After The Lies

by Mandessa Selby

  Jonas stepped aside and Luc walked closer to the dock just as the gangway was being dropped into position. Once it was open, he walked up onto the ship and asked to see the captain.

  * * *

  Callie was curled on her side, her eyes half open, her hand cupped under her cheek. She felt satiated and drowsy with his love-making. The knock on the door startled them both because of its lateness.

  Luc pulled on his robe to answer the door. He walked through the bedroom and into the parlor. Distantly, Callie heard the sound of voices. Luc laughed and Callie wondered what had so caught his attention.

  She closed her eyes, thinking of nothing but having him back at her side. Every moment she spent with him was to be savored and tucked into her heart for the future. Once they were back at Fort Duncan they would revert to their former situation. She couldn’t think of a time when he would no longer be hers and she hated the thought that she would be alone again.

  Luc entered the bedroom and she watched him through half-closed eyes. A red cloud descended on her, feeling good on her bare skin. The cloud smelled beautiful. She didn’t know the scents, but she inhaled them deeply. She opened her eyes and sat up. Luc sat on the edge of the mattress grinning at her.

  “This is so soft.”

  “The finest silk from the Orient, meant only to grace the skin of the most beautiful women.”

  Callie smiled at him. She hugged the cloud of fabric to her breasts. She snaked her hand around his arm and pulled him toward her. “Make love to me on this silk.” She wanted to feel him and the silk against her skin at the same time.

  He undid the belt at his waist and tossed his robe on a chair and reached for her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rafe watched as the war party raced around the outside of the village hooting and screaming. As they calmed and came into the village, Rafe confronted the leader of the party, Red Claw, who boasted of his kills. The Mexican bandit, Juan Valenzuela, smirked at Rafe as he dismounted from his horse.

  “What is the matter with you?” Rafe demanded of Red Claw. Anger consumed him. “Our war is with the army. You risk our future by attacking men doing nothing but trying to feed their own families.”

  Red Claw snarled. “Who cares. They were Mexicans carrying gold.”

  Rafe couldn’t believe that Red Claw had taken a great risk that could bring the Mexican government down on their heads. “You stole Mexican gold?”

  “Gold is gold. Gold buys weapons.” Valenzuela said.

  Rafe stared at the two men. “Do you understand what you have done?” Allowing the Mexican bandit into camp had been a mistake. He had come with grand ideas on how the Comanche could help him with his own war, and in return he would help them with theirs.

  Red Claw glared at Rafe. “I did what any warrior would do. I met my enemy and killed them all.”

  Fool Rafe thought. Mexico was not their enemy. “Your raid will do nothing but make our job harder.”

  “You have the soul of a rabbit,” Red Claw beat on his chest. “The army doesn’t care about Mexico.”

  “But Mexico cares about Mexico. And the U.S. Army isn’t going to stand in their way if they are hunting us too.” Rafe reached for his knife, but his wife stopped him. “You have added to the list of our enemies. We’re barely one step ahead of the Blue Coats. And now you have given the Mexicans a reason to join the fight against us. I will kill you.”

  Valenzuela jumped out of the way, a startled expression on his face. “I am Mexico, and I have helped you in your battle with the army. You have much to thank me for, including your friend at the fort. If not for me, you would not have the information he has provided for you. If not for me, you would not have a way to even contact him.”

  Willow touched his arm. “Husband, they are not worth your time. Do not insult your knife with their blood.” She pulled her own knife from the scabbard. “Let me kill Red Claw. He is nothing more than a coward at heart.”

  Red Claw glared at Rafe. “You will allow a woman to fight your battles?”

  Willow growled deep in her throat. She looked so fierce and protective, Rafe wanted to allow her the kill. But he couldn’t. The tribe needed all their warriors including a coward like Red Claw who killed innocent men to prove himself brave.

