Apache Flame

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Apache Flame Page 21

by Madeline Baker


  It was, she thought, going to be a long, long day.

  * * * * *

  Mitch sat on the ground between Elk Chaser and Red Clements.

  “Well,” Clements muttered, staring at his bound hands, “ain’t this a hell of a mess.”

  Elk Chaser grunted in agreement. He looked over at the Indian scouts, his eyes dark with hatred.

  Mitch glanced at Elk Chaser. “Do you know if they got away?”

  Elk Chaser shook his head.

  “Why did they attack the village?” Clements wondered aloud. “That’s what I’d like to know.” He looked at Elk Chaser. “Any of your people been making war lately?”

  “The Blue Coats do not need a reason,” Elk Chaser said with a sneer.

  “One of their forts was attacked,” Mitch said. “I overheard two of the troopers talking about it.”

  Elk Chaser grunted. “The Blue Coats cannot tell one tribe from another. They will not rest until they have wiped our people from the earth.”

  Mitch swore softly. At least Alisha was alive and well. One of the cavalry officers would look after her, see that she made it home. He closed his eyes. His head hurt, his shoulder hurt. He was hot and thirsty and tired. “Anybody got any ideas about how to get out of this?”

  “I don’t have an idea in hell,” Clements said, “but we’d better think of one afore we get to the Fort. I ain’t lookin’ forward to no jail time. I got people waitin’ on me, dependin’ on me.”

  A faint smile curved Elk Chaser’s lips. “Rest, my brothers,” he said quietly.

  “You know somethin’ you ain’t tellin’ us?” Clements asked.

  “I know that many of our warriors escaped. They will send the women and children to our brothers in the south, and then they will seek vengeance for our dead.”

  Red Clements looked at Mitch and grinned. “Sounds like there might be another battle.”

  Mitch nodded. “I reckon.”

  * * * * *

  By nightfall, the camp was well established. Guards walked the perimeter, the horses were contained in a rope corral, the prisoners had been fed and were bedded down for the night.

  Alisha had been offered the captain’s tent for the night, but she had refused it. She wanted to be outside, wanted to be able to see Mitch.

  The Apaches had been very quiet. There was no conversation among them. Even the children were silent, their dark eyes wide and watchful, as if they were waiting for something to happen.

  Wrapped up in her blanket, her head pillowed on her arm, Alisha gazed toward the group of captive men. She couldn’t see Mitch in the dark, but it comforted her to know he was nearby.

  She looked up at the vast indigo vault of the sky, picking out the constellations. It reminded her of the summer nights she had snuck out of the house to meet Mitchy down by the creek. They had often stretched out on a blanket, her head pillowed on his shoulder as they watched the stars. She had always been at ease with Mitch. Even back then, she had known she could rely on him, that he would protect her, that she could tell him anything and he would listen. He had been her best friend in all the world. When he left town, he had left behind a huge hole in her life and in her heart that no one had ever been able to fill.

  And now, at long last, she was his wife.

  She fell asleep, clinging to the hope that her son was still alive, that, somehow, they would all be together again.

  * * * * *

  Mitch came awake with a start, not knowing what had roused him. And then he heard it again. A faint cry, like that of a night bird. He turned to look at Elk Chaser and saw that the warrior was awake and staring into the distance.

  “What’s up?” Red Clements whispered.

  Mitch shook his head. “I’m not sure.” His eyes narrowed as he heard the same cry again. He grinned as he glanced over at Clements. “Jailbreak, maybe.”

  * * * * *

  Alisha woke suddenly, glad to escape the nightmare she had been having. It was still dark, and the camp was quiet save for the intermittent snores rising from soldiers.

  Rising, she crept away from the encampment, seeking a place where she could relieve herself. A clump of mesquite a good distance from the camp was the only cover and she ducked behind it, thinking she would never complain about the outhouse back home again.

  She was about to return to her blankets when an arm went round her neck and a large calloused hand covered her mouth, trapping her cry of terror in her throat.

