moving magic upon her. His kiss touched her, searingly hot. The cool
water lapped over her feet and ankles, but the whole of her was achingly
hot, a fire against the water. His lips touched her bare belly, and the
arches of her feet, and her knees and her thighs. And then he kissed her
warmly, intimately, at the very heart of her desire, kissed her body as
he would kiss her lips, demanding all and giving her ecstasy in turn.
And still the cool stream washed against her. In the end she rose
against him, and they knelt together in the shallows in the night, and
her breasts moved against his chest as their lips fused once again, and
then the fullness of their bodies. She led him down then to the rich
earth, and crawled atop him, her hair a blaze of sunset kissed by the
moon, ~r movements smooth and sultry as the touch of golden locks swung
over his chest and belly.
In the magic of the night, to the rough and urgent murmurings of his
husky voice, she rode the magic of the darkness, and of the man, until
the beauty exploded within them and around them, until the sweet
satiation and exhaustion seized them, until they were filled with one
another. Only then did she fall against him. She didn't care about the
future or the past; she only knew that she had come to him because she
had wanted him. And because she loved him.
Nothing else mattered, for she had learned that time and life and love
were precious, and this night she had all three.
They were silent together as the moon cast its gentle glow on them.
He stroked her hair softly and at long last he whispered, "It's
true--Nalte sent you to me?" She nodded happily against his chest.
"It's true," she whispered.
"Thank God," he breathed.
"He's very upset."
"He is?"
"He doesn't like the idea that von Heusen has been causing so much
trouble.
He told me that the Apache raid, and that they make war, and that these
are separate things. They raid for foodstuffs and other things they
need, they do not raid to kill. When they make war, they do so to kill.
But they do not kill children, and they do not slaughter animals
needlessly. He says there is enough trouble between the 245 whites and
the Indians. He doesn't usually have much use for the Comanche himself,
and the tribes have warred for generations, but he cannot see the
Comanche blamed for a white man's sins."
"You had quite a long talk with him," Jamie commented.
"Jealous?" she asked sweetly.
He grunted.
She braced her hands upon his chest, staring deeply into his eyes.
"I
like him, Jamie."
Jamie laced his fingers behind his head as he watched her eyes.
"Want to stay with him?" he asked.
Words, gentle words, self-betraying words, hovered on Tess's lips. I
like Nalte, but I love you, she almost said. But she could not dispel
the memory of Eliza hanging on to him, trying to force him to love her
in return. She would never do that, she swore. It was dangerous to fall
in love with Jamie Slater.
If nothing else, Tess wanted her dignity left to her.
She forced a smile to her lips and asked lightly, "Trying to get rid of
me?"
"You are a hell of a lot of trouble," he told her frankly. "Yes, but
you've already come this far."
"So I have."
"And I really am worth it."
"Are you?" His eyebrows shot up.
She nodded. Then she moved very low against him again. She let her hair
float over his chest as she lowered her lips to his slick bronze flesh.
She shimmied her body against him as she inched lower down the length of
his body, her thighs locked around him, moving sinuously against him.
She felt the quick rasp of his breath, and she let her lips linger upon
the spot where she could hear the frantic beating of his heart.
Then she moved lower and lower, daring to touch him instinctively,
exploring what was intensely male about him with little subtlety and
tremendous fascination. Her body undulated upon his. She discovered her
own prowess and power, and drove him nearly to madness. All that he had
demanded of her she took in return. He shuddered violently beneath her
touch, his fingers digging into the earth when she caressed him as
boldly with her lips and tongue as he had done to her. He shouted out
hoarsely, and she was soon pinned to the earth as he took her almost
savagely, with a driving, explicit hunger that seemed to rend the very
heavens.
And when the stars had exploded to dance within the night sky and go
still again, he whispered tenderly against her ear, "My love, you are
worth it indeed."
They stayed by the water a little while longer. Whatever came in the
future, Tess knew that she would dream of this place as long as she
lived.
She began to shiver, and he covered her in the doeskin dress once again,
and then he suggested that they return to the tepee in the village.
They slept that night alone together in the teix~ where she had been
taken earlier that day. They slept, having shed their clothing once
again, wound into one another's arms within the warm shelter of an
Apache blanket.
When morning came, they were still together.
During the next few days, they were Nalte's honored guests. They
attended the ceremonies for his sister, Little Flower, and Tess was
amazed to find that she had discovered a strange peace here, living with
the Apache. Nalte spent time with the two of them. Sometimes he ignored
Tess and engaged in long conversations with Jamie in his Apache tongue.
