He dropped the knife, his hands clawing first at his throat, then his stomach, as he made a thin whining sound. Then he dropped to his knees, still holding his belly, and pitched forward onto his face.
Jacie wasted no time. Grabbing up her satchel along with Black Serpent's knife, she made her way quickly down from the rocky alcove and on past the other Indians, who appeared to be sleeping deeply.
She went to where the ponies were tethered and selected a pinto that looked a bit stronger than the rest, leading him a short distance before throwing a blanket over his back. Tying on the satchel, she walked him farther from the camp before mounting and galloping away.
* * *
The sun was high in a cloudless sky and seemed to melt into a shapeless bed of golden flame as it stretched to touch the faraway mountains.
Jacie shielded her eyes and tried to figure out where she was. The Trinity River ran from northwest to southeast; she knew because she had asked Tehlwah its course when they had made camp that last night. She did not know why she wanted to know, except that since leaving home, she had the need to have some idea, at all times, of where she was. It made her feel less apprehensive, somehow, about constantly being in new surroundings.
Jacie made a mental note of when they had crossed the river, estimating they had ridden an hour or more after doing so before entering the shadowed ravine. She had dozed after that but guessed it had been another hour's ride before they got to the camp. Several times she had glanced upward to find the north star and suspected that they had gone through the ravine to keep parallel to the river so they would not pass directly by the settlement of Fort Worth, which was where she wanted to go.
Her stomach rumbled. Many hours had passed since she had eaten at the fort. She was weak and weary but plodded onward, knowing that when the Indians finally woke up to find their leader drugged and sick, they would come after her. She had to get to the settlement as fast as possible or they might overtake her—and God help her if they did.
Back in Georgia, Jacie knew, signs of autumn would be everywhere, the hills and ridges burning with red and yellow and orange as the leaves offered a spectacular farewell before falling to the ground. But here the earth shimmered with waves of heat. Her dress, soaked with sweat, clung to her, and her hair hung limp and damp. She could feel her skin burning from the relentless sun.
She tried to push thoughts of food from her mind but wondered how long she could go without proper sustenance. She felt herself growing weaker as the day wore on, and it was getting harder and harder to stay on the pony's back. She would feel herself slipping, about to fall but mercifully would rally at the last instant to wrap her fingers in the pony's mane and haul herself back into position.
To get her mind off eating, and the heat, and the seriousness of her situation, she tried to turn her thoughts to Michael, and how perhaps she should have told him everything.
No. She shook her head firmly. She had to do it her way. Still, she drifted to think how protected he made her feel when he held her in his arms, and the sweetness of his kisses, and what a comfort it had been to hear him vow that she would never have to worry about anything ever again in her whole life once they were married. He would always take care of her. She'd not have to worry her pretty little head, he would laugh and say, because he would do everything for her. To be sheltered and cherished, that would be her life as Mrs. Michael Blake.
Jacie could not help laughing aloud—a weird sound in the barren wilderness—to wonder what Michael would think if he could see her right then. She had journeyed all the way from Georgia to Texas with a Cherokee medicine man only to be abducted by a Comanche Indian and threatened with rape and death. Now she was weak and racked by hunger and, God help her, completely lost. But she was still alive, undaunted and determined to survive. Hardly the image of a genteel planter's wife in ruffles and lace. Michael would be amazed. And surely he would be impressed by her courage. She was certainly impressed with herself, and when it was all over, she would tell him and describe it all in detail, and he would know her for the strong woman she was and surely respect her all the more for it.
Her head began to loll. It was getting harder and harder to sit on the pony. He was moving slowly. She dared not urge him into a faster gait for she could never hold on then. She could see green in the distance, a cluster of trees. If she could make it there, she would rest, if only for a little while. But then she felt herself falling again. This time, she was unable to rally in time to hold on.
She was unconscious by the time she hit the ground.