  Rafe shook Willow’s hand off his arm and laughed. Red Claw’s face contorted with fury. “You took young, inexperienced warriors against an enemy of unknown strength. That is not bravery, but an attempt to look like a man in the eyes of boys. You’re not strong, just lucky.”

  “I will kill you.” Red Claw stepped back.

  “You will try,” Rafe replied. “If you think you can challenge me then do so now.” Rafe crossed his arms over his chest. “Otherwise, I have no time for you.”

  Red Claw glanced around at the crowd which had surrounded them. Many of the men looked stern and disapproving, and the women watched Red Claw with menace deep in their eyes. They all understood what was at stake and Red Claw had done.

  Night Feather pushed through the crowd and stood in front of Red Claw. “You have disgraced your name. You’ve chosen to disobey my orders.”

  Red Claw bared his teeth. “I did what a warrior should do, fight his enemy.”

  Night Feather glanced at Willow’s knife. “As far as I am concerned, you are still a child. And until you have learned to be a warrior, I will have nothing to do with you.” Night Feather turned his back to Red Claw. Slowly the other members of the tribe did the same, turning away from him.

  Rafe watched a mixture of emotions cross Red Claw’s face. He felt sorry for the man who had started out with such noble thoughts and was now being shunned. Valenzuela was escorted from the camp by two warriors and put astride his horse and sent on his way despite his loud protests.

  Willow glared at Red Claw and tapped Rafe on the shoulder. She turned to face away from Red Claw and Rafe found himself following suit. When the tribe had drifted away, Rafe headed toward his horse.

  “Where are you going?” Willow asked him as he jumped astride his horse.

  “We cannot keep this gold. I must find a way to return it.” He angled

  his horse toward the desert. He had to get away or he’d kill Red Claw.

  * * *

  Buzzards circled the sky. Callie shaded her eyes with her hand. “Something’s dead.” They’d been following fresh wagon ruts for two days. She pointed them out to Luc.

  “The army isn’t due for another supply train for a month.”

  “Maybe this isn’t army.” Callie spurred her horse forward and they trotted over a rise to confront a field littered with dead animals and over-turned wagons. Five graves with twigs formed in the sign of a cross had been lined up beneath the leaves of a large cottonwood.

  A man with a slouch hat and worn clothes, using a branch for a crutch, limped out onto the road and took a deep sigh. He waved at them.

  Luc reined his horse to a halt. “Sir, what happened here?”

  Callie could see this little wagon train had seen a heap of trouble.

  The short Mexican man took off his straw hat. “A troop of seven Comanche with a Mexican came out of nowhere. They attacked us and took our supplies and our gold.”

  Luc glanced around at the devastation. “What is your name?”

  “My name is Hector Portillo,” the man said with a thick Mexican accent in his voice.

  Luc and Callie dismounted their horses. “Where were you headed,” Luc asked.

  “My orders were to take the gold to Austin.”

  Luc handed the reins of his horse to Callie. “You should have requested an escort.”

  The man spat at the ground. “Our escort never showed up. Waited two days at the border, but no one came. So we crossed the river and hoped for the best.” He dug into his pocket and handed Luc a letter. Luc read it, his eyes moving over the paper swiftly. When he folded the letter and put it in his pocket, his jaw was tight with a deep tension.

  Luc frowned at the man. “Why didn’t you just
head for the nearest fort?”

  The man spat at the ground near Callie’s boots. “The army gringos didn’t come when they said they would. I wasn’t going to trust them again.”

  “Did you wait for the army?”

  “For three days.” He glared at Luc.

  Callie wished she knew of a way to help him, but knew he couldn’t settle Mexican-American relations in a day. They needed to get out of here in case the Comanches decided to come back and check their handy work.

  Luc took the reins of her horse from her and handed them to the other man. “Mr. Portillo, I can see you’re wounded and in need of medical care. We’re less than a day from medical help, food and a clean bed at Fort Duncan. I’m not leaving you out here alone and vulnerable.” He got on his horse and extended his hand. “Climb up here behind me.”

