to his pinto and the animal obediently trotted over to him. Bracing
Jamie's weight with his hand upon the pommel, he managed to somehow
swing up with Jamie in his arms. Then he made a clucking sound and the
animal took off at a smooth lope.
At the ranch, Dolly, Hank and Jane were waiting with anxious concern.
When Jori burst in with Jamie's half naked body, Jane gasped and turned
white.
"Don't you dare faint on me, young lady!" Dolly ordered her.
"Bring him right to the sofa, Jori. Jane, you run upstairs and get
blankets, lots of them. And you, Hank, I'm going to need a sewing kit
for that wound.
Some water and ~ome alcohol to clean him up, and maybe a little for the
lieutenant to sip. My, that's a mean and nasty bash!" Hank was on his
way out. Jane was still staring in horror. "Move!" Dolly commanded her.
In a moment the young woman was back with blankets. Jon draped them
around Jamie and rubbed his feet. Hank ~turned with water and a sewing
kit, and Dolly began to clean the wound. A long gash ran into the left
side of Jamie's temple.
"It's amazing he's still breathing!" Dolly murmured. "He's Missouri
tough," Jon told her.
"He'll make it, you'll see."
"I intend to do my best to see that he does," Dolly assured Jon. She
looked at him anxiously.
"What about Tess.9" Jon shook his head.
"I don't know. I had' to get him back here before he died. I'm going
back out to see what I can find." He liftext his hat to Dolly and left.
At the door he paused and looked back.
"Now, don't you let him die."
"I'm just going to sew him up. And I'm going to pray." Jon hurried out.
But when he returned to the river, he discovered that whoever had
attacked Jamie and Tess had made an escape through the water. He would
need daylight to track them. There was nothing he could do that night.
But maybe there was. It was late, but saloons had a tendency to cater to
the late crowd. Maybe he could find out more from casual conversation
over a poker game than he could from a broken branch.
He turned the pinto toward town.
Jamie's d~s were occasionally dark and occasionally erotic, but always
fevered.
He fought giants with buffalo headdresses. Then the battle would fade
away, the powder would dissipate, the roar of the guns would cease. He
wasn't fighting Yankees anymore, he tried to tell himself in his dream
world. He was a Yankee, dressed in blue. He was a specialist in Indian
affairs, a linguist. And he knew Indians. He hadn't needed Jon Red
Feather to tell him that the Apache didn't like scalping. It was a
contaminating thing to them, and it had to be done with 191 careful
ritual. He should have known from the very beginning that the woman
hadn't lied.
The woman. Tess. And the Yankees were gone, and the Indians were gone,
and he was lying by still, cool waters, and she was walking toward him.
Her hair was like the sun, falling in soft, delicate tendrils over her
breasts and down her back, and her smile was at once wistful and
innocent and full of the most alluring promise. She knelt beside him and
her fingers touched him, raking gently over his naked flesh. He couldn't
take his eyes from her. Her eyes were so giving, velvet and deep, deep
blue, and startling in their honesty. He had thought that she would run,
but she had not. And now, no matter whether he woke or slept, she was
with him, the sun- ray webs of honey-gold hair spinning around him and
wrapping him in the sweetest splendor.
Her breath was soft against him. She leaned over him, and her breasts
brushed against his chest, and he groaned aloud and waited. He wanted to
pull her beneath him. He wanted to see her eyes widen and darken to
mauve with the startling strength of passion. He wanted to feel her arms
wrap around him.
But the smoke was coming again. The powder. And people were shouting;
they were at war again. The war was over, but the fighting hadn't ended.
It was the Indians. It wasn't the Indians. That was it. They could dress
up all they chose, but they were not Indians. They had Tess. he couldn't
remember. yes! They had Tess, they had ridden away with her. By God!
What they would do with her! He awoke and jerked up. A staggering pain
seized his temple, and he cried out hoarsely, grabbing his head. The
pain slowly subsided to a dull thudding, and he opened his Jori was
sitting in front of him, watching him. Jamie groaned again.
"what the hell happened? Where's Tess?"
"Von Heusen's pseudo-Comancbe," Jon said calmly, still studying him;
Alarmed, beginning to remember much more clearly everything that had
happened, Jamie sat up. He saw that his legs were bare, that he had only
been covered with blankets, and he saw that Dolly and Jane and Hank were
hovering anxiously behind Jon. He gritted his teeth against the new pain
that had come with his movement, frowning.
"Tess?"
"She was gone."
"Gone! And you didn't go for her"
"Wait a minute, my friend," Jori warned him.
"You were supposed to have been dead--that's the way they left you.
You would have been dead, if I hadn't brought you here. I couldn't trail
them in the dark"--" You can trail anyone!" Jamie savagely reminded him.
" Not when they ran the river, not without some light," Jon said'.
"But I did find out where they're taking her."
"Where?"
