Apache Summer sb-3

by Heather Graham

  night.

  Chapter Three.

  Two days later, they reached the fort.

  It was, Tess thought, a typical military fort in Indian country. The

  walls of the stockade were high, maybe twenty-five feet high, and built

  of dark sturdy logs. She heard the sound of a bugle while they were

  still some distance from the fort, then the huge wooden gate swung open

  to allow their party to enter. Looking up as they went into the

  compound, Tess saw armed guards in their cavalry blue lined up on all

  the catwalks and staring down at them.

  She was grateful to have reached the fort. She was driving her mules,

  swearing to them beneath her breath, and wondering if the calluses would

  ever leave her fingers. She'd gotten them right through Uncle Joe's

  heavy leather gloves.

  She was sweaty, salty and sticky, and her hair was coming loose from the

  neat braid she'd twisted at her nape. She had said that she could

  manage--and Lieutenant Slater had let her do just that.

  His men had continued to be very kind, and she had continued to smile

  and be as gracious as she could in return. He had kept his distance

  since he had left her that night, but she had felt his eyes on her.

  Always. his eyes were on her. When she drove the wagon, she would

  suddenly feel a warmth, and she would look around to discover that he

  was no longer at the head of the column, but had ridden back and was

  watching her. And at night, when. one of the men would bring her coffee

  or food, he would stare across the distance of the camp fire. And by

  night she heard footsteps, and she wondered if he wasn't walking by to

  determine if she was sleeping. If she was safe.

  Or did he walk by to discover if she might still be awake?

  He infuriated her, but she was also glad, and she realized that she felt

  safe. Not because she was surrounded by thirty or so cavalry men, but

  because he was walking by, because he was near.

  But now they had come to the fort. He would turn her over to his

  commander and disappear from her life.

  Someone would be assigned to see her to Wiltshire, and she need never

  see him again. Never feel his eyes again, the touch of smoke gray and

  insinuation that warmed everything within her and seemed to caress her

  as if he saw her again as he had by the brook.

  They were in front of the command post. Tess pulled hard on the reins,

  dropped them and started to leap from the driver's seat. She smiled, for

  Jon Red Feather was there to help her.

  She had grown to like the man very much: his striking, sturdy

  appearance, his silence and his carefully chosen words. And she sensed

  that he believed her when others might not.

  He set her upon the ground. She thanked him then looked at all the

  confusion around her. Wives, children and perhaps lovers had spilled

  from the various buildings in the compound to greet the returning men.

  Monahah had called out an order dismissing them all, and the band was

  quickly breaking up.

  Lieutenant Slater was striding up the steps to the broad porch that

  encircled the command post, saluting the tall, gray-haired man who

  awaited him. Jon indicated the steps.

  "Miss. Stuart, I believe the colonel will want a statement from you as

  soon as possible. I'll see to your accommodations for the evening and

  return shortly."

  He walked her to the porch. Apparently Slater had already explained

  something about her, for the colonel was quick to offer her a hand and

  guide her up the steps.

  "Miss. Stuart, our most sincere condolences on the loss of your uncle,

  but may I say that we are heartily glad that you have survived to be

  here today," "Thank you," Tess said. It was strange. It already seemed

  like the whole thing had happened in the distant past. Days on the

  plains could do that, she decided. And yet, when the colonel spoke so

  solicitously of Uncle Joe, all the pain and the loneliness rushed back.

  She tried to swallow them down. She needed to impress this man with

  intelligence and determination, not a fit of tears. She didn't want to

  be patted on the back. She wanted to be believed.

  "Miss. Stuart, if you would be so good as to join us inside, the colonel

  would like to speak with you," Slater said.

  There was a startling light in his eyes as they touched her. Not

  amusement, but something else. Almost a challenge. He wanted to see if

  she would back down, she thought. Well, she wouldn't.

  She walked past both men and into a large office with file cabinets and

  a massive desk and a multitude of crude wooden chairs. Slater pulled out

  a chair for her, and she sat down as regally as she could manage,

  pulling off her rough leather gloves and letting them fall into her lap.

  She felt Slater's eyes, and she looked up then looked quickly away.

  He had seen the blisters and calluses on her hands. The colonel took his

  seat behind the desk. He was an elderly man, whose gentle blue eyes

  seemed to belie his position as a commander of such a post. His voice,

  too, was gentle. Tess thought he was genuinely grateful to see her

  alive, even if he had never met her before.

  "Would you like coffee, Miss. Stuart? I'm afraid I've no tea to offer

  you" -- "Coffee will be just fine, thank you," Tess said.

  She hadn't realized that there was another man in the room unt'd a

  s'dent young corporal stepped forward to bring her a tin mug of black

  coffee. She thanked him and an awkward moment followed. Then the colonel

  sat forward, folding his hands on the desk.

  "Miss. Stuart, Lieutenant Slater informs me that you have claimed that

  it was not Indians who set upon your band."

  "That's right, sir."

  "Then who?"

  "White men. Hired guns for a man named yon Heusen. He is trying to take

  my uncle's property and" -- "He'd have men attack a whole wagon train to

  obtain your uncle's property? Think now, Miss. Stuart, is that logical?"

  She gritted her teeth. Slater was watching her politely. She wanted to

  kick him.

  "It wasn't a large wagon train, Colonel.

  We've had good relations with the Comanche in our area, and my uncle

  wasn't afraid of the Comanche! We were traveling with a very small

  party, a few hired hands, my uncle-"

  " Maybe, Miss. Stuart, the Indians weren't Comanche.

  Maybe they were a stray band of Apache looking for easy prey, or

  Shoshone down from the mountains, or maybe even an offshoot of the

  Sioux"--" No Indian attacked that wagon train."

  Tess swung around. Jon Red Feather had come into the room. He helped

  himself to coffee, then pulled up the chair beside Slater. He grinned at

  his friend, then addressed the colonel.

  "I'm sure that Miss. Stuart does know a Comanche when she sees one, sir.

  And it wasn't Apache. Apache usually only scalp Mexicans--in

  retaliation." He turned and smiled at Tess.

  "And I can promise you that what was done was not done by the Sioux. A

  Sioux would never have left Miss. Stuart behind."

  A shiver ran down Tess's spine. She didn't know if Jon meant that the

  Sioux would have taken her with them-
-or that they would have been sure

  to kill and scalp her, too. The colonel lifted his hands. Even with Jori

  corroborating her story, he didn't seem to believe her. Or if he did

  believe her, he had no intention of helping her.

  "Miss. Stuart, I have heard of this von Heusen. He has big money, and

  big connections, and I understand he owns half the town" -- "Literally,

  Colonel.

  He owns the judge and the sheriff and the deputies."

  "Now, Miss. Stuart, those are frightful charges" -- "They are true

  charges."

  "But don't you see, Miss. Stuart, you'd have to go into a court of law

  against this man. And you'd have to charge him in Wiltshire, and like

  you said ..." His voice trailed away. "Why don't you think of heading

  back east, Miss. Stuart?"

  She was up on her feet instantly.

  "Head back east? I have never been east, Colonel. I was born here in

  Texas.

  My grandparents helped found Wiltshire. And the little bit of town that

  yon Heusen doesn't own yeti still do. I have no intention of turning it

  over to him! Colonel, there's nothing else that I can tell you. I have

  had a rather trying few days. If there's some place where I might rest,

  I'll be most grateful to accept your hospitality for a night or two.

  Then, sir, I have to get home. I have a ranch and a paper that need my

  expertise."

  The colonel was on his feet, too, and she sensed that, behind her, Jon

  and Slater had also risen. She spun around, feeling Slater's eyes,

  certain that he was laughing at her again.

  But he wasn't laughing. His eyes were upon her, smoky and gray and

  enigmatic. She sensed that she had finally gained a certain admiration

  from him. What good it could do her, she didn't know. The colonel had

  been her last hope.

  Now the battle was hers, and hers alone.

  "Miss. Stuart, I'd like to help you if I could"

  "Nonsense, Colonel. You don't believe a word I'm saying," Tess told him

  sweetly.

  "That's your prerogative, sir. I am very fatigued ..."

  "Miss. Stuart can take the old Casey place while she's here," Jori said.

  "Doily Simmons is there now, with linens and towels."

  "I shall be most grateful to the Caseys," Tess said. "No need," Slater

  drawled.

  "Casey is dead. Caught a Comanche arrow last year. His wife went on hack

  east." He was taunting her, and she smiled despite it.

  "I have told you all, Lieutenant, I've never been east" -- "Oh, not that

  east, Miss. Stuart. Mrs. Casey and the kids went to live in Houston,

  that's all."

  "Well, I rather like the area I live in," she said sweetly, then she

  turned to the colonel.

  "If I may, sir ... 7"

  "Of course, of course! Jamie, you and Jon will please escort the young

  lady to her quarters. And Mis~ Stuart, if it's Wiltshire you're

  insisting on reaching, I'll arrange you an escort just as soon as

  possible."

  "Thank you."

  Jon opened the door. Tess sailed through it. Slater followed her.

  "It's this way, Tess," Jon told her. He'd never used her first name

  before, and certainly not as he did now, intimately, as if they were old

  friends.

  There was a bright light to his striking green eyes, and she realized

  that it was for the benefit of Jamie Slater. Jamie. Silently, she rolled

  the name on her tongue.

  "Lieutenant" seemed to fit him better.

  Not always . Not that day he had looked down at her on the rocks after

  shooting the snake. His hair had been ruffled, his shirt had fallen

  open, and she had wanted to touch him, to reach out and feel the vital

  movement of his flesh, so bronze beneath the setting sun. Then, then the

  name Jamie might have fit him just fight. It was an intimate name, ,a

  name for friends, or for lovers.

  He was behind her still. Jon Red Feather was pointing things out to her.

  "That's a general store, and there's our one and only alehouse, we don't

  dare call it a saloon. And down there is the coffeehouse for the ladies.

  We've a number of women at the fort here. The colonel approves of the

  married men having their wives with them, and since the fort is strong

  and secure ..." He shrugged.

  "Then, of course, we have the stores and the alehouse and the

  eoffcehouse, so we've a few young and unattached ladies, which makes it

  nice for the soldiers at the dances."

  "Dances!"

  "Why, Miss. Stuart, we do try to be civilized out here in the

  wilderness." "Desert," Jamie Slater said from behind them.

  "I think it's really more a desert than a wilderness, don't you, Jon?"

  He didn't wait for an answer, but continued, "There's the Casey house

  right there." He strode up three steps to a small house that seemed to

  share a supporting wall with the structure beside it.

  The door burst open suddenly. There was a large buxom woman standing

  there.

  She had an ageless quality about her, for her features were plump and

  clear, her eyes were dark and merry, and it was difficult to see if her

  hair was blond or silver.

  "You poor dear! You poor, poor dear! Caught up in that awful Indian

  attack"

  "Miss. Stuart doesn't believe that it was Indians, Dolly," Jamie Slater

  said evenly.

  Dolly waved a hand in the air.

  "Don't matter who it was, does it? It was awful and heinous and cruel

  and this poor girl lost her friends and her uncle. It was your uncle,

  fight, dear?" "Yes," Tess said softly.

  Dolly had a hand upon her shoulders, drawing her into the house. Jon and

  Jamie Slater would have followed except that Dolly inserted her grand

  frame between them and the doorway.

  "Jon, Jamie, get on with you now. I'li see to Miss. Stuart. I'm snre you

  were right decent to her on the trail, but she's had a bad time of it

  and I'm going to see to it that she has some time to rest, and I'm going

  to give her a nice long bath, some homo-cooked food, and then I'm going

  to put her to bed for the night. She needs a little tenderness right

  now, and I'm not so sure you're the pair to provide it!"

  "Right, Dolly," Jon said. Amused, he stepped back. Jamie Slater tipped

  his hat to Tess over Dolly's broad shoulder. His lip, too, was curled

  with a certain amusement, and Tess felt that, for once, she could too

  easily read the message behind his smok~-gray eyes. He thought that she

  needed tenderness just about as much as a porcupine did.

  "Good evening, Miss. Stuart. I do hope that you'll be feeling better

  soon."

  "If you're lucky, Jamie Slater, she'll be up and about for the dance

  tomorrow night."

  "If I'm lucky" -- Jamie started to murmur. "Well, hell, there's no lack

  of young men around here, Lieutenant!" Dolly said.

  Tess could feel a brilliant crimson flush rising to her cheeks. She

  wasn't sure who she wanted to bat the hardest--Dolly for so boldly

  putting her into an awkward situation, or Jamie Slater for behaving as

  if escorting her to a dance would be a hardship.

  "There's absolutely no need for anyone to concern himself," she said

  quietly, a note of ste
el to her voice. There-she'd given Slater his out.

  "I consider myself in mourning. A dance would he completely out of the

  question."

  "Would it?" There was a core of steel to Jamie's voice, too. He managed

  to step past Dolly and catch her shoulders, and she thought he was

  furious as he gazed into her eyes. She couldn't understand him in the

  least.

  "I don't think so, Tess. Your uncle was a frontiersman, a fighter. I

  don't think he'd want you sitting around crying about what 53 can't be

  changed.

  He'd know damned well that life out here was hard, and sometimes awfully

  darned short and sweet, and he'd want you to live. And that's what

  you're good at, isn't it? Fighting--living?"

  "Lieutenant Slater, really, I" -- "Maybe it's just the fighting that

  you're so good at. Maybe you don't really know how to live at all."

  She cast back her head, ignoring the grip of his fingers upon her

  shoulders.

  She gritted her teeth hard, then challenged him hotly.

  "And you think you're the one who could teach me how to live,

  Lieutenant?

  Why, I'm not sure that you're more than a perfo~t Yankee mannequin

  yourself, Lieutenant."

  His lip curled. His grip on her shoulders suddenly relaxed.

  "Why don't you test me then, Miss. Stuart?"

  "Jamie Slater, that young girl is vulnerable right now" -- Dolly started

  to warn him, but Jamie and Tess both spun on her.

  "As vulnerable as a sharp-toothed cougar," Jamie supplied.

  "Never to the likes of him!" Tess promised. Dolly was silent. Soft

  laughter sounded, and Tess saw that it was Jon Red Feather laughing, and

  that he seemed quite pleased with the situation.

  "No wonder white men don't like Indians!" Jamie muttered darkly.

  "Sure. Keep the white folks at war with themselves, and half the battle

  is solved," Jon said pleasantly.

  "Jamie, come on. It's settled. You can pick up Miss. Stuart right after

  sunset."

  "Nothing is settled" -- Tess began.

  "Sunset!" Jamie said. He seemed to growl the word. And he didn't give

  her another second to protest, but slammed his way out the door. It

  closed with such a bang that even Dolly jumped, but then she smiled

  benignly.

  "I do just love that man!" Dolly said.

  Tess stared at her blankly.

  "Why?" she demanded. "Oh, you'll see," young lady. You'll see. And that