But sometimes he spoke in English, including Tess. Once, when they were
alone, Jamie having gone to join a bunting party, Nalte took it upon
himself to teach her something about the Apache ways.
He explained to her about the Gan," or Mountain Spirit Dancers. In their
masks, they impersonated the Mountains Spirits. They evoked the power of
the supernaturals to cure illness, drive away evil and bring good
fortune. They assembled in a cave, and under the guidance of a special
Gan shaman, they donned their sacred costumes. They held great power,
and therefore they were obliged to honor severe restrictions.
They were not to recognize friends once they were in their attire, nor
were they to dance incorrectly or to tamper with the sacred costume or
clothing once it had been left within a secret cache. To disobey any of
the restrictions could bring calamity down upon the dancer or his family
or tribe. To disobey could bring about sickness, madness, even death.
"We are a people of ritual," he told her.
"We celebrate the Holiness Rite and the Ceremonial Relay. For the
Holiness Rite the shaman must go through arduous procedures, imitating
the bear and the snake, and curing the people of the powerful bear and
snake sicknesses.
The Ceremonial Relay tells us of our food supply--game and the harvest
of nature. Runners symbolize the sun and the animals, and the moon and
the plants. If the sun runners win, game will be in plenty for u
s. If
the moon runners win, then we will feast on the harvest of the plants."
"You live a good life here," Tess said.
"I live a good life, yes, but I fear the day when white men come to take
it from me."
"But surely, here" -- "They will come, the white men will come. War will
tear apart the mountains, and blood will stain the rivers. It is
inevitable.
But when the time comes, I will remember you, and Slater, and I will
know that all whites are not the same. Yes, it is good here. Now. And
you, I think that you are at She smiled at him.
"I do not believe it, but yes, I am at peace here."
Nalte stared at the fire that burned in the center of the village.
"You might have been happy had you stayed," he said quietly.
"And maybe not. Our women are the gatherers. The first green vegetables
are the yucca, and the women collect them. Then they must collect the me
seal stalks and roast them and grind them into paste. We eat the mescal
as paste, and as the cakes you have been given with your meals. It is a
hard life."
"A ranch is a hard life. And so is a newspaper," Tess said softly.
She looked at him quickly.
"A newspaper" -- "I know what a newspaper is. I lived in a town for many
years when I was a child. I was captured with a war party and taken in
by a minister's wife. I learned a lot about your society. A newspaper is
a powerful weapon."
"It isn't a weapon at all," Tess protested. "More powerful than a gun.
Be careful with it," Nalte warned her. Then he asked her if she was
Jamie's wife. She flushed as she told him that she was not.
"But you are his woman," Nalte told her.
"It--it isn't the same thing," she said.
The Indian was lowering his head, smiling, and she remembered belatedly
that he had chosen to let her go because of Jamie.
"When an Apache marries, he goes to his wife's family. If she lives in a
distant territory, then the man leaves and joins her family. Within it
he may rise to be the leader, then he may become the leader of many
families, and ultimately a great chief. But always, when it is possible,
he joins his wife's family. He works for his wife's parents and elders,
and he is known by them as 'he who carries burdens for me."
He speaks for her, and the man and the woman exchange gifts. A separate
dwelling is made for the couple. She is his wife.
"But I tell you, Sun-Colored Woman, that it is the same among the Apache
and the whites. When a man loves a woman, when he claims her for his
own, when he is willing to give his life and his pride and his honor for
her, that is when she is truly his wife, in his eyes and in the eyes of
the 249 great spirits, be they our gods or the one great God of the
whites." He touched her cheek almost tenderly, then left her. She
thought about his words for a long time to come, and she wondered if
Jamie did love her. Did he love her enough to stay with her, or would he
tire of her, as he had tired of Eliza?
She had made love with him always of her own volition. She had wanted
him as she had never known want before.
But sometimes she wished that she had never given in to the temptation,
for she felt that she had tasted forbidden fruit.
She had found it very sweet, but she would perish when she could taste
it no longer. ~ Nights were theirs. She never spoke, but came to him
with her skin warmed by the fire, her body bathed by the stream, her
hair soft and fragrant from the sun. She lay down be- side him, and she
loved him, and she tried not to think of the future.
On the fourth night of Little Flower's puberty rite, when the maiden had
become a woman, Jamie was silent, holding her gently, staying
motionless.
Tess knew that he didn't sleep, and she shifted against him, asking him
what was wrong.
"We're free to go home tomorrow," she whispered to him.