* * *
Luke knew something had happened when he came in sight of the fort. The gates were wide open and a patrol was riding in, met by one headed out. He could see a hubbub of activity inside and could feel an air of tension all around him.
Riding toward the departing soldiers, he recognized Sergeant Major Ward Stackhouse and hailed him to ask what was going on.
"Damn Injuns made a hole in the southeast corner of the fence and broke in to raid the arsenal. They got away with a hell of a lot of guns. Ammunition, too."
Luke's teeth ground together to think of what it meant. "Any idea which tribe was responsible?"
"Comanche," Stackhouse said flatly, aware some of his men were casting hostile glances at Luke.
While they knew he was a good scout, they were wary of him, especially now, after what had happened.
"How can you be sure?"
"Hell, Luke, I know a Comanche when I see one. We caught one as he was scrambling through the hole."
"Is he still alive?"
"No. Had to shoot him. He wouldn't surrender. Kept swinging a tomahawk. He's Comanche, all right. And it's worse than just stealing, by the way," Stackhouse added. "A soldier was killed. Stabbed."
Luke reined his horse in the direction of the fort as Stackhouse called out, "Hey, aren't you gonna ride with us to try and track them devils?"
"You won't find them, and I've got business to tend to."
Stackhouse was about to tell him that a woman had been taken, but Luke rode away before he could do so.
Luke hurried on to the fort, hoping the Indian's body had not been disposed of. It hadn't, and his suspicions were confirmed when he recognized one of the young bucks who had chosen to follow Black Serpent. Now he knew beyond a doubt who was responsible for all the trouble.
Hearing Luke was at the fort, Captain Logan sent for him to tell him he wanted him to head up the next patrol going out. "You know those bastards better than anyone else. They're your people. You know what to look for."
Luke frowned. If he was off on patrol, he couldn't keep an eye on the woman. Maybe last night's trouble had scared her into wanting to leave. "I hear there is a white woman here who thinks her mother is living among the Comanche."
Logan paled to think how it was bad enough that under his command the fort had been robbed by Indians without the added humiliation of having a young lady abducted. With marks like that against him, he would never get his transfer back east and would likely wind up being sent to the least desirable post in the west. Maybe he would even be stripped of his rank. He didn't want to think about it and had made up his mind, during the tortured hours of the night, to whitewash the situation as much as possible, but he saw no reason to discuss it with an Indian, for heaven's sake. "That's no concern of yours. I gave you orders. Be ready to move out with the next patrol."
Luke noticed the captain's unease. "I want to know what is to be done with her. Is the army going to help her in her search?"
"Hell, no!" Logan cried, exasperated, then tested the lie he had conjured to paint a less grim picture of what might be considered the dereliction of his duties. "The Comanche themselves are going to help her. She went with them willingly last night." He knew that could not be so but was clutching at straws.
Luke knew it too but felt as if he'd been slammed in his gut to hear she was now in the hands of Black Serpent. "I want to know her name," he said through tightly clenched t
eeth.
Logan did not like the almost maniacal gleam in the scout's black eyes and decided maybe if he answered him, he would leave. And what difference did it make if he told him, anyway? "Her name is Miss Jacie Calhoun."
"And what makes you think she would go with the Comanche willingly?"
"Oh, hell, I don't know. All I do know is that she didn't scream or make any sound. Nobody heard anything till the guard that got stabbed hollered out. But all that's got nothing to do with you. Now get out of here. You've got your orders." Logan bolted to his feet and pointed to the door.
"You don't think she went with them willingly at all," Luke said quietly, coldly, all the while wondering if the woman could actually have been lured out after mistaking Black Serpent for him. But Logan could not know that. He was just trying to make the situation less embarrassing personally.
He turned on his heel and left.
Logan did not protest, because as badly as he needed Luke to try and track down the Indians, the expression on Luke's face had chilled him to the very marrow of his bones.
He was glad to have him go his own way.
