Mitch reined his horse to a halt, listening as his voice echoed off the canyon walls…hear me…hear me… Please, Mitch thought, please hear me.
He rode onward, nearing the crevasse where Rides the Buffalo had fallen, the only sound that of his horse’s hooves on the hard-packed ground. Every movement jarred his wounded shoulder, and he cursed the Blue Coat who had shot him.
He swore again, recalling the battle, the odd sense that he was fighting himself as he took aim against one of the troopers. As a lawman, he had killed white men before. It had been part of the job. But fighting against the U.S. Cavalry… He shook his head. There was no way to explain it. He didn’t understand it himself.
“Rides the Buffalo! Son! Can you hear me?”
“Here.”
Mitch jerked his horse to a stop, his gaze sweeping the area. Had he really heard a voice? “Rides the Buffalo, answer me.”
“Here. I am over here.” Relief washed through Mitch like a tidal wave. Swinging out of the saddle, he ran toward a jumbled pile of rocks and boulders. As he drew closer, he saw a small hand emerge through a gap in the rocks.
Dropping to his knees, Mitch peered into the pile of rocks. “Hello, son. Are you all right?”
“I’m hungry.”
Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Mitch reached into the narrow opening and lifted Rides the Buffalo out. The boy moaned softly as Mitch gathered him into his arms.
“Sorry, son,” Mitch said, quickly loosening his hold on the boy. Setting Rides the Buffalo on his feet, Mitch quickly checked him over. His broken arm was still wrapped in deer hide. The wrap around his foot had worked its way loose and Mitch saw that his ankle looked more swollen than before. Mitch noticed he wasn’t putting any weight on it. His arms and legs were scratched, there was a cut on his cheek.
Carefully, he lifted Rides the Buffalo into his arms and placed the boy on the back of his horse, then vaulted up behind him and clucked to the horse, eager to get back to Alisha, to see the look on her face when he rode up with their son.
* * * * *
It hadn’t taken much time to set up camp. Alisha spread their blankets on a smooth stretch of ground, used a piece of wood to dig a pit for a fire, put their foodstuffs within easy reach.
She paced a small area for several minutes and then, as if drawn by some invisible cord, she ventured up the path toward the village.
She picked her way through the wreckage, remembering her trepidation when she first arrived, remembering how Mitch’s mother had made her feel welcome.
A few items remained miraculously intact: a doll made of cornhusks, a single moccasin, a clay pot. She picked up the pot, recognizing it as one that belonged to White Robe. A terrible sadness engulfed her as she looked around, remembering how the village had looked only days ago, filled with men and women she was just beginning to know. In the short time she had been with the Apache, she had found them to be a warm friendly people, nothing like the savages the people in town claimed they were.
With a sigh, she turned away from the ruined village and made her way back to the river. She shivered as darkness spread her cloak over the land.
Where was Mitch?
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Where is my mother…?” Rides the Buffalo asked, and then said quickly, “I mean, where is White Robe?”
“She’s waiting for you at the place of the talking trees,” Mitch said. He pulled back on the reins a little, slowing his horse’s pace to avoid jarring the boy any more than necessary.
“And my…where is Elk Chaser?”
Mitch considered a lie, but there had already been too many lies told. “I don’t know, son.”
Rides the Buffalo turned in the saddle so he could see Mitch’s face. “Are you really my father?”
“‘Fraid so. Is it such a terrible thing?”
Rides the Buffalo regarded him through somber black eyes. “Are you going to take me away from my…from White Robe?”
“Not if you don’t want to go.”
“Why did I not grow up with you and the white woman?”
“It’s a long story, son.”
“I want to know.”
Mitch sighed. If the boy was old enough to ask, he was old enough for the answer. “Your mother and I were in love. Our parents didn’t approve, so I went away from home to find a place for us to live together. Her father found out and sent me a letter, a message, saying that she had married another man. I believed him. I didn’t know your mother was pregnant with you at the time. When you were born, her father sent you away, and told your mother that you had died.” Mitch paused. “Do you understand?”
