Apache Flame

by Madeline Baker

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “All right.” Crossing the floor, she bent down and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Get some rest, all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  She kissed him again, then followed Red out the door.

  * * * * *

  She knew it was only her imagination, but Canyon Creek seemed bigger than when she left. She nodded at Mrs. Moss and Mrs. Hazelwood as they drove down the street, conscious of their curious stares. She hadn’t told anyone but Chloe that she was leaving town, and even then, she hadn’t told her why.

  Alisha laid her hand on Red’s arm when they approached the office of the Canyon Creek Gazette. “Pull up here, will you, Red?”

  With a nod, he reined his horse to a halt. Leaping lightly to the ground, he rounded the buggy and helped Alisha down.

  “I won’t be long. Why don’t you go over to the telegraph office and send your message, and I’ll meet you at the mercantile?”

  “All right, missy.” Climbing up on the seat, he lifted the reins and clucked to the horse.

  Lifting her skirts, Alisha went up the stairs, thinking how strange it felt to wear petticoats and drawers and stockings again. Opening the door, she stepped into the newspaper office.

  “Hello, Mr. Quimby. Is Chloe here?”

  “Miss Faraday! Where in tarnation have you been? Chloe’s been worried sick about you. Chloe! Come on out here.”

  “What’s wrong, Sylvester? You don’t have to shout. I’m not…Alisha!” Wiping her hands on the big white apron that covered her dress, Chloe hurried across the room and embraced the younger woman. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried to death.”

  “I took a rather long trip.”

  Chloe held Alisha at arm’s length and looked her up and down. “Well, you don’t look any the worse for the journey. Where on earth did you go?”

  “It’s a long story, Chloe.” Alisha glanced at Sylvester. “I’ll tell you all about it some other time, all right?”

  Chloe nodded, but her expression was doubtful.

  “I need to pick up my things. Are they still here?”

  “No, they’re up at the house. Where are you staying? I’ll have Sylvester drop them off on after work.”

  “I don’t want to put him to any trouble.”

  “Oh, pish posh, it’s no trouble at all. Just tell us where you want them.”

  Alisha took a deep breath. “I’m staying up at the Garret place.”

  Chloe blinked several times, slowly. “The Garret place?”

  “Yes.”

  “The Garret place,” Chloe repeated. “Why would you be staying there?”

  “Well.” Alisha glanced from Chloe to Sylvester and back again. “That’s where my husband lives.”

  “Husband!” Chloe exclaimed.

  “Husband!” Sylvester blurted.

  Chloe drooped into the chair beside her husband’s desk. “When did this happen?”

  “Recently.”

  “I really need to go,” Alisha said.

  “Oh, no, you don’t!” Chloe jumped out of the chair and grabbed Alisha by the arm. “You’re not leaving here until you tell me everything.”

  * * * * *

  Red Clements was sitting in a rocker outside the general store when Alisha arrived.

  “Wal, I about give up on ya,” he said.

  “I’m sorry. I got detained.”

  Red grunted. “I been waitin’ here near an hour.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I won’t be long.”

  With an apologetic smile, Alisha opened the door and stepped inside. She nodded at Mr. Halstead, picked up a basket from beside the front counter, and made her way down the first aisle.

  It was Saturday afternoon, and the store was crowded. She was aware of the whispers that followed her, people wondering where she had been, what she was going to do now that her father was gone and the school board had hired a new teacher.

  Alisha felt a twinge of regret when she heard about the new teacher. She had loved teaching and hoped she might be able to go back to it, but it was her own fault they had replaced her. She should have notified the school board before she left town, but she simply hadn’t thought of it until it was too late.

  She walked up and down the aisles, automatically filling her basket with food stuffs. But food was the farthest thing from her mind. She was a mother now, with a son to think of, yet they were still strangers to each other. Her mother-in-law was living with her, and she wondered what problems that was going to cause. White Robe had been Rides the Buffalo’s mother for the last four years. She was accustomed to raising him, disciplining him. It wouldn’t be easy for her to relinquish that position. And Mitch… They were married, and yet that marriage, performed by an Apache medicine man, would not be recognized here in town.