Chapter 17
Jacie did not want to wake up, but something was nudging her foot, hard. She forced her eyes to open, then instantly shrank back in horror.
The man was framed by the setting sun, a flaming red and gold halo streaming around him. He stood with fists at his hips, legs wide apart as he stared down at her.
Horrified to think Black Serpent had found her, his name instinctively escaped Jacie's lips, but when the man spoke, she knew it was her original nocturnal visitor.
"I am not Black Serpent. My name is Luke. And you needn't be afraid. I won't hurt you."
Her panic lessened but only a little, because she was still scared out of her wits. She thought of the knife she had stolen from Black Serpent, which she had tied to her ankle, but realized he must have seen it, for her skirt was tangled up about her knees.
He stepped to one side, and the sun was suddenly blinding in her face. She raised her hands to shield her eyes, then held them out to fend him off as he dropped to one knee beside her. "Don't touch me," she said hoarsely, angrily. "This is all your fault, anyway. If I hadn't thought Black Serpent was you, I'd never have walked out that door so trustingly."
"I can't help it if you mistook someone else for me. Now drink. You need water." He raised her head and held a canteen to her lips. She drank eagerly, but he withdrew after she had taken only a few sips. "Too much will make your stomach hurt. Now tell me how you escaped."
Suspiciously, she said, "You're one of them. Why should I tell you anything?" Then she noted how he was dressed. Though bare-chested, he wore army trousers tucked into knee-high boots. His hair hung all the way to his shoulders. An Indian in stolen clothes, no doubt. "Did you kill a soldier to get that outfit?" she asked sharply.
"Get something straight, Miss Calhoun. I'm not one of Black Serpent's followers. I'm an army scout... sometimes. And you can trust me. I swear it."
"And how is it that you know my name?"
"I asked Captain Logan. But that's not important. I want to know how you were able to get away from Black Serpent."
"There was whiskey in some of the boxes they stole from the fort. They got drunk and passed out." She was not about to confide she had drugged Black Serpent. That was her secret, and just because this man said he could trust her didn't mean she would do so.
"So you stole a pony and rode away," he said, admiring her courage.
"Yes, I rode all day, but I must have passed out from hunger and the heat. It's a wonder they didn't find me before you did."
"Well, I sure didn't have any trouble, but I've seen Black Serpent and his friends when they drink too much. They probably don't feel like coming after you and may not bother anyway, since they got what they were really after—guns and ammunition. But I'm not taking any chances." He allowed her a few more sips of water, then stood and held out his hand to her. "We need to get out of here." He felt sure Black Serpent had not told her about Sunstar, or she'd have been screaming to high heavens, demanding to be taken to her.
Jacie raised up on her elbows. "I don't want to go back to Bird's Fort. Captain Logan isn't doing anything to help me find my mother. I'd rather go to Fort Worth."
"I'll decide what to do with you later when we get a chance to talk. Right now, we're getting out of here."
Jacie allowed him to help her up but stood her ground when he started walking toward his horse, a huge white stallion. "Mister, I can't see that we've got anything to talk about. You know why I came here in the first place, but you don't want to help me, so the least you can do is point me in the right direction."
He turned to sweep her with an amused gaze of scrutiny. She had spunk. Spirit. He admired that. Another woman probably would not have managed to escape Black Serpent in the first place, much less stand up to a stranger in the wilderness. But he was losing patience. He had seen the Indian on horseback watching from a distant rise and thought he recognized him as one of Black Serpent's men. He had turned back, no doubt to report what he had seen, and Luke wanted to get the hell out of there. If they caught up with him, he would have to face a dozen men by himself, and he had to consider the safety of the woman.
"Well are you going to help me get to Fort Worth or not?" She was annoyed by the way the corners of his mouth quirked in a smile, as though he found her an amusing child. "If not, then I'll manage on my own somehow."