Rides the Buffalo nodded.
“Your mother would never have given you away, son, you’ve got to believe that.” Mitch took a deep breath. “She’s waiting for us.”
“She is here?”
“Yeah.”
“Do I have to call her mother?”
“Not if you don’t want to. I’m sure she’d like it though. She loves you.”
Rides the Buffalo’s eyes widened. “She does not even know me.”
“She’s still your mother. I expect you to treat her with the same respect you give White Robe.”
Rides the Buffalo nodded. Like all Apache children, he had been taught from birth to treat his elders with respect.
“We’ll be there soon,” Mitch said. He felt a shudder go through the boy. Was it pain, or fear?
* * * * *
Alisha looked up from the meal she was preparing at the sound of hoofbeats, felt her heart begin to beat wildly as she saw the burden in Mitch’s arms.
Leaping to her feet, she ran to meet them.
“Is he all right?” she asked anxiously, and then, seeing that Rides the Buffalo was asleep, she lowered her voice. “Where did you find him?”
“He was hiding in a pile of boulders,” Mitch said. “Near as I can tell, he’s none the worse for wear.”
Reaching up, Alisha took Rides the Buffalo from Mitch and cradled him in her arms. Love welled up inside her as she held her son to her breast at last.
She gazed up at Mitch, her eyes bright with tears. “Thank you,” she murmured tremulously. “Thank you.”
Mitch nodded, thinking he had never seen a more wondrous sight in all his life than Alisha holding his son in her arms.
Mindful of his injured shoulder, he slid carefully to the ground and tethered his horse near Alisha’s.
“He’s heavy,” Mitch remarked. “Do you want me to take him?”
Alisha shook her head. “He is heavy,” she said, smiling as she hugged her son closer, “but it’s a welcome weight.”
Moving closer, Mitch draped his good arm around Alisha’s shoulder, then brushed a kiss across her cheek.
“We’re together,” Alisha said. “A family, at last.”
“He looks like you,” Mitch remarked.
“Like me? No.” She shook her head. “He looks like you, every inch.”
“Be that as it may, I see you in him as well.”
“Do you think he’ll ever love me, the way he loves White Robe?”
Mitch nodded. “In time.”
Alisha held her son all through the night, reluctant to put him down. She stroked his hair, his cheek, counted each finger and toe. Her son, in her arms at last.
Her heart swelled with love as she gazed down at him. Her son. Tears filled her eyes and dripped onto his cheek and she kissed them away.
Looking up, she saw Mitch watching her and she knew everything she had ever wanted, would ever want, was there, within reach of her hand.
* * * * *
She had thought Mitch would want to go back to the place of the talking trees in the morning, but he seemed to be in no hurry to leave and when she remarked on it, he told her he thought Rides the Buffalo needed a few days of rest before they made the journey.
She suspected that was just an excuse, that he was giving her time to spend alone with Rides the Buffalo. Giving them both time to get to k
now their son better.
She was glad to see that the tension had drained out of Mitch, that some of the anger had faded from his eyes.
Rides the Buffalo woke before dawn, his stomach growling loudly. Alisha offered him something to eat and drink. He was asleep again almost immediately.
He slept most of that day. Alisha sat beside him, reaching out now and then to touch him, to reassure herself that he was really there. He was a handsome child, with his long black hair and copper-hued skin, so like his father.
Mitch went hunting in the morning and returned with a rabbit and a couple of quail. The fresh meat was a welcome addition to the larder.
Rides the Buffalo woke late in the afternoon. Mitch took him downstream to bathe and relieve himself while Alisha washed the boy’s vest and leggings.
When they returned, the air was fragrant with the scent of roasting rabbit.
Mitch ruffled Rides the Buffalo’s hair. “Let’s see what kind of cook she is, shall we?” Mitch grinned as the boy’s stomach rumbled loudly. “Good thing she skinned that rabbit. I think you’d eat it, fur and all.”
