up beside it. The man spoke again.
"We've come far enough. Even if someone manages to find Slater's body,
they won't be able to track us. Not across the river. And we left plenty
of Comanche arrows behind. She still out, David?"
"Seems to be, Jeremiah."
"Well, that's good. Still, let's stop here for the night. By tomorrow
afternoon we'll meet up with the Comancheros and turn the girl over to
them."
Comancheros? Despite herself Tess felt a sizzle of terror sweep through
her.
They weren't exactly Mexicans, and they weren't exactly Indians; they
were a wild grouping of both who savagely lived off the land. They
raided, pillaged, murdered and raped without thought, and they made much
of their income by selling arms illegally to the Apache.
Von Heusen meant to have his revenge this time. He hadn't planned a
quick, easy death for her. He had consigned her to a living hell.
She couldn't let them give her to the Comancheros. Somehow, she was
going to get the best of these men. And if they had killed Jamie, she
had to see that they were brought to justice.
"Come on, let's get started setting Up a camp for the night," the man
David said. He started to dismount.
"Boy, that did feel good, swinging that club against that bastard
Slater.
After everything he did to us out at the Stuart place the other night, I
just wish I'd had time to gouge out his eyes."
"Or take ' '~" a scajp. Jeremiah suggested with laughter.
"Yeah--or take a scalp."
"Do you think Hubert and Smitty have made it back with the good word for
yon Heusen yet?"
"Probably. I told them to head straight back. Someone will find Slater's
body soon enough. We want to make sure we can't be blamed for it. Come
on, now, let's get her down and tied up before she comes to."
Jeremiah hopped off the horse. The one named David reached for her.
The one whose hands would be forever stained with the blood of Jamie
Slater.
Tess let out a wild scream when those hands touched her. She was ready.
He wanted to gouge out eyes? Her fingers were flying madly for his. She
caught him completely by surprise. He howled like an infant when her
nails swiped his face, missing his eyes but digging deeply into the
flesh of his cheek.
He stumbled, and she tried to right herself upon the horse.
The animal, panicked by the screams, reared high, its forelegs kicking
and flailing. Desperate as she was, Tess couldn't quite gain her
balance. The horse came down on four legs, kicking up great clouds of
dust, then rose, pawing the sunset-hued air once again. Tess went flying
into the bushes.
She lost her breath and lay stunned for several seconds. David and
Jeremiah were shouting at one another, David giving the orders.
"Get the horse! Get the fool horse! I'm going for the girl."
Fear spurred her aching and bruised limbs into action. She managed to
rise to her bare feet and race down a narrow trail between rows of dry
bush. Her feet encountered rocks and stickers, and she gasped out and
tried to pray.
Despite the pain she kept running. She felt as if her lungs would burst,
as if her calves would buckle, but she kept going, desperate to be free.
But arms suddenly swept around her legs, and she plunged forward into
the dirt. Mouthfuls of it seemed to choke her and fill her nose. She
gasped and choked and wheezed and finally managed to open her eyes.
David sat atop her, straddling her. He was still wearing a breech clout
and streaked theatrical paint, but he had discarded his black braided
wig. His own reddish hair looked strange against the melted bronze
paint, but matched the blood-red welts she had drawn across his face. He
wasn't much past his early twenties, and might even have been halfway
attractive if his way of life had not done things to his face and his
eyes. Both were cold, and there was a permanent twist of dissatisfaction
about his jaw. He smiled as he looked at her, enjoying her situation,
reveling in his power and in her misery.
She swung out again and managed to connect her fist against his cheek.
He swore and secured her wrists, then started laughing as he stared at
her.
"My, my, Miss. Stuart, it is a pleasure to see you this way!"
She was barely clad, she realized. Her chemise was dusty and pulled
high, leaving her midriff bare. And her cotton petticoat was rucked up
against her knees; her legs were bare 183 beneath it. As he stared at
her she felt sick.
She could see his intentions in his eyes, and she wanted to die. Not
long ago Jamie had whispered on the breeze that he thought he was
falling in love with her. And not long ago, he had taught her what it
was to feel feminine beyond belief, to know the beauty of a mutual
yearning, a soaring passion, all the sweet and fascinating things that
should be shared between a man and a woman. Not long ago. And now this
horrible man with blood on his hands was looking at her and laughing.
"I always did want to get to know you better, Tess!" he assured her.
He lowered himself against her. She twisted wildly, hating the feel of
his greased flesh, despising him. He tried to find her lips. She twisted
and thrashed and screamed, and still she felt him touching her.
"That's all right!" he hissed against her cheek.
"It's all right.
You'll come to like it soon enough. I'm real good. I'm real, real good.
I'll have you screaming in a way you just ain't imagined yet, honey. And
later on, you'll be grateful.
