　glowed　。。。　there　was　no　sound　and　no　movement。　His　bed　lay　beside　the　fire　where　he　had　unrolled　it　but　of　Maria　Cristina　there　was　no　sign。
　He　spoke　her　name　into　the　silence　。。。　nothing。　He　said　her　name　again；　louder　this　time　and　with　rising　fear。
　No　sound；　nothing　。。。
　He　ran　swiftly　to　her　bed。　It　was　there　but　she　was　not。　He　called　her