  * * * * *

  Mitch felt a quick sense of fear as a hand holding a knife reached out of the darkness. That fear was quickly replaced by a sense of relief as his bonds were cut.

  Impossible as it seemed, two Apache warriors moved among the captive warriors, cutting them free. Like shadows fleeing the sun, the freed warriors scattered and disappeared into the darkness as if they had never been there.

  Mitch followed Elk Chaser, his heart pounding as he waited for a sentry to raise the alarm, but all remained quiet.

  When they were out of sight of the camp, a warrior appeared leading two horses. Elk Chaser swung aboard the near one, then looked down at Mitch.

  “We will separate and meet at the place of the talking trees.”

  Mitch nodded, then glanced back toward the camp. “Alisha…”

  Elk Chaser looked past Mitch and smiled.

  Turning, Mitch saw two riders coming toward him. Alisha was one of them.

  “At the talking trees,” Elk Chaser said.

  “What of my mother?”

  “She will be there,” Elk Chaser replied. The words, if she can, hovered, unspoken, between them.

  With a wave of his hand, Elk Chaser disappeared into the darkness, along with the warrior who had been holding the horses.

  Mitch swung onto his horse’s back, then rode over to Alisha. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said tremulously. “Are you?”

  A gunshot from the camp was the first indication that their escape had been detected. It was followed by a shrill war cry, and more gunfire. In the flash of gunfire, Mitch saw several warriors firing in the direction Elk Chaser had gone.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here,” Mitch said.

  She didn’t argue. With one hand wrapped around the reins, and the other clinging to the saddle horn, she followed Mitch into the darkness.

  They hadn’t gone far when another horse and rider came into view.

  Mitch swore, thinking the cavalry had found them, then grinned as he recognized Red Clements.

  “This way!” Red hollered. “I know a place where we can hole up ‘til the shooting stops.”

  With a nod, Mitch and Alisha fell in behind him.

  They rode for an hour, alternating between a gallop and a trot. The sun was clearing the horizon when Clements pulled his horse to a halt. Dismounting, he waited for Mitch and Alisha.

  “We walk from here,” Red said.

  Alisha slid gratefully out of the saddle, watched, in open-mouthed astonishment, as Red took a step toward what looked like solid rock and disappeared from sight.

  Mitch grunted softly as he stepped forward, only then realizing that there were actually two huge boulders side by side that appeared to be one solid object. The opening was just wide enough for a horse to pass through.

  Turning, he smiled at Alisha. “Come on.”

  The narrow defile, which was about six feet long, opened into a small grassy space ringed by boulders. Alisha thought it looked like a fairyland, with a carpet of green grass and a tiny pool fed by an underground spring. A few shrubs grew near the water. A bush seemed to grow out of one of the rocks.

  “We’ll rest here a mite,” Clements said.

  “How did you find this place?” Alisha asked.

  “My wife’s people use it for a hideout from time to time.” Clements patted his horse on the shoulder, then removed the bridle and gave the animal a swat on the rump. Alisha grinned as she recognized Sophie.

  Mitch removed the bridle from his mou
nt, too, then turned and helped her from the back of her horse. It was then she realized her horse was the only one wearing a saddle. Mitch quickly unfastened the cinch, removed the saddle and bridle, and turned her horse loose to graze with the other two.

  “Do you think the others got safely away?” Alisha asked.

  Clements nodded. “Sure. Them ‘Paches know their way around this desert the way a woman knows her way around her kitchen.”

  “What about the women?”

  Clements chuckled. “They’ll be all right. I reckon their men will go after them soon as they regroup.” Clements looked at Mitch and frowned. “You look all done in.”

  “Yeah, that’s how I feel, too.”

  Clements removed a small pile of rocks, dug down a foot or so, and pulled out a bundle, which turned out to be a buffalo robe. Inside the robe were several small buckskin pouches. He opened one and pulled out several hunks of dried venison. He handed one to Alisha and one to Mitch, then spread the buffalo robe on a flat stretch of ground and sat down.