Rides the Buffalo looked up at Mitch and laughed, and somehow that broke the tension between them.
Mitch and Alisha spoke of trivial things while they ate. Rides the Buffalo said little, his gaze constantly moving between them.
Alisha smiled at him, hoping he would soon be comfortable in her presence. It was all she could do to keep from sweeping him into her arms, but she knew the first move had to be his.
“How’s your arm feeling?” she asked. “Does it hurt much?”
Rides the Buffalo shrugged. “A little.”
“And your ankle?”
“It hurts, but…”
“Only a little,” Alisha said with a smile.
Rides the Buffalo grinned at her.
“This must be difficult for you,” Alisha said, gesturing from herself to Mitch. “Learning that we’re your parents.”
Rides the Buffalo nodded, his expression solemn.
“Do you have any questions we can answer for you?”
“Do I have to stay with you?”
Alisha looked at Mitch, not knowing what she should say.
“We’d like for you to come and live with us for a while,” Mitch said.
“Where do you live?”
“In a place called Canyon Creek. I have a ranch there.”
“Is it far away?”
“Not too far,” Mitch said.
“Does my mother…does White Robe no longer want me for her son?”
“Of course not,” Mitch said quickly. “But she’s your grandmother, not your mother.”
A look of astonishment passed over Rides the Buffalo’s face, and Mitch knew the boy had not considered that.
“So, you see,” Mitch said, “she will still be part of your family. Our family.”
“What if I do not want to go with you?”
Mitch glanced at Alisha, then shook his head. “We won’t force you to go with us,” he said. “Your mother and I want you to be happy.”
Rides the Buffalo looked at Alisha. “Shi ma.”
Alisha nodded. She blinked rapidly, but couldn’t keep the tears from welling in her eyes. “Yes,” she said. “Oh, yes.”
“Is it true that you thought I was dead?”
“Yes. I came looking for you as soon as I learned you were still alive.”
“You didn’t give me away?”
“No, of course not! Why would I have done that?”
“Because I am Apache. The white eyes hate us.”
“Oh, no,” Alisha said. She laid her hand on his arm. “That’s not true. Your father is Apache, and I love him. Just as I love you.”
“How can you love me? You do not know me.”
Mitch sighed. Rides the Buffalo had asked him the same question.
“You’re my son,” Alisha said. “I loved you before you were born.”
Rides the Buffalo considered that for several moments. And then, with a weary sigh, he scooted closer to Alisha, curled up beside her, his head in her lap, and closed his eyes.
Alisha glanced at Mitch, pleasure and astonishment evident in her expression.
“I guess he likes you,” Mitch remarked with a smile. “But then, so do I.”
Later, after Rides the Buffalo had been tucked into bed for the night, Mitch and Alisha went for a walk along the river. A full moon played among a handful of wispy clouds. A warm breeze whispered ancient stories to the cottonwoods. Frogs and crickets played a lively serenade.
“Beautiful night,” Alisha mused. “Kind of reminds me of summers back home, when we walked by the creek.”
Mitch laughed softly. “Bet I know what day you’re remembering.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I never did get even for that day you pushed me in the river.”
Alisha looked up at him and laughed, and then, seeing the look in his eyes, she shook her head. “You wouldn’t!”
“It’ll cost you.”
“Cost me? How much?”
His gaze moved over her, hot as a summer’s day. “Make me an offer.”
“One kiss.”
“Not good enough.”
“Two?”
“Miser.”
“Three?”
He shook his head. “You’ve got to do better than that.”
“Well, what do you want?”
“The same thing I’ve always wanted. You. All of you. Every inch. Every touch.”
“Oh, Mitch…”
“Mitchy,” he said, drawing her up against him. “Call me Mitchy.”
“Mitchy.” She loved him with her whole heart and soul. Loved him as she had never loved another. “My Mitchy.”
“You look like you swallowed a piece of the sun.”
“That’s how I feel, too. I’m so happy.” She stood on tiptoe. “Kiss me, my Mitchy.”