  His first order to her as her commanding officer since they left New Orleans. They were back to their original roles and Callie mourned the easy camaraderie they’d developed. She had hoped for a few more days of his companionship.

  She climbed up behind Luc. She closed her eyes. New Orleans was a distant dream, a fantasy gone like smoke on the wind. She thought of the clothes Luc had arranged to ship back to her village. Her fingers craved to caress the silks and satins, to bring back the evenings spent in fancy restaurants. He’d even taken her to the opera even though she hadn’t had no idea of what was being said. The music has been so beautiful, she’d cried. She had to refocus her mind on her goals.

  She kept the dream of land in her mind for the next two days. They were torture, being close to Luc and being unable to touch him with the man they had picked up on the trail.

  * * *

  While Luc was in a meeting with General Hammond and the senior officers of the fort to discuss the situation with the Mexican gold, Callie sat with Esme on the front porch of Luc’s quarters. Esme looked very pretty in a green silk gown that almost matched her eyes. “How was your journey to New Orleans?” She sat in a slatted chair on the veranda in front of Luc’s quarters her sketch pad across her lap and her fingers smudged with charcoal. A floppy hat shaded her face. Callie sat on the step and looked across the parade ground toward Luc’s office. He’d been there all morning catching up on all the activities that had happened during the weeks they’d been gone.

  “Why are you always so nice to me?” Callie inquired of Esme.

  Esme gave her a languid smile. “You have adventures I can never have.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Esme smiled, a faraway look in her eyes. “You don’t wear a dress. You hunt, shoot, ride a horse like a man and you never have to fight to be respected. People respect you automatically because they think you’re a man. That kind of respect must be intoxicating. For me, respect is a game and I have to beat the men before they will give me the littlest crumb. Men think that admiration is enough to keep a woman happy. But we really want respect, equality and dignity. You have these. The soldiers here respect you and your abilities. They trust you with their lives. No man on this post, but Luc, would do that for me simply because I wear a dress.”

  Callie didn’t know what to say. “But I live a lie.” So did Luc.

  “Only to fulfill your dream.” Esme sighed. “How much of our past did Luc share with you?”

  “I know everything.” Knowing Luc’s background had changed so much between them.

  “Then you understand the reasons behind our deception.”

  Callie did, but she could help feeling that lie made Luc feel different. “The lie is eating at him.”

  “I know. I want him to resign his commission. But he always has one more task he must accomplish, one more mission to complete. I’d hoped that now he’d made peace with our father, he would be free to find a new life.”

  “But he doesn’t know anything else.”

  “He can go back to Paris, or come with me to San Francisco. He owns land in Canada. He doesn’t have to stay here. He can be what he wants to be.”

  “But why would he want to leave?” Despite Luc’s lie, Callie knew he loved army life. The army was bigger than himself. More important that the little details. For Luc, the army was his tribe, his family, his reason for being. Callie understood that. She had the same feelings toward her tribe, her family. Though for her the army was a means to an end, if she could make this kind of money doing anything else, she’d go.

  “Because I think he must. The army is like reliving his boyhood every day. He gets to ride, shoot and rattle his saber at the enemy. This is so typical of being a man, they are afraid if they grow up they get old.” Esme laughed. “Cal, I believe you and I are too intelligent for our own good.”

  Callie didn’t think she was intelligent, but if Esme thought so, it might be so. “But I don’t know how to read.” Rafe had known how to read and write. He’d promised to teach her, but he’d left instead.

  “My classes are going well, you can join in. You will be reading in no time. Trust me. You just need to know your letters and I can start right now.” She flipped a page on her pad and started writing.

  Callie didn’t know. She’d had little time for book education in her

  village. Only the chief and his wife knew how to read. Why should she?

  Yet she thirsted after knowledge. She wanted to do more than make a mark on a piece of paper in place of her name. She wanted to be worthy of Luc. He could read and write and was a wealthy man. What would he want with a woman who couldn’t read?