  Mitch and Alisha followed suit. The jerky was old and tough but it was better than nothing, and Alisha ate it without complaint.

  “Well,” Red remarked with a lopsided grin, “I don’t know ‘bout you two, but I’m all tuckered out.”

  Mitch grunted softly. He hated to admit it, but a nap sounded damn good. Lowering himself onto the robe, he held out his hand for Alisha. She sank down beside him, her head on his shoulder, one arm draped across his chest.

  Clements stretched out on the other side of the robe and was instantly asleep.

  Alisha ran her fingers over Mitch’s cheek. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yeah.” It was almost the truth. His arm hurt like the devil, his head ached, but he’d been hurt worse a time or two in the past.

  “Do you think Rides the Buffalo is all right?”

  “Sure, darlin’.”

  “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

  Mitch chuckled. “I’m trying to make us both feel better.”

  “I can’t lose him again, Mitch, I just can’t.”

  “I know.” He kissed her cheek. “Let’s hope for the best. That’s all we can do.”

  With a sigh, she closed her eyes and snuggled closer. He was right, there was nothing to do but wait, and hope.

  And pray.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  When she woke, the sun was high in the sky and she was alone on the buffalo robe.

  Scrambling to her feet, she felt a momentary sense of panic, but then she saw the horses grazing peacefully near the seep and knew that everything was all right.

  Combing her fingers through the tangles in her hair, Alisha walked toward the water.

  Sophie whickered softly at her approach.

  “Hi, girl,” Alisha murmured. She stroked the horse’s neck for a few moments, then knelt down and drank from the cool, clear water, wondering where the men had gone.

  Rising, Alisha leaned against Sophie’s shoulder, idly scratching the mare’s ears, her thoughts turning toward the battle. It had been like a scene out of a nightmare…the sudden appearance of the soldiers, the noise and confusion, the stink of gun smoke and death.

  The warriors had burst out of their lodges to defend their homes and loved ones, trusting that the women would get the children to safety. And the children…though they were wide-eyed with fear, they hadn’t made a sound.

  A prayer for the safety of her son and her mother-in-law rose from her heart. Rides the Buffalo had to be all right, she thought. Surely she would feel it if something had happened to him.

  Feeling suddenly restless, she started walking toward the far side of the enclosure. Sophie trailed at her heels like a puppy.

  There were berry bushes on the far side of the spring. Alisha picked a handful, eating them as she walked along. It was remarkable that this tiny spot of greenery could exist in the middle of this huge pile of rocks in the midst of the desert.

  Walking on, she found an arrowhead made of obsidian. Bending, she picked it up. It was smooth and warm in her hand.

  She walked on, with Sophie following her. It was peaceful here, she thought, a tiny oasis of solitude. She wondered how many men and women had sought refuge in this place in years gone by, wondered what it would be like to make love to Mitch here, in this place, under the stars. There was no chance of that, she thought, not as long as Red Clements was with them.

  She smiled as she thought of Clements. For all his rough speech and ways, she had grown very fond of him. She wondered what his wife in the east was like. Try as she might, she couldn’t imagine Clements walking down a city street, or wearing city clothes. Far easier to picture him in buckskins, hunkered down around a campfire.

  Two wives. Alisha shook her head. It was beyond comprehension.

  With a sigh, she turned back toward the buffalo robe, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Mitch striding toward her.

  Smiling, she ran into his arms.

  “Hey.” He wrapped his left arm around her and hugged her tight.

  “Hey yourself,” she retorted. “Where have you been?”

  He kissed her soundly. “Hunting.”

  “Hunting?”

  Mitch nodded. “We managed to trap a couple of rabbits. And Clements found some skunk cabbage.”

  “How are we going to cook the rabbits?”

  Mitch grinned at her. “Thought we’d eat ‘em raw.”

  “Mitchy!”

