A Spear of Summer Grass - By Deanna Raybourn Page 0,61
I suppose most whites didn’t bother thanking Masai for anything, but Gideon instructed him where to take the cattle and turned to me.
“He will sleep in the barn with the cows, Bibi. Perhaps occasionally, when his work is finished and the cows are safe, he may go home and see our babu.”
“Of course. Whenever he likes.”
“No, Bibi. It is for you to say.”
“I think we are about to have our first argument, Gideon.” I smiled to show I wasn’t serious, and to my relief, his face split into a wide grin.
“You are joking with me.”
“Yes, I am. I really am quite happy for Moses to go back home whenever he is needed so long as the cattle are secured. What about his schooling?”
“Most Masai never go to school. Moses has already learned much more than many of our people. He is happy to have a job that will pay him money.” He hesitated, and although he said nothing, I sensed there was more.
“Gideon?” I made the word gentle, coaxing.
He took a breath, his voice pitched low as he leaned on his spear.
“Bibi, I worry for my brother. His leg is weak and he cannot tend cattle as Masai do, walking many, many miles every day. Without this, he cannot be a man of importance in our tribe, and he will not marry. It is a very bad thing for a man not to marry and have children. It is not our way for a man to be alone.”
“I see. And by earning a wage, he can contribute?”
The tension in his face eased.
“This is true, Bibi. And I would not tell you an untruth. If I say that Moses is good with cows, he is very good indeed. He does not speak, but he can whistle and he has a sense for what they need. They like him. Your cattle will be in good hands.”
“I never doubted it. You really think this will help him?”
“Yes, Bibi. He will earn money, and in time he will buy his own cows and then a girl will be happy to marry him and give him children because he will be a man like others.”
“Very well. He can skip school and tend the cattle and he may visit your babu whenever he likes.”
He gave me a nod. “I will tell Moses of this. He will come to you before he goes to make certain it is your wish.”
“Fine.”
He paused. “Is there anything else you would have me do?”
I shrugged. “Nothing I can think of. I suppose you will be off with Ryder, hunting.”
“No, Bibi. I am to remain here.”
I lifted a brow. “To do what?”
Gideon shuffled a moment. The Masai do not like to tell untruths. Neither do they like to admit something distasteful, but then no man likes to tell a woman something that might annoy her.
“Gideon?”
“I am to watch over you, Bibi.”
“I do not require watching over.”
“Regardless, Bibi, this is the thing I have been given to do.”
I kept a rein on my temper and thought the matter through. I liked Gideon. Ryder had set him to watching over me, which I deplored, but that was my issue with Ryder, not Gideon. I nodded.
“I understand. It’s not your fault Ryder is a high-handed arrogant jackass.”
“I beg your pardon, but this word I have not heard. What does ‘jackass’ mean? Is it like ‘son of a bitch’?”
“I’m assuming you didn’t learn that phrase at the mission school?”
“Oh, no. Bwana is very fluent in bad language.”
“No doubt. And no, ‘jackass’ isn’t quite as bad as ‘son of a bitch.’ It just means someone who gets on your nerves.”
He nodded, his expression serious. “A woman could love a jackass. She could not love a son of a bitch.”
“Many have tried, Gideon. Many have tried.”
* * *
Gideon put himself to work finishing the fencing in the small pasture where I had elected to keep the cattle. The huge Masai herds roamed over vast tracts of the savannah and scrubland, but a few dairy cattle would be far easier to keep penned near the house. Moses moved among the skittish cows, petting them and humming an odd little tune. From time to time he gave me a wide smile, very like his brother’s, and I carried lunch out to them, leaving it on a rock for them to find since they didn’t like to eat directly from a woman’s hand.
As I walked back to the house, I saw the rising dust cloud on the horizon, and in a