She looked shocked for a moment, then she stared directly at me.
“You want me to go because you will do things to that boy you would be ashamed to do if I were here. Is that it, Jay?”
That was it, but I wasn’t going to admit it.
“Don’t talk nonsense. This goof has to be handled. We don’t have women around in the Army. I don’t want my wife around now. This is important. I want you out of here!”
“I’ll get lunch.”
“Lucy ! You heard what I said! I want you out of here!”
She got to her feet.
“I’ll get lunch,” and she went into the bungalow.
I sat still, on the boil, then I got up and followed her in.
She was looking at the cans lined up on the kitchen table.
“Is this what you want for lunch, Jay?”
“If it’s okay with you.”
She began opening the cans.
“After lunch I want you to pack and go.”
“I’m not going.” She poured the soup into a saucepan. Then she paused and looked directly at me. “I’m not going, Jay.” Her eyes were bright with tears, but her mouth and chin were firm. “You said : “No matter what, Lucy, I love you. You’ll look back on this and you’ll forgive me if I’ve hurt you.” That’s what you said.” She began to shake a little and she looked quickly out of the open window. “You’re hurting me now, but I’ll look back and I’ll forgive you.”
That brought me up short. My anger died. I hesitated, then lifted my hands helplessly.
“Okay, Lucy, you win. I’m not fighting you or losing you for fifty thousand dollars. So I’ll quit. I’ll tell Timoteo to get the hell out of here. I’ll send the bond back to Savanto. We’ll settle for this broken down range and we could still make a success of it. Is that what you want?”
She was looking at the opened can of chickens’ breasts.
“This looks nice. Are you hungry?”
“Did you hear what I said?”
A tear ran down her cheek and she flicked it away impatiently.
“Yes, I heard.” She put down the can and now her lips were trembling. “You may be difficult, Jay, and you may be tough and sometimes unkind, but I do know for sure you’re not a quitter.”
I stood looking at her for a long moment. It took me a second or so to realise what she was saying, then I grabbed her, whisked her off her feet and carried her into the bedroom.
“Jay! What are you doing?” She tried to wriggle out of my grip. “Jay! There’s lunch to get ready ! Oh, Jay, you mad fool !”
I undid the tops of her jeans and skinned them off her the way you skin a rabbit. I had her standing on the back of her neck before I got them off.
She was protesting, but laughing and crying at the same time.
If I couldn’t handle Timoteo Savanto, I could handle my wife.
Hemingway once wrote that when a man and a woman come together the earth moves… not often, but sometimes.
Well, the earth moved for us.
“Jay… you could have given me a baby,” Lucy said.
I opened my eyes and stared up at the ceiling with its patterns of sunlight, then I turned over on my side to look at her.
“Would you like that?” I asked.
“Yes. Would you?”
“I guess. I’d teach the little bastard to shoot.”
“It could be a girl.”
I grinned at her.
“Then you could teach her to be nice, kind, understanding and as sexy as you are.”
We looked at each other.
“I’m sorry, honey. I got worked up. Truly, I’m sorry.”
She touched my hand.
“It’s all right, Jay… honest.”
From her smile I knew it was all right.
“You don’t really think we made a kid?” I asked.
She giggled.
“That’s how babies are made. We could have.”
She slid off the bed and struggled into her jeans.
“Look at the time!”
It was 12.43.
I got off the bed and found my slacks.
“I’ll get him. You get lunch.”
“No… leave him. He told me he doesn’t have lunch. He only eats once a day.”
I shrugged, thinking : a real goon.
“Well, okay, but remember I eat three times a day.”
“As if I could forget.”
She ran off into the kitchen.
I went out on to the verandah. Making love the way we had had relaxed me. I felt I had solved a problem with Lucy, but I still had to solve the problem with Timoteo.
After lunch we took our coffee out on the verandah.
“What will you do, Jay?”
“Go down there and talk to him. It’s okay, Lucy, I’ll handle him with kid gloves. Did you get around to calling our six pupils?”
She flushed.
“I — I forgot.”
“It doesn’t matter. The phone’s on the blink.”
She looked questioningly at me.
“What’s the matter with it?”
“The same as the car. We’re cut off for nine days. Raimundo is in charge of security.”
“This is crazy !”
“There it is. I guess…”
I saw she wasn’t listening. She had stiffened and was looking beyond me and the scared look was back in her eyes.
I looked around.
Raimundo was leaning against one of the uprights of the verandah. His eyes were screwed up against the sun. He was looking directly at me.
I finished my coffee, taking my time, then I asked him what he wanted.
“Can I talk to you?” He sounded polite and he wasn’t grinning.
“Go ahead.”
He glanced at Lucy.
“You coming over to the gallery?”
I got to my feet.
“I’ll get to work,” I said, smiling at Lucy. “See you.”
I left the shade of the verandah and started off towards the gallery. Raimundo fell into step beside me. We walked in silence until we reached the gallery.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked.
“It’s not what’s on my mind. It’s what’s on yours. Why isn’t he shooting?”
“Look, glamour-boy, you take care of security and I’ll take care of the shooting… right?”
His eyes were like points of steel now.
“It’s time you came down to earth, soldier. You don’t seem to know what you’ve walked into.”
“You’re flapping with your mouth again. Beat it !” I said. “I have a job to do and you have a job to do. I do my job my way : you do yours your way. Now, dust !”
He walked into the lean-to and sat on one of the benches. I hesitated, then joined him.
“Come on… beat it !” I snapped.
He looked up at me.
“Are you having trouble with Timoteo?”
“Up on the legs and dust.”
“Because if you are I can fix it. That’s why I’m here.”
“Is it I thought you were here to take care of the security.”
“That and Timoteo.”
Then I remembered what Savanto had said. Two of my men will be arriving tomorrow with Timoteo. They will look after security, and they will also look after Timoteo if he gets difficult.
I sat down on the opposite bench. I thought for a moment, then shrugged.
“I guess I’m having trouble with him,” I said. “He doesn’t want to shoot.”
“Okay. Why didn’t you say so? I’ll fix it.”
The confidence in his voice made me stare at him.
“I didn’t ask you to fix it. What’s the matter with him?”
Raimundo sneered.
“Just a big yellow streak… that’s all. You and Mrs. Benson have now been with him since 06.00. He has fired off only two shots. Okay, now I’ll talk to him.”