“Any time, darlin’,” he drawled. “Any time.”
She closed her eyes as his lips found hers. Magic, she thought, it was magic, the desire that sparked so quickly to life, the way his touch made her heart race, made every fiber, every inch of her flesh come achingly alive, achingly aware. His clever hands moved knowingly over her body. His kisses fell like warm rain on her face, her neck, her breasts.
Bending down, he took hold of the hem of her tunic and lifted it over her head, and then, ever so slowly, he kissed his way back up to her lips. She was quivering with desire, burning with need, when his mouth covered her again.
Her hands trembled as she divested him of his clothing, pulled him down on the cool grass beside the river. Straddling his hips, she began to kiss him, gasping with pleasure as his flesh melded with hers.
He urged her on until he felt her shudder with pleasure, and then he rolled her over and found his own fulfillment in her sweet flesh.
* * * * *
They stayed in the valley for three days. Alisha would have liked to stay longer, but Mitch was suddenly anxious to get back to the place of the talking trees and let his mother know that Rides the Buffalo was alive and well. She felt guilty then, for wanting to wait longer. If she were in White Robe’s place, she would be frantic by now, certain that her son was dead.
Rides the Buffalo seemed in good spirits. The swelling in his ankle had gone down. His arm did not pain him overmuch though it would be weeks before the break mended completely.
Mitch lifted Alisha onto the back of her horse, then settled Rides the Buffalo behind her. Knowing, somehow, that he would never see this place again, he took a last look around, wanting to imprint it in his memory. And then he swung onto the back of his horse and led the way down the narrow mountain trail that led out of Apache Pass.
Chapter Thirty-Five
It was close to midnight when they reached the place of the talking trees. Two warriors stepped out of the shadows as they neared the entrance. One of them lifted a hand in recognition, and then the two men faded back into the shadows, disappearing so completely Alisha wondered if they
had actually been there.
The canyon was dark save for the last faint embers of a fire near the center of the camp. Rides the Buffalo was asleep. Dismounting, Mitch lifted him from the back of the horse and ducked inside Fights the Wind’s lodge.
The warrior sat up as Mitch stepped inside.
“It’s all right,” Mitch said. “It’s me.”
Fights the Wind grunted softly. “I see you found the boy.”
“Yes.”
“Otter, is that you?”
“Yes, shi ma.”
White Robe sat up, her arms outstretched. “My son. Give me my son.”
Picking his way through the half-dozen or so people sleeping in the lodge, Mitch knelt beside his mother and placed Rides the Buffalo in her arms.
Rides the Buffalo’s eyelids fluttered open. He smiled when he saw White Robe. Snuggling against her, he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
“He is well?” she asked. Her gaze moved over Rides the Buffalo’s face. “His arm…”
“He’s fine. Just tired is all.”
White Robe held the boy close a moment, then, settling him on the blanket beside her, she laid back down, one hand stroking his hair.
Mitch turned to find Alisha standing in the doorway. He glanced around, quickly realizing there was no place for them to sleep. Making his way toward her, he took her hand and left the wickiup.
Outside, he unsaddled her horse, then, grabbing the buffalo robe draped over his horse’s withers, he took Alisha’s hand and led her away from the wickiups. Finding a flat stretch of ground, he spread the robe, then drew her down beside him.
Alisha rested her head on his shoulder. “She’s not going to let him go, is she?”
“‘Lisha…”
“What are we going to do?”
“‘Lisha, it’ll be fine.”
“I know we said we wouldn’t take him from her, but I don’t want to stay here forever. I want to go home.”
“I know.” For a time he had entertained the notion that they would stay here and make their home with the Apache, but he had given up that idea when the cavalry attacked the village. On his own, he might have stayed to fight, but he couldn’t risk Alisha’s life, or the life of his son. The war between the Apache and the whites wouldn’t end until the Apaches had been killed or they were all confined to reservations. In the mean time, there would be more battles, more lives lost.
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