  She glanced at Esme whose fingers flew over her sketch pad. For all her lady-like manners, she was a strong woman. Despite the way she looked, Callie didn’t one moment doubt that men respected her. In a different way, maybe, but still they respected her. Callie envied Esme and thought it strange that Esme would envy Callie. Callie had nothing. Esme had everything. The world was a very odd place.

  * * *

  Luc sat across from General Hammond. General Hammond sat at Luc’s desk, frowning as he brought Luc up to date on what had been happening and Esme’s part in it. Luc wasn’t certain he wanted his sister involved any more than she already was.

  The meeting was over. Major Adams was setting up a patrol to head back to the ambushed gold train and see what could be determined from the mess. He’d also sent a messenger to Austin to inform them of what had happened, and sent another messenger along with the survivor back to Mexico.

  The General sat back and the chair tipped slightly. “Our spy appears to have struck again.”

  Luc gazed out the window. A herd of new horses had been delivered and off-duty soldiers hung on the corral fence watching as each animal was separated and then led to the blacksmith for shoeing. “That appears to be the case, sir.”

  “Who would have handled the request for the military escort?”

  “I would have.” He pulled the letter Hector Portillo had given him and handed it to the General. The letter, sent to Hector’s supervisor and promising a military escort, had been signed by Luc himself, or rather someone impersonating Luc. The signature was a good one, but not Luc’s.

  General Hammond quickly read the letter, his face turning thoughtful. He tugged at his mustache. “The signature is a good forgery. Can you tell who signed your name?”

  “I can’t, I don’t have that skill, but I know someone who does.”

  The general leaned forward. “Who?”

  “Esme does.” Luc found himself smiling, remembering when Esme as a student had studied the European masters and then leaned to flawlessly copy them, right down to the artist’s signature. “If not for her career as a portrait artist, I believe she would have made an excellent forger.”

  The General scanned the letter again. “The letter is dated after you left for New Orleans. Sloppy mistake on the spy’s part.” He twisted in the chair. “Who took over your duties?” “Everything was parceled out to all the junior lieutenants.” Luc had a sick feeling in his gut. One of his people was a traitor. Someone he’d worked with and trusted. Who could have
betrayed him? Betrayed their oath to the United States government.

  A horse slammed into the fence and several soldiers shouted. Hammond glanced out the window. “Which means, one of the junior officers on this post could be the traitor. I don’t know if I want to believe that. Anyone could have written this letter, an enlisted man, or even one of your precious Black Seminole scouts.”

  “Maybe,” Luc replied, “but most of them don’t have access to this office or my mail, or have any reason to be in here. As for the scouts, the government has never understood about the Black Seminoles. They have great pride in who and what they are, and simply want the government to fulfill its promises. Once their loyalty is given, it never wavers. Loyalty cannot be bought, but must be earned. The United States tries to buy loyalty.”

  Hammond’s lips thinned as he digested Luc’s information. “How do you know so much about how the Black Seminole thinks?”

  “My scout, Cal Payne.”

  “That fourteen year old boy. They don’t grow them big in Mexico, do they?”

  Luc laughed. Callie grew up just fine in Mexico. She was just the right size. For everything. “He gave me a quick lesson in Indian history. Cal was willing to share what he knew with me. Smart kid. Given half a chance, he’ll go far.”

  “Okay, so the scouts are loyal. Just to be sure, what about your black troops. Many of them are ex-slaves and have ambitions to get ahead.”

  Luc shook his head. “Most of the black troops fought in the war and they’re also loyal. I don’t think we even need to look at the newer recruits. They wouldn’t know how things were done yet. From what I can see, the information being passed would only be known by an officer.”

  “You have four junior lieutenants and one senior lieutenant. That would be Rippy. Major Adams is already checked out and is beyond reproach. I already trust you implicitly. Which one do you think is the spy?”