"Cause you're going to Nalte, one of the chiefs of the Mescalero Apache.
He's wanted a blond woman like you for a long time. They say he tried a
few raids to acquire one, but he kept coming up with brunettes. Our
Comanchero friends promised him a beautiful young blond white woman.
Nalte is tough, Miss. Stuart. You'll be real glad that I initiated you
into this ..."
He tried to secure both her wrists with one hand while he spoke. Tess
fought him like a wildcat, delaying his purpose but losing her strength
quickly.
Nalte? An Apache? Then the Comancheros were the delivery men. Von Heusen
was dealing with the Comancheros, and the Comancheros were dealing with
the Apache. She would be safe from the Comancheros. Because she was
meant for the Apache!
But she wasn't safe from David. She sobbed as she fought to free her
wrists. She threw his weight from her hips, but he seemed to enjoy
feeling her move against him. She twisted and sank her teeth into his
fingers.
He shouted out in pain and sat hard on her, plunging his fingers into
his mouth and stating at her murderously. Then his palm connected
sharply with her cheek, and the world seemed to spin. His hands were
upon her, upon her breasts, tugging at her petticoats.
"No!" she screamed in desperation and horror. But there was no one to
help her out here. Jamie was by the river, dead. The vultures might well
find his body before anyone else could.
David's hands were upo
n her, and he was tugging on her clothes. He was
about to violate the only beauty she had ever really dared to reach out
and hold.
"Get off her!" someone suddenly roared. And David was plucked away from
her.
Tess crawled quickly backward on her elbows. Her heart soared as she saw
that David and Jeremiah were involved in a fistfight with one another.
David was swinging and screaming at the same time.
"What the hell's the matter with you, Jeremiah? You can have your damned
turn when I'm done" -- "No! Von Heusen said no! He promised the chief an
in- noeent woman " -- "What do you think she was doing by the river with
Slater?"
"I don't know anything! I saw the girl washing her face, and I saw
Slater going for a swim. That's all I saw. Von Heusen promised the
Comancheros an innocent. And he made us swear not to touch her. I'm not
getting my balls shot off for your entertainment, and that's a damned
fact."
"I give the orders here" -- "Von Heusen gives the orders here!"
Tess realized that she was just staring at them. They were fighting like
madmen and not paying the least bit of at ten- 185 finn to her, and she
was just staring at them. She rolled over and stumbled to her feet. It
was time to start running again, before David convinced Jeremiah that
she was no innocent and that no one would ever know if the two of them
used her, too.
She hadn't gone three steps before fingers laced into her hair, dragging
her back. She gasped and sobbed, swinging and flailing out, but she was
so exhausted, and in so much pain, that she knew that no matter what her
will, she could not fight much longer.
"Stop it! Stop it! Come on, Miss. Stuart, calm down, and make the night
easier on all of us! I won't touch you, and he won't touch you, you
understand? Just calm down." It was Jeremiah who held her. He was as
young as David, she decided. He had lanky blond hair and colorless blue
eyes, but they didn't yet hold that absolute cold, cruel streak that
touched David's.
He almost smiled.
"I'm going to get you something to wear. Then I'm going to tie you up. I
have to. But I'll get you water, too, and something to eat. We're not
going to touch you."
"Speak for yourself!" David snarled from a few steps away.
"We're not going to touch her?" Jeremiah snapped. "We're going to turn
her over to the Comancheres, just like we promised yon Heusen."
Tess didn't know who would win out. Jeremiah kept a firm grip upon her
arm and pulled her along. She saw that there was a third horse on the
trail, and that a number of rolled packs were tied on the animal's back.
Jeremiah kept one hand and one eye on her as he tugged at the bundles to
free them.
When they fell to the ground, he pulled her down with him to dig into
one.
"Here," he said roughly.
"Take this. And get into it. But if you try anything funny, I'll turn my
back and close my ears and David can do whatever the hell he wants.
Understand?"
She understood. She hadn't the strength to fight them. She needed some
sleep. She needed a little time to think and plan.
She snatched the clothing Jeremiah handed her. Apache, she thought.
There were fine, soft trousers and a traditional blouse of buckskin with
beadwork and tin cone pendants. She slipped into the bushes with the
garments.
"You stay where I can hear you!" Jeremiah called. "I'm here!" she
replied.
The buckskin garments concealed much more than the tattered remnants of
her clothes had. She couldn't believe she could be grateful to Jeremiah
for anything, but she was glad of the clothing. If--not if, when! --she
found her opportunity to escape, she would be much better able to
weather the elements.
"You still there?" Jeremiah demanded.
Tess tossed her torn undergarments into the bushes and stepped 'out in
the Apache attire.
"She should have had a skirt. No warrior trousers," David commented.