  She moved to the back of the store where the clothing was kept. Rides the Buffalo needed clothing. She picked out a couple of shirts that looked to be the right size, two pairs of corduroy trousers, a suit of underwear, several pairs of socks, a pair of boots. She wondered how he would feel about his new clothes, if he would object to giving up buckskin in favor of corduroy and cotton.

  She paid for her purchases at the counter, waited while Mr. Halstead wrapped them for her.

  Red stood up when she exited the store. Coming forward, he took a couple of her packages. “Got everything you need?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  They stowed her purchases under the seat, then Red helped her into the buggy and they were on their way.

  “Somethin’ troubling you, missy?” he asked as he put the horse into a trot.

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.”

  Red grunted. “Well, which is it?”

  “Oh, Red, I’m so confused. I was so eager to find my son, I never thought past that. Now he’s here, and I’m not sure what to do. I’m his mother, but I’m not, really. White Robe is. She raised him. She’s the one who’s taken care of him his whole life.” She sniffed back her tears, torn by the question that had plagued her from the beginning. “What if he never thinks of me as his mother?”

  “Here, now,” Red chided. Reining the horse to a halt, he patted her shoulder. “Give the boy some time. Lotta changes in his life, kind of sudden like, you know.”

  “I know.” She sniffed.

  “Lotta changes in your life, too, I reckon.”

  Alisha nodded. Her father’s death. A child. A husband. A mother-in-law. The loss of her teaching position. “You could say that.”

  “Wal, change is never easy, but it’s necessary sometimes, ya know?”

  “I know.” She blew out a sigh. “Thanks, Red.”

  “Nothin’ to thank me for.” He patted her arm again, then picked up the reins and clucked to the horse.

  “I wish you didn’t have to leave,” Alisha said, meaning it. He had become a good friend in a short time.

  “Wal, I’d like to stay, but…” He shrugged. “You know how it is?”

  “I’m sure they’re anxious to see you, too.”

  Red grinned. “Yeah, I reckon. Don’t you worry now. Everything’s gonna be jest fine.”

  * * * * *

  Alisha stared up at the ceiling. It seemed strange to be sleeping under a roof again, in a real bed again. Stranger still to be sleeping in the bed that Mitch’s parents had shared. Mitch had objected at first, but it was the only double bed in the house.

  She had aired out the room and the mattress and pillows, put clean sheets and blankets on the bed, rearranged the furniture in an effort to make it their room instead of his father’s.

  In spite of Mitch’s misgivings, he had quickly fallen asleep. Even though he insisted he was all right, she knew his injury still pained him, that the long journey had tired him more than he would admit. She snuggled closer, her shoulder pillowed on his arm.

  Red had insisted on sleeping outside, saying he’d having plenty of indoor living when he got to St. Louis.


  White Robe and Rides the Buffalo were asleep in their own rooms. White Robe had gone to bed early, saying she was tired, but Alisha had the feeling that her mother-in-law was giving her and Mitch an opportunity to spend some time alone with Rides the Buffalo so they could get to know each other better.

  They had spent a pleasant evening, just the three of them. They had talked a little about the baby. Mitch had promised to get Rides the Buffalo a pony, then told him a Coyote story. Later, Alisha had tucked Rides the Buffalo into bed and, after a brief hesitation, she had kissed him good night. He hadn’t seemed to mind.

  With a sigh, she closed her eyes, completely at peace.

  * * * * *

  “Alisha! Alisha! Wake up!”

  She bolted upright, overcome by a sense of panic. “Mitch?”

  “I’m here. Shh, it’s all right. You were having a nightmare.”

  “Oh.” She fell into his arms. “It was awful.”