  He laughed at her. “Don’t worry. Clements has a flint.”

  “Well, thank goodness.”

  “Hey, if you’re hungry enough, you’ll eat just about anything.”

  “I guess so.”

  “I know so.”

  “Even rabbit?” she said, remembering how he hated them, how he’d once told her he hoped he’d never have to eat one again.

  “Even rabbit.”

  “I found some berries over there,” she said, gesturing over her shoulder.

  “I know,” Mitch said with a roguish grin. “I tasted ‘em when I kissed you.” He drew her into his arms, one hand sliding down over her buttocks to draw her up against him. “Give me another taste.”

  “Mitch!”

  “What?”

  “We’re not alone.”

  Mitch glanced over his shoulder. “Pay no attention to Red. He’s busy skinning our dinner.”

  He drew her up against him once more, showering her with kisses, driving every other thought from her mind. Like a flower unfolding to the heat of the sun, she opened for him, wanting more, more.

  Alisha moaned softly, her need blossoming, surging within her. Her body responded instantly to the touch of his hands and lips. Her breasts felt full, heavy. Warmth rose up within her, spreading outward.

  She ran her hands up and down his back, over his bare chest, loving the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips—the hardness of him, the heat of him.

  “Mitchy…”

  “What do you want, darlin’?” he murmured.

  “You. Just you.”

  “Now?”

  She blinked up at him, breathless and aching. “Isn’t there somewhere we can be alone?”

  Mitch glanced around, searching for someplace where they could be alone, and finding none.

  “Guess we’ll have to wait awhile,” he murmured.

  Alisha nodded, though waiting was the last thing she wanted.

  “Tarnation,” growled a voice. “You two ever gonna come up for air?”

  Startled, Alicia peered around Mitch to see Red Clements smirking at them.

  “Go away, Red,” Mitch growled.

  “I reckon I could go out and have a look around,” Clements offered, “even though we just come from outside and there weren’t nothin’ there.”

  “Thanks, Red.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Clements muttered irritably, but there was a glint in his eyes when he said it. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

  “Be careful out there,” Mi
tch warned.

  Clements grunted. “You two be careful in here.”

  Feelings her cheeks grow hot, Alisha buried her face against Mitch’s chest, certain she would never be able to look Clements in the face again.

  Mitch put his finger beneath Alisha’s chin and tilted her face up. “Change your mind?”

  Alisha shook her head. “No.” She touched the bandages on his arm and head. “But maybe we should wait. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’m already hurting,” he said, nuzzling her ear. “But I know how you can make it better.”

  “Hmm, I’ll just bet you do.”

  “I’d pick you up and carry you to my lair like a proper savage,” Mitch growled, “but I’m afraid this time you’ll have to walk.”

  “That’s all right,” she said, laughing. “You’d better save your strength.”

  “Gonna wear me out, are you?”

  “Maybe,” she replied with a saucy grin.

  Taking her by the hand, Mitch led Alisha to the buffalo robe and drew her down beside him. Wrapping his good arm around her, he kissed her.

  She melted against him, her body molding to his, hardly aware that he was removing her tunic, removing his clout, until she felt his skin against hers. It was a feast for the senses, with the buffalo robe soft and warm beneath her and Mitch’s hard muscled body at her side. A soft breeze ruffled her hair, she felt the sun on her face, felt a wild stirring deep in her loins. For the first time in her life, she felt free, uninhibited by convention, by what was right or wrong. She wasn’t the preacher’s daughter here, didn’t have to worry about town gossip, or what the school board would think. She could say and do whatever she wished without fear of approbation.

  It was a heady feeling, to be free, to be in Mitch’s arms, to know he loved her. Ah, what heaven to be able to taste him and touch him to her heart’s delight, to hear him whisper her name, his voice filled with love and desire.

  To whisper his name in return. “Mitchy…Mitchy…” Nothing but his name, the very sound of it, the very word itself making her heart swell with love.

  “I’m here, darlin’.”

 

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