"She couldn't ride in a skirt," Jeremiah retorted. Tess stood quietly.
Jeremiah was the one to work on, she thought. He seemed to have a few
human qualities left. She lowered her eyes and stood still.
"Miss. Stuart, you come over here and let me tie your hands," he said.
She didn't move.
"Please ..." she murmured softly. "Well ..." Jeremiah began.
"Well, nothing! She's taking you strictly for a fool, that's what she's
doing!" David strode over angrily and snatched the rope from Jeremiah's
hands. He walked roughly toward Tess. Seeing his face, she almost
panicked.
She almost ran.
"Try it. I'd love it if you did!" he told her, his eyes narrowing. He
meant it. He liked the chase, he liked the fight and he even liked the
smell of blood.
She held out her hands mutely. David looped the rope around them
tightly, tugging hard on the knot. Then he caught her arm and dragged
her past the horses to the center of the little clearing where they had
paused. He shoved her down to her knees and warned her, "Sit! Just sit?
He looked over to Jeremiah.
"There's a creek down past the scrub bush over there. Nothing much. But
you can go get rid of that paint. Then I'll decide if I trust you to
keep an eye on her so I can do the same!"
Jeremiah hesitated.
"Don't you go getting' no ideas, now, David Birch."
"I ain't going to get any ideas! I want to get this blasted paint off,
and that's all!"
Jeremiah walked to the bundles and picked up a satchel of clothing.
He stared at David, then walked toward the brush.
Tess kept her eyes on David. He smiled as he watched her in turn.
"You think you're going to get around Jeremiah, don't you? Well, you're
not going to. I'm going to see to that.
You're going to reach old Chief Nalte, and then you won't have to worry
about writing those rabble-rousing pieces in that newspaper of yours
anymore, ever again.
You'll have lots of other things to think about." He cackled with
laughter.
"Lots and lots of other things. Like raising a whole little troop of
papooses, yeah." ,. Tess edge~l-around in the dirt, turning her back on
him.
He laughed all the harder, then he came forward and jerked her head back
so her eyes watered as they met his.
"I'm going to enjoy knowing where you are. Just like I enjoyed hearing
Slater's skull crush this morning. I really got a kick out of that."
She forced herself to smile.
"Maybe his skull didn't crush," she said very softly.
David gritted his teeth and yanked harder on her hair. "He's gone, lady.
Dead and gone. And you don't need to worry about that no more, either."
He walked away, leaving her in peace at last. In time, Jeremiah
returned, and he became her silent guard.
She hadn't the energy to say anything to him. They sat in silence while
the darkness fell upon them. When David re.
turned, the two men made a fire. There was cold chicken to eat and water
from canteens, but they wouldn't un
tie Tess's hands, and the effort to
eat suddenly seemed too great. She left the food, sipped some water and
lay down in the dirt.
She tried to tell herself that Jamie was alive. Any minute now he would
come rushing out from the bushes and kill the two men and take her away.
But he did not come. She closed her eyes in misery and tried to forget
the nightmare visions of the day.
Jeremiah came over and tossed a blanket around her shoulders and shoved
a pack beneath her head for a pillow.
"Don't think about going nowhere," he warned her. David obviously didn't
think the warning was enough. He stood and walked to the piles by the
packhorse and came back with a good length of rope. She tried to inch
away from him, but he tied one end of the rope around her ankle.
Pinching her cheek, he spoke directly into her face.
"If you move, I'll feel it. If you run, I'll make you pay for it." He
walked away with the other end of the rope in his hand.
It didn't really matter. If she had been threatened by evexy demon in
hell, she couldn't have run that night. She was too weary. Tears stung
her eyes.
When she closed them, she saw Jamie again, fighting, then falling. And
she heard his whisper.
I think I'm falling in love with you. It hurt to close her eyes; it hurt
to open them. She prayed for sleep against the nightmare images. She
tried to tell herself that he was still alive. But he would have come
for her if he was alive. He would have come.
And if he was not alive, well, then, she didn't want to live, either.
Jamie was alive, if only just barely.
Jori found him around midnight, when the moon was full and high. The
wagon had come home without Jamie or Tess, but very late. Jon had to try
and track them from town in the darkness, and even when he had found
signs that the wagon had stopped and the two of them had walked toward
the river, it still took him time to find Jamie's still, crumpled body.
He drew off his buckskin jacket and wrapped it around his friend. He
touched the wound at Jamie's temple where the blood had dried. Carefully
moving his fingers over the skull, he decided that it was not cracked or
crushed. He took his kerchief to the river and soaked it and brought it
back to Jamie, cleansing the bloo~way. Jamie's body was icy cold.
He needed warmth, and quickly.
Jon rose carefully and lifted his friend's body into his arms. He called
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