  He drew her up against him. “It was just a dream, darlin’”

  “I know, but it was so real.” She took a deep breath. “So real.”

  “What was it about?”

  “We were in town. We…we were walking…down the street. It was night. You were the sheriff again, and…” She shivered. “Someone shot you.”

  Mitch lay down again. Tucking Alisha against his side, he stroked her hair. “Try not to think about it anymore. It was just a bad dream. Nothing more.”

  * * * * *

  Red left for St. Louis the next morning. Alisha hated to see him go. He promised to stop for a visit in the spring on his way to see Owl Woman.

  She thought about what he had said often during the next few days. Everything’s gonna be just fine. She repeated those words in her mind when she was caring for Mitch, when she was getting acquainted with her son, when she was learning to adjust to having a husband and a son and a mother-in-law.

  Sylvester Quimby had dropped off her things, and she felt more like herself in her own clothes. It gave her a sense of being home to see her few knick knacks scattered around the house, to see her father’s Bible on the table beside the sofa.

  Mitch said he would paint the inside of the house when he was back on his feet, and she spent a day at the general store picking out fabric for new curtains, a dark blue for Rides the Buffalo’s bedroom, a yellow check for the kitchen, a light green for the parlor, white for their bedroom. White Robe picked a soft blue print for her room.

  She rearranged the furniture in the parlor, ordered wallpaper for their bedroom.

  Mitch told her to buy whatever she wanted. It was a strange feeling, knowing she could spend as much as she pleased. Growing up, Mitch had always thought of her as being rich because she had nice clothes and lived in a big house. But the house had belonged to the church. True, they’d had plenty to eat, and she’d always had nice clothes, but money for extras, for frills and doodads, had always been scarce.

  She bought a crystal swan just because it was pretty. She bought Mitch a blue shirt because it was the same color as his eyes. She bought Rides the Buffalo a set of toy soldiers, a new dress for White Robe, and one for herself.

  After her initial shopping spree, she stayed close to home, busying herself with housework. While Mitch and Rides the Buffalo sat out on the porch, getting to know each other while their injuries healed, she scrubbed the floors and shook out the rugs and waxed the furniture. She went through drawers and cupboards and closets.

  At first, Alisha had felt ill at ease. The house had been White Robe’s home, and Alisha couldn’t help feeling like an intruder at worse, a visitor at best, but White Robe had quickly assured her that this house had never been home, and that it held only bad memories for her.

  “We’ll have to change that,” Alisha had told her, determined to make it so.

  They worked comfortably together after that. Sometimes, while they were working together, White Robe reminisced about days gone by, telling Alisha stories about Mitch, about how he had always loved the water, about the time he found a wounded fawn and nursed it back to health.

  As the days went by, Alisha began to feel that Red had been right and that everything would, indeed, work out for the best.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  They had been in town almost three weeks when Alisha bumped into Roger. She was on her way into the general store to buy a spool of white thread but her mind wasn’t on thread, or the curtains she was making for the bedroom. She had missed her monthly flow, and she was contemplating the fact that she might be pregnant when she opened the door to the mercantile and came face to face with Roger.

  “Alisha!” he exclaimed. A smile lit his face, and then his expression turned sour. “I heard you were back in town.”

  “Hello, Roger.”

  “Folks tell me you’re staying with him.”

  “Yes.” She lifted her chin. She knew what people were saying, that she was living in sin with a half-breed. But she didn’t care. She wasn’t living in sin. Mitch was her husband in every way that mattered, and soon they would be married again. She hadn’t said anything to Mitch about the whispers and gossip she overheard, nor had she brought Rides the Buffalo into town with her. The old cats had enough fat to chew. Hopefully, all that would change once she and Mitch were married.

  She was going to make the arrangements with the new preacher when she finished her shopping.

  “Can we go someplace and talk?” Roger asked.

  “There’s nothing to say.”