She looked around for her pony and saw that he had maneuvered himself up to a rocky ledge to nibble at a patch of wildflowers. She was relieved to see the satchel was still tied on, and she lifted her skirt to climb up, then saw that her knife was no longer strapped to her leg.
In response to her accusing glare, Luke said, "I figured it was asking for trouble letting you keep it."
"I'd like it back, please. If I'm going to be traveling alone, I need some protection."
"You would only hurt yourself." He clambered up quickly to grab the pony's reins and bring him back to level ground before adding, "Besides, you aren't going to be traveling alone. Like it or not, you're coming with me."
"And just what do you plan to do with me? I told you, I'm not going back to Bird's Fort."
"And I never said that's where I'm taking you. Now are you going to get on your pony or do you want me to throw you on him?"
He would, too; she could tell by the smug way he was watching, waiting for a chance to make good his threat. She swung up onto the pony's bare back. "Some soldier you are," she lashed out at him, "refusing to help a lady."
"I never said I was a soldier, and I haven't made up my mind that you're a lady."
"I'm very much a lady, but the behavior of others forces me to forget that sometimes. You needn't concern yourself with me any longer. Good day." Jacie dug her heels into the pony's flanks and popped the reins to send him into a swift gallop. She would find her own way, by God.
Ahead loomed mountains, in between were rock formations. If she could get far enough, maybe she could hide from him, and—her heart turned over at the sound of the thundering hooves coming on strong. She was a fool to think the little pony could outrun the stallion.
In seconds Luke was upon her, reaching out to grab the reins and snatch them away from her, bringing both mounts to an abrupt halt. "You try that again and I'll hog-tie you and throw you across his back. Now just calm down, because I don't have time for your tantrums."
Her mouth twisted with scorn. "I'm not going anywhere with a damn heathen Indian—"
"You're too pretty to be using such language. And I'm not a heathen. I'm very well educated."
"Black Serpent spoke English. Am I supposed to believe he's educated?"
He laughed. "I taught him. I also learned Spanish at the mission school, and I speak the languages of all the Plains Indians. I consider myself civilized and peaceful, like the rest of my band. Forget Black Serpent. He's no longer one of my people. That's all you need to know for now."<
br />
Jacie was annoyed by his arrogance and pushed aside any admiration she might have felt to discover how learned he was. "You still haven't told me why you won't help me."
Still holding her reins, he kneed his horse into a gentle trot, keeping the pony right beside him. "I am helping you."
"You refuse to take me where I want to go."
"I might change my mind later." He noticed the lavender flowers blooming among the rocks they passed and thought out loud, "Your eyes are the same color."
Jacie could have told him how she came by her name but didn't. It was none of his business. Besides, she was beginning to fear she was no better off than when she was with Black Serpent, and that she must again be ready to seize any chance of escape.
Luke was struck to think how there might actually have been a survivor of that long-ago massacre; the girl could have been the infant for whom Sunstar's milk was intended. But there was no time to ponder the situation now.
He took a strip of dried buffalo meat from a saddlebag and gave it to her. "This will have to do till we make camp, and then I can fry up some bacon and beans. You're nothing but skin and bones. I don't know why they even wanted you, but at least they led me to you."
He nodded skyward with a crooked smile, and Jacie also looked up to see large gray birds circling in a giant sweeping pattern. "Vultures," he said.
Jacie shuddered and began to chew the buffalo meat with a vengeance.
He gave her back the reins, confident she would not be so foolish as to try to outrun him again.
When they came to a stream, Luke led them down the middle for quite a distance. Finally leaving the water, Jacie watched as he used a knife—not hers, she noted—to hack two large branches from a scrub brush, securing one to each horse's tail. She saw that any tracks made in the dirt and sand were obliterated by the sweeping motion.
"That's smart," she said, as though she really didn't think so. "But tracks won't be seen at night anyhow."
Tin-Stars and Troublemakers Box Set (Four Complete Historical Western Romance Novels in One) Page 112