"Yes, or the next day," be said absently.
"Nalte has been involved with his sister and us. He may be busy with
tribal business tomorrow."
"what difference will a day make?"
He shook his head, still staring toward the top of the tepee and the
poles that seemed to reach toward the stars.
"A
day will not make a difference. Nothing will a make a difference.
That's the point. When we go home, Tess, von Heusen is still going to be
there. And we still haven't any proof of what he is doing."
"But--but Jeremiah and David kidnapped me--and they left you for dead!"
Tess protested.
"Jeremiah and David are dead. They can't be brought to trial, and they
can't be forced to testify against von Heusen.
We're right back where we started. And I know you. You'll head right
back to that newspaper office of yours."
"Jamie, I have to!"
"You don't have to!" he told her savagely. "Jamie" -- "We're going back,
Tess, and we're going to fight yon Heusen. But we have to do it by my
rules."
"I don't" -- "That's right--you don't. You don't make a move without
someone by your side, do you understand me? Things are going to get
worse. Von Heusen may be thinking right now that you and I are gone. He
won at last. But Tess, by now he must have discovered that he can't get
his hands on that property, even if we're both believed to be dead and
gone. He's going to be furious when he finds it's willed to my
family--and he's going to be ready for a full- scale war. We've got to
pray that we're going to be ready for it."
"Can we be?" Tess whispered.
"Yes, we can," he said. But then he swung around on her, staring at her
fiercely, clutching her chin with a grip so tight that it was painful.
"But Tess, so help me God, you'll do it my way."
"Jamie" -- "You'll do it my way?"
"Fine! All right!" she snapped.
He dropped her jaw. Tears were stinging her eyes, and she quickly rolled
away from him, furious that no matter how close it seemed they became,
he still played the dictator. And left her frightened that she was
falling more and more deeply in love with a man who would wage war for
her, who would risk his life for her. And yet ride away in the end, when
it mattered the most.
He did not reach for her, and she did not come back to touch him that
night.
Her back was mid, and she drew the blanket more fully around her.
She shivered in the night. But the distance remained between them.
They spent one more day with the Apache, watching the sacred ritual when
a young boy departed with his first hunting party. The boy's first four
raids would be accompanied by ritual. This day he was instructed by the
war shaman and accepted by the adult members of the party. He was given
a drinking tube and a scratcher with lightning designs, and he was
bestowed with a war cap.
Jamie spoke to her while they stood watching. He pointed to the war cap
and told her, "It will not yet contain the spiritual power that belongs
to the men. He must complete his passage before
the spirits will enter
into his cap." The men and women of the village were gathering around
the boy to throw pollen upon him as be departed with the warriors.
"It is a blessing," Jamie told her.
"And we are standing here, watching this, and these men and that boy
will go off and raid some white settlement and perhaps kill our own
kind," Tess murmured. Jamie glared at her.
"I'll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself. We're lucky to be
leaving here alive. And, Miss. Stuart, for your information, this party
is moving against the Comancheres. I don't believe you can feel too much
sympathy for that particular group."
She could not, but she didn't have a chance to tell him so. He turned
her around and propelled her toward the tepee they were sharing.
"Go in, be quiet. I'm going to ask Nalte if we might leave tomorrow."
She didn't hear, that afternoon, whether Nalte gave his permission.
She waited endlessly for Jamie to return, but he did not. When it was
dark one of the Apache women came to help her rekindle the fire and to
give her a plate of beef and yams and roe seal cakes. She ate
halfheartedly and waited, but Jamie still didn't return. Finally her
impatience brought her to the opening in the tent, and she looked out to
see Jamie and Nalte and the victorious raiding party sitting around the
central fire, laughing, talking, enjoying some newly arrived bottles of
whiskey, and apparently enjoying one another as if they were long lost
friends. In a fury she went to the fire and called Jamie's name sharply.
Every man there paused and stared at her, none of them more surprised or
annoyed than Jamie. Nalte shot him a quick glance and said something in
Apache. Jamie was quickly on his feet. He replied casually to the chief,
but two rugged strides brought him to Tess.
Before she could move or react he had butted her belly with his shoulder
and lifted her precariously. Her head dangled dangerously down his back.
She screamed out her protest, but Jamie ignored her and the Apache
laughed, enjoying the show.
Within seconds they were back in the tepee. She landed hard on one of
the blankets, desperately inhaling as he stared at her furiously. She
might have thought at first that he was drunk, but the sharp fire in his
eyes denied such a possibility. She accused him anyway before he could