  “I think there is.” He looked around. It was Saturday, and the street was crowded. Women hurried along the boardwalk, or clustered in small groups, chatting. Men sat in the rockers outside the mercantile, talking and whittling while their wives shopped. Kids played near the horse trough. A group of men stood near the blacksmith shop, arguing politics. “We can’t talk here.”

  “Roger…”

  “I think you owe me that much, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “Come on,” he said, taking her by the arm.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the hotel. We can talk over a cup of coffee.”

  Something told her it was a mistake, but it was too late to back out now. And she did owe it to him. He was right about that.

  There were only a few people in the hotel dining room. Roger held her chair for her, they ordered pie and coffee. Alisha glanced around, trying to think of something to say.

  Roger took a deep breath, and got right to the point. “I was wrong, to behave the way I did. I should have been more understanding of what you were going through.” He paused. “Did you find your…your son?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m…I’m glad. Is he…where is he?”

  “Up at the ranch.”

  A shadow passed through Roger’s eyes, and was gone.

  “I still love you, Alisha. I want you to marry me, the way we planned. The house is finished, just the way you wanted it.”

  “Roger, please, don’t.”

  “We were good together, Alisha. It can be that way again.”

  “No, Roger, it can’t. Nothing’s the same as it was.”

  “Alisha…”

  “Listen to me! I’m in love with Mitch. I always have been, and I always will be.”

  Roger shook his head. “No, that’s not true,” he said, his voice rising. “You loved me.”

  Alisha looked around. “Roger, please, don’t make a scene.”

  “You loved me! I know you did.”

  “Yes, I did. I…”

  The words died in her throat as a sudden stillness fell over the room. Slowly, she looked up to see Mitch standing beside her chair.

  “Go on,” he said. “I want to hear the rest of this.”

  “Mitch. What are you doing here?”

  “Go on,” he urged coldly. “You were telling Smithfield you loved him.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Roger stood up, his hands balled into tight fists. “Get out of here
, Garret.”

  “Roger, don’t!” Rising quickly to her feet, Alisha tugged on Mitch’s hand. “Let’s go.”

  Mitch started to refuse, then, realizing how embarrassed Alisha would be if he started a brawl in the dining room in the middle of the day, he let her pull him toward the door.

  “This isn’t over,” Roger called. “Not by a damn sight!”

  Outside, Alisha took a deep breath. Dropping Mitch’s hand, she walked swiftly down the boardwalk to where she had left the buggy. She stood there a moment, eyes closed, fighting the urge to cry.

  She didn’t hear Mitch come up behind her, but suddenly his hands were at her waist and he was lifting her into the buggy. He tied his horse to the back, then vaulted up on the seat beside her.

  “Mitch…”

  “I’m listening.” He lifted the reins, and turned the horse toward home.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You might start by telling me what you were doing with Smithfield when you told me you were going to Halstead’s for thread.”

  “I was. I did. I bumped into Roger at the store and he said he wanted to talk. That’s all.”

  “Are you in love with him?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I want you to tell me.”

  “Of course I don’t love him. I love you. I always have. There’s never been anyone else but you.”

  “Do you know how it made me feel, walking in there and seeing the two of you together?”

  “How did you know I was there?”

  “I saw you go in.”

  “Oh. Why did you come to town? Were you following me?”

  “My ma was making bread and she ran out of flour.” Muttering an oath, he turned the horse back toward town.

  “Mitch, don’t be angry, please.”

  He grunted softly. Anger didn’t begin to describe how he’d felt when he saw Alisha and Roger together. Hell, it didn’t come close.

  He pulled up in front of Halstead’s and wrapped the reins around the brake. “I won’t be long.”

  “Would you pick me up a spool of white thread while you’re in there?”

  He looked at her a moment, then nodded. “Sure.”

  She watched him climb the stairs and enter the mercantile. How could he even think she loved another man? After all they had been through, didn’t he know by now that she loved him, only him? Always and forever him? He was her heart, her soul, her reason for being.