Jamie exploded. The sound of the word seemed to reverberate in his
skull, and he grabbed it in an effort to ease the savagepain.
"They're taking her to the Comancheros. And the Comancheros are taking
her to a renegade Apache chief down in Mexico named Nalte."
Jamie grabbed a blanket and staggered to his feet. Dolly cried out
softly then scolded him, "Jamie Slater. What do you think you're doing?
You can't go anywhere" -- Jon had risen, too.
"Sit down, Jamie. rll go."
"No! It's my fault they took her. I'm going after her."
"You're in no condition" -- "I'm in damn fine condition!" Jamie roared.
The sound of his own voice ravaged his temple. He shook his head.
"I
need my pants. And if you don't want to be offend&t, Jane and Dolly, I
need you two ladies to disappear. Now!"
"Jamie Slater" -- Dolly began. But he was already rising.
"Jamie" -- She turned around, pinkening. Jane let out a little gasp and
went tearing up the stairs.
"Want to wait until I've got some clothes for you?" Jon asked dryly.
"I'll throw something down the stairs," Dolly said. She let out an
indignant little snort.
"Although what good you think you're going to do that girl when you can
barely hold your head up, I don't know." "I'll be with him," Jon said.
Dolly was heading up the stairs.
"I'll go saddle up your horse," Hank told Jamie, heading out.
Jamie nodded his thanks, then confronted Jon.
"You can't come with me. I need you here."
"You can't ride alone. You're in no shape to do so."
"Then I'll let you come as far as the border. Maybe we'll catch up with
them before that. If not, you'll have to turn back.
Jon, once I go after Tess, you'll be the only one who can stand against
yon Heusen here. You've got to do it." He shuddered and sat on the sofa.
"Comancheros! She could already be dead! And after yon Heusen's men" --
He broke off, white, panicked.
"I'll kill him," he swore.
"I'll kill yon Heusen with my bare hands, and every other man who came
near her.
Jesus, Jon, it was my own damned fault"--" This was going on long before
you came into it, Jamie. They meant to kill her on that wagon train. And
it's not as bad as you think. Von Heusen's men won't touch her, and the
Comancheros won't touch her, because Nalte wants his golden blond for
himself, so I learned at the saloon."
" At the saloon?"
"There's a whore there named Rosy who knows yon Heusen well--personally,
that is. Every once in a while yon Heusen sends for her, and she goes
out to his ranch. Last time she was there, he was sending out messages
and making plans. This Nalte has always wanted a blond woman for a
bride. You know the Apache. They usually only take one wife, unless they
consider themselves well able to afford more than one. Nalte does very
well. He has an Indian bride, but he wants a white woman, too. A blond
white woman. And his requirements go a little further. He wants an
innocent white woman."
Jamie stared at Jori blankly, then his face began to pale again.
Jon frowned, then slowly sucked in his breath.
"She isn't an innocent white woman any more, is that it?"
"Jamie Slater, here are your pants!" Dolly cried, dropping a pair of
trousers down the staircase. Jamie wrapped the blanket around his waist
and went to retrieve them. His hands were shaking as he stumbled into
his pants.
Dolly tossed down a shirt, and he shrugged it on also. "Jamie?" Jon
said.
Jamie paused, looking at his friend.
"Maybe they won't know. I doubt it's something that Tess is going to
rush around telling them," Jori suggested.
"First, yon Heusen's men are going to have to be damned afraid of him
not to hurt her," Jamie said.
"Then the Comancheros. Who the hell ever trusted a Comanchero?" He
strode to the sofa and stared at Jori.
"I've got to catch up with them before they get to this Nalte. Or I'll
have to try to talk to Nalte himself."
"Yes, you'll very definitely have to talk to him," Jon said gravely.
"And carefully, Jamie. Nalte will not be easy to deal with. He's watched
wars and treaties go by for years, and he is a law entirely unto
himself. He eschews everything white--except for the white men's guns,
horses and women.
He moved his people into the mountains when the white men took over the
plains, rather than have to deal with them.
"He keeps to the old ways. His women do not buy cotton for their
dresses, and his scouts do not wear cotton shirts. He moves about in a
breech clout as do his braves in summer, in winter he warms himself with
hides and furs.
He is also intelligent, astute and very dangerous--an Apache to the
core."
Hank had come in.
"You need the cavalry," he said. Jamie shook his head.
"No, Hank. No. If I do that, they might ?dll her. If I don't catch up
with them before they hand her over to Nalte, I'll have to speak with
him personally and convince him to give her back. I_t's our only
chance." Listen Hank, yon Heusen is going to think that he has both Tess
and me out of the picture. If anyone comes around, act as if you haven't
seen either of us. That lawyer will let out the information about the
will, and that will stall yon Heusen for a little while."
He paused, then strode over to the big desk, sat and drew out a piece of
paper. He wrote on it quickly.
"Now Hank, you make sure that this telegraph gets out today, you
understand?
It's real important."
"Yes, Lieutenant Slater, I understand."
"Good. Jon will be back soon, and if I've any luck at all, I'll bring
Tess home to you again." He paused.
"If not, Hank, you hold tight. Help will come. Von Heusen isn't going to
win this one." He stood again, gritting his teeth.
I'll be damned in hell a thousand times over before I let yon Heusen win
this one!" He strode around the desk again in his bare feet.
"Hank, I need a pair of boots that will fit me."
"Sure thing, Lieutenant.
I'll find you something." Jamie nodded.
"Jon--I need new guns."
In silence, Jon left to fulfill the request. They'd come with plenty of
guns, and he would know what Jamie wanted and what he needed.
Twenty minutes later the guns were assembled and Jon and Jamie were
ready to ride out. Dolly had made some coffee, and Jamie drank some
quickly, wincing as the hot liquid filled him. He felt a twitch at his
temple and felt the stitches there for the first time.
"You sewed me up, Dolly?"
"As pretty as a young girl's ball gown, Jamie."
"Thanks."
They moved outside. Jamie and Jon mounted with the others looking on.
"You bring Tess home now, you hear?" Hank said. "Please, please, bring
her home!" Jane added, her large doe eyes wide and damp.
Jamie smiled at Jane.
"I'll bring her home. I promise, Jane. I'll bring her home, or I'll die
trying."
off.
The sun was rising already. It was falling in orange and gold splotches
across the dry earth. Beyond them, it shimmered upon the mesas.
He'd been out a long time, Jamie reckoned. And von Heusen's men had
already had Tess for a long time.
His muscles clenched tight, his jaw locked, he damned himself again and
again for what had happened. He should have been more careful. They
never should have had the opportunity to sneak up on him. Hell, if he'd
been that careless during the war, he'd have been dead half a dozen
times over.
He'd always been so damned good: he could hear a twig drop in a forest,
he could hear the rustle of trees when it wasn't just the wind, he could
hear bare footsteps against the dry ~rth. But when it had mattered, he
had failed.
He'd failed Tess. He'd forgotten everything, staring into her
violet-hued eyes, feeling her against him, hearing the whisper of her
voice, the tremor of her words. He'd just had to prove something.
She'd been so aloof, and he'd been so angry, and he hadn't known why.
Because she'd tried to draw away, and he hadn't been about to tolerate
it.
No, he hadn't been about to let it happen.
He had just wanted her, and he hadn't wanted her to escape him.
He was falling in love with her.
So what? he mocked himself. He hadn't wanted to do so. He hadn't
suggested that she marry him--he'd just wanted to touch her. To sleep
with her. To feel her beneath him, her breath coming in a desperate
rush, her hips and thighs moving, her eyes, those eyes, so wide and
still, sultry u
pon his. But he hadn't been able to let her walk away
from him. He just hadn't been able to give her time.
And so she was gone.
He felt his jaw lock anew. She had infuriated him. No matter how he
touched her, she could hold herself aloof.
And his anger and determination had brought them both down.
Damn!
He didn't know that he had cast back his head and cried the word aloud
with anguish until he saw that Jori was watching him. Until he saw the
pity on his friend's bold features.
"It's too late for recriminations, my friend," Jon said quietly.
"Yeah. Too late."
"If you want her back, you'd better forget your feelings. You can't make
any more mistakes." "I won't," Jamie said.
"You should let me go alone."
"A half-breed Blackfoot? The Apache won't like you any better then
they're going to like me."
"Nalte isn't going to be fond of either of us." "I can deal with Nalte,"
Jamie said. He spun'ed his horse forward, calling to Jon to follow him.
He would deal with Nalte. One way or another, he would get Tess back.
One way or another.
Comancberos.
They lined the dry, dusty hilltop that overlooked the desert, seeming to
go on forever, covering the horizon. A hundred of them, at least.
Her hands tied before her, Tess sat in her buckskins in front of
Jeremiah on his big horse. She didn't know how long or how far they had
ridden that day, but they had finally come to this desert that stretched
to the mountains-- a beautiful area, with myriad colors, a barren,
forbidding area where the vultures sat upon the branches of the few
scrawny trees, where cactus eked out an existence, where most life was
lived in the cool that settled over the golden landscape by night. Soon,
the terrain would change again, as they entered the mountains.
They were already in the land of the Apache. And Tess was realizing how
little she knew of this feared tribe. She knew they were fierce, and
that they did not go to reservations. She had read that President Grant
had initiated a "peace policy" toward the Apache this year, but that
meant one thing in Washington, quite another here. Apache. it took an
Apache to track an Apache, so they said. Once Cochise had been a captive
of the American Army, but the trap had infuriated him. He had drawn his
knife, slit apart the tent--and disappeared. An entire cavalry company