Black Serpent would be the first, because he was the one who took Jacie from the protection of the soldiers.
Then Michael would glory in gunning down the one who now held her captive—the warrior known as Howling Wolf.
* * *
They had made love all night long, and when dawn kissed the dark away, they lay with their arms wrapped about each other, each held prisoner by thoughts too intimate to share.
Jacie did not want to leave Luke and knew a part of her never would. But she also knew she must go before they reached a point of no return. Michael waited, with all his love and goodness, and now she wished she had never left him, had never tasted the wonders that would haunt her forever, and she prayed that he would never sense that she longed for another.
Turning to look into Luke's pensive eyes, she could see he was locked in musing over his own emotions just then. "What is going to happen to you?"
He shared his plans for going to Mexico in the spring. "It's beautiful there. Tall mountains with much game, and cool, green forests, and enough land that we can plant crops and farm and settle down. Most of all, we can find peace there to raise our children, educate them. The life we knew here no longer exists. We must make a new life, in a new land—or perish. I won't lead my people to a reservation."
"Or into a battle they can no longer win," she murmured.
His smile was tender, and he reached to lovingly brush her hair from her face. "All of life is a battle that can't ever be won, Jacie. We all die in the end. It's how we survive in the years before that count. We have to live them as happily as we can."
"Happy..." Jacie spoke the word almost dreamily, allowing it to roll about in her mind as revelation dawned. "I realize now that never in my whole life have I asked to be happy. I just didn't want to be unhappy."
Luke told himself to hold back, not to ask the question that smoldered in his heart like coals in a fire, but he could not refrain. "Is that how you will be with your husband? Not unhappy?"
"I suppose." She rested her head against his shoulder once more, not wanting to talk about it.
Luke rolled onto his side, sliding his hand up and down the curves of her body, enjoying the feel of her. "Why did you come here, Jacie?" He asked suddenly, soberly.
She was surprised by such a question. "To find my mother, of course. What other reason would I have had for leaving the only home I've ever known to come to a wilderness?"
"The Indians have a saying. A person should be careful what he looks for, because he might find it."
She was jolted to remember how Mehlonga had said the same thing and told Luke that, adding, "I still don't understand what it means."
"You will. When your heart is ready to understand. Till then, it means nothing." He brought his mouth down to hers, kissing her deeply. The world seemed to stand still, and Jacie prayed that it always would, that this wondrous moment would never, ever end.
Clutching him tightly against her, she thought how it would be heaven to wake up every morning of her life in his arms. No matter they had not been together long. She knew that what they shared could not be easily found, not in this lifetime. And with tears of regret stinging her eyes, she mourned the reality of knowing she would never, ever experience it again.
When at last he raised his lips, he took her hand and placed it against his chest, then put his against her breast. "You have to return to your world, and I must go back to mine. And though we will never see each other again, our hearts have touched. I will never forget you."
"Nor I you..." She pulled his face down for another kiss that left both of them shaken, and she then scrambled to her feet so he would not see that she was crying.
But he knew, yet could not offer comfort. True, he could tell her about her mother, ask that she stay and live with her, with him—and then fear that one day she would regret having done so. No. He shook his head solemnly as he made ready to leave, allowing Jacie time to wander off and calm herself. He would not ask her to stay, for to do so meant committing his whole heart. All he had been able to bring himself to do was allow her to briefly touch it.
They rode into the day, Jacie sitting in front of him as he held her tightly, the pony trailing behind. They hardly spoke. There was nothing left to be said. It was over.
She was returning to a world she should never have left.
And Luke would go back to the one he could never leave.
As the earth became shadowed with misting hues of red and gold, they topