Apache Summer sb-3

by Heather Graham

  up on his bed, her dark hair damp and forming tiny ringlets to frame her

  face.

  She wasn't exactly naked, but her appearance would have been less

  decadent if she had been. She was wearing a lace corset he could almost

  see through, and which lifted her cleavage to bold new heights. She wore

  some kind of silk and lace pantalets, and nothing else.

  "I came to say goodbye," she told him huskily. "Eliza, you're a fool,"

  he told her irritably.

  "What the devil do you think you're doing in my room?"

  "Aren't you glad to see me?"

  "Frankly, no."

  She curled up on the bed, watching him like a cat.

  "I'm not letting you go off with that little blond slut."

  "Eliza, take a look at yourself and think about what you're saying."

  "I'm in love with you!" She stood and walked toward him, swaying, her

  lips parted and damp.

  "I'm in love with you, Jamie, why do you think I've made love with you?

  Do you think a secret rendezvous is all right, but you're afraid of me

  being here because of my father?"

  She had reached him. She started to slip her ams around his neck, but he

  caught her hands.

  "Eliza, I'm not afraid of your father. You should be. He'd send you back

  east in two seconds if he had the least idea about your trysts."

  "He'd make you marry me!"

  "No one will ever make me marry anyone."

  "You owe me!" She pouted.

  "Jamie, I've lain with you" -- "Hm. And half of Companies C, D and E,"

  he agreed. She freed a hand, ready to slap him. He caught her hand, and

  for a moment they were very close. Then he saw her smile. Smile like a

  wanton, with tremendous pleasure. She was looking over his shoulder.

  Tess was standing in the doorway. Chaste and beautiful with her golden

  ringlets piled atop her head, her pure white blouse buttoned to the

  throat, her full skirt navy and subdued, her only jewelry a brooch at

  her throat.

  She stood there, very still.

  "I was told by a young officer that you wanted to see me here,

  Lieutenant. I wouldn't have been so careless as to en85 ter myself, but

  he pushed open the door, and so here I am, to my great embarrassment.

  Good evening, Miss. Worthingham.

  Lieutenant, did you send for me?"

  "I did not!"

  "Then I must offer my apologies. Excuse me." She turned.

  "Wait a minute?" Jamie thundered.

  Tess ignored him.

  Eliza was laughing softly. He caught her and shook her hard.

  "You did this!"

  "Min. You'll never get beneath her skirts now, Jamie!" Eliza said

  happily.

  Jamie didn't reply. He shoved her from him and walked away. He didn't

  give a damn that he was barefoot or bare chested he was just glad he

  still had his trousers on. He didn't know why it was so damned important

  that he catch Tess, he only knew that it was.

  "Tess!"

  She was walking away from him, ignoring him. He caught up with her and

  took hold of her shoulders, swinging her around.

  "Tess!"

  "What?" She wrenched herself from his hold. He circled her, determined

  to catch her if she moved.

  "I

  called you! Why the hell didn't you stop?" Tess looked at him, wishing

  she could be half as calm or serene as she was pretending.

  She hadn't suspected a thing. The young soldier had appeared at her door

  just minutes ago, and he had been very proper, and she had imagined his

  mission to be a true one. Lieutenant Slater 'had requested her presence

  at his office.

  She hadn't even known that his office and his bedroom were connected.

  And she had thought that the summons sounded just like Jamie. He would

  give her some other trivial order about the next morning. Don't

  oversleep, don't be late, don't touch anything of mine that I set in

  your wagon.

  And so she had come without a thought. Without a single thought.

  She had never imagined what it would feel like to see him in another

  woman's arms. It had been awful seeing the brunette worse than naked,

  draped all over him. Her hair curling over his naked flesh. Her breasts

  cast against him, his arms locked upon her, the fever between them. She

  inhaled and exhaled. She wondered if she had heard the words right

  between them. No one can make me marry anyone. That was what he had said

  to her. Wasn't it?

  They had been lovers. He had all but admitted it. And maybe they would

  be again. Maybe he would take Tess to Wiltshire, and he would come back.

  Maybe he shouldn't go to Wiltshire. Because if he did, if they were

  together, they would become lovers. And maybe he would be just as cool

  to her. Maybe making love meant nothing at all to him, when the desire

  within her was something that had never happened before. It was special,

  unique, precious.

  But then again, she couldn't allow the brunette to win the game. Not

  this way. She didn't deserve to win anything this way.

  "Damn you, Tess, will you listen to me?"

  "I don't see what difference it makes, but go ahead." He stared at her

  hard.

  "That was a setup."

  She didn't reply. He caught her shoulders again, pulling her against

  him.

  "I'm telling you, it was a setup!"

  She still didn't reply, and he looked into his eyes and swore suddenly.

  "Why the hell am I explaining this to you?

  Think what you want, Miss. Stuart. To hell with you." He left her

  standing in the street. She heard his angry stride as he started away.

  "Lieutenant!" she called. She didn't turn around until she sensed that

  he had stopped. Then she turned to meet his eyes.

  "I'm very aware that what I just saw was a setup. I'm sorry for Miss.

  Worthingham, that she felt it necessary to put 87 on such a show.

  Perhaps you might want to provide her with a bit more tenderness or

  care."

  He swore and walked away.

  Tess smiled and started to her room. But then her smile faded. It had

  been a setup, but she had sent him right back to the enemy's arms.

  When she went to bed that night she lay awake in torture, wondering what

  had happened next. She had advised him to offer tenderness.

  Had he done so? Had he slept with the bewitching brunette in his arms,

  against his heart?

  She tossed and turned in wretched anxiety and she very nearly overslept.

  If it wasn't for the timely arrival of Dolly Simmons, she would have

  done so.

  "Up, up, now, Tess, dear! This is the cavalry, you know! Things are done

  by the dawn here. Lieutenant Slater will want to be on his way!"

  Dolly had brought coffee. She slipped a tin mug into Tess's hands, then,

  chatting, picked up things in the room.

  "What are you wearing, dear, this nice brown cotton? Perfect choice for

  a hot day on the trail. And just one petticoat-no corset, of course.

  You'll be much more comfortable that way.

  Come on, now, Lieutenant Siitter and Jon Red Feather are already out by

  the wagon." Tess gulped down the coffee and was grateful When Dolly

  helped her slip into the brown traveling dress she had chosen. Then she

  frow
ned, realizing that Dolly was dressed for travel in a mauve suit

  with a huge, wide-brimmed hat on her head.

  "Dolly?"

  "I'm coming with you, my dear."

  ' "You are?"

  "Yes. You don't mind, do you?"

  "No, no, I don't mind. It's just that ..." She paused. In the outpost,

  it had almost been possible to forget that yon Heusen offered death.

  "Dolly, no one wants to believe me, but it could be very dangerous for

  you."

  "Miss. Stuart!" Dolly drew herself up and looked terribly dignified--and

  menacing. It would take a hearty soul to go to battle against Miss.

  Simmons.

  "I have met danger all my life. I have lived in places that would make

  the ordinary woman's skin crawl. I have fought Apache, Comanche,

  Shoshone, Cheyenne and Sioux. I think that I will hold my own wherever I

  may go." She was quiet for a minute.

  "And besides," she added softly.

  "I've really nothing left here. I'd like to come with you.. I'm a wicked

  good cook, and I can organize any type of household in a matter of

  hours."

  Tess smiled.

  "Dolly, you're welcome," she assured her. She finished dressing quickly

  and stuffed the last of her belongings in a portmanteau. She and Dolly

  gave the room a last look, then they departed together.

  She almost didn't recognize Jamie when they came to the wagon.

  Instead of a uniform he wore a blue denim work shirt and pants and his

  knee-high boots. His sandy hair fell over his eyes as he cinched the

  girth on his huge horse, then cast her a quick stare.

  "It's about time."

  "It's barely dawn."

  He didn't reply, but nodded Dolly's way. He must have known that the

  older woman had determined on coming, because he didn't say a word about

  her appearance. "Get up--I want to get started. Jon and I will take

  turns driving with you--there's no reason for you to completely destroy

  your hands again. And for God's sake, keep your gloves on."

  "I can manage" -- He caught her arm as she was about to crawl up.

  "And don't tell me that anymore. I know you can manage. It's ]nst that

  you can manage better if you listen to me. Got it?" She saluted,

  gritting her teeth.

  "Got it, Lieutenant."

  She climbed up and took the reins and Dolly got up beside her. The mules

  were harnessed, Jon was mounted and two packhorses were tethered to the

  rear of the wagon. All was ready for their departure.

  Colonel Worthingham walked up as they were about to leave.

  "Goodbye, Miss. Stuart, good luck."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "Lieutenant, Red Feather, take care. Remember, we're here if you need

  us."

  "Thank you, sir!" Jamie wasn't in uniform, but he saluted smartly. The

  colonel stepped back.

  "Jamie! Jamie, take care!" Eliza ran dramatically from the shadow of the

  command post. She raced to Jamie's horse and clutched his hands where

  they lay casually over the reins.

  "Eliza, thank you, I'll be just fine," he said harshly. "Eliza, come

  back, dadin'. Lieutenant Slater has ridden out again and again. You know

  he always makes it back." The colonel set his hands on his daughter's

  shoulders, drawing her back. Eliza didn't even glance at Tess, but Tess

  felt the hostility that rose from her.

  She wondered again about what had happened after Jamie had left her last

  night, and she was infuriated that it should bother her so much, that it

  should hurt and dig into the very center of her being.

  Maybe he would turn around now. Eliza was stunning this morning, her

  hair ebony against a yellow dress, her eyes huge with anguish. Tess held

  her breath. Then she realized that Jamie had picked up his reins, that

  he was shouting to her, telling her they were going.

  She called out to the mules. The wagon rumbled forward.

  She didn't look back. She followed Jamie and Jon Red Feather through the

  open gates of the compound, and she sighed with a soft sound of relief

  as she heard the gates closing behind her. They were really on their

  way. Jamie Slater was coming with her. Eliza hadn't been able to

  convince him to stay.

  About last night. She didn't know. She just didn't know. She needed a

  gun, she reminded herself. She needed a gunman.

  It didn't matter that she wanted the man. If rumor was right, he was one

  of the fastest guns in the west.

  Maybe fortune was beginning to smile upon her just a little.

  And maybe, just maybe, she was setting herself up for the heartbreak of

  a lifetime.

  She couldn't think, and she couldn't worry. He was with her, and they

  were on their way, and for now, that just had to be enough.

  Chapter Five.

  Jamie Slater didn't seem to do anything by half measures. When he set

  out to move, he moved.

  They pushed hard throughout the morning, either Jamie or Jon riding

  ahead to scout out the road, the other riding with Dolly and Tess. Jamie

  was true to his word--some- where around midmorning he called a halt,

  and Jon came up to take over the reins of the wagon. Dolly and Jon were

  comfortable together, old friends who knew one another well and

  respected what they knew. And both of them seemed genuinely fond of

  Tess, which was nice.

  Dolly was full of stories. She didn't chatter, but she kept Tess amused

  with tales of Texas in times before Tess had been born.

  "Why, Will and I came out here long before Texas was a state. Before

  there was a Republic of Texas!

  And long, long before the Alamo. Why, I remember some of those boys, and

  it was a privilege to know them.

  Mountain men, they were good men. They were the stuff that Texans were

  made of. Will missed being at the Alamo by just a hairbreadth. He'd been

  sent out to deal with Cheyenne. By the time he came back, the boys were

  dead.

  They say that Davey Crockett was killed there, but that ain't true.

  The Mexicans took him prisoner, and they tortured him to death, that was

  what the boys said. He was a fiery old cuss.

  They never broke him. You can't break a mountain man. You can kill him,

  but you can't break him. Kind of like a Blackfoot, eh?"

  "A Blackfoot--or an Englishwoman, eh, Dolly?" Jon agreed, grinning.

  Dolly chuckled gleefully and agreed.

  Tess found herself studying Jon's handsome features. There was no

  denying that the man had Indian blood, proud blood. His cheekbones were

  wide and broad, his flesh was dark bronze.

  And his hair, too, was Indian, black as ink and straight as an arrow.

  But his eyes were a deep, startling green.

  He caught her studying him, and she blushed.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

  "It's all right. You're welcome to wonder about me. I'll tell you,

  because I like you. My father was a Blackfoot chief.

  My mother was the daughter of an English baronet."

  " A baronet?"

  "Urn. Sir Roger Bennington. Actually, he's a very decent old fellow."

  He smiled.

  "What does that make you?"

  Jori laughed softly.

  "A half-breed Blackfoot. Sir Roger did not marry his daughter to anr />
  Indian.

  She was kidnapped, but she discovered that she was in love with my

  father.

  She stayed with the Blackfoot until my father was killed. Then she went

  back to England. She died there."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. They were both happy while they lived." Tess hesitated.

  "Did you go to England with her? Is that where you acquired your

  accent?"

  "My accent?" he repeated.

  "Well, you don't sound like a Texan or an Indian."

  "I'm not a Texan, ~xeept by choice for the moment. I was born in the

  Black Hills. And my father was still alive when I went to England. My

  mother convinced him that a half breed needed every advantage. My mother

  knew that the Indian's day was dying. That the buffalo were being 93

  slaughtered.

  That the white men were going to push west, and push us west, until we

  were pushed fight into the sea or given deser/land as our reservations.

  Our prisons."

  He spoke hard words, but he spoke them softly.

  "You don't seem very bitter," Tess commented.

  "Bitter? I'm not. Bitterness is a wasted emotion. I ride with Jamie now

  because I choose to be with him. Some time this year, I'll go back to my

  father's people. And if the whim takes me, I'll go visit my grandfather

  in London. I enjoy the theater and opera there, and Grandfather is a

  hardy old cuss. I think he's actually damned pleased when people stare

  at his Indian grandson. Actually, I wear formal clothing rather well."

  He grinned ruefully, but then his grin faded as he studied her.

  "I love the west, too. I love horses, and the feel of a good one racing

  beneath me. I love my tribe, and I love this harsh, dry land. And I've

  stayed with Jamie because he knows people. He's spent most of his life

  fighting, but he still knows people. He goes to war with men, but he

  never attacks children."

  He gazed at her curiously, looking her up and' down, studying her.

  "Jamie believes you. He's come into Indian villages and seen what

  certain white men are capable of leaving behind. There are many men in

  the cavalry who think that an infant Indian is still an Indian, and that

  it will grow to put an arrow in someone's back. There was a lieutenant

  who liked to order his soldiers to shoot the women, then bash the

  infants' heads together to save bullets."

  "God, how awful."

  "Jamie knows about things like that. God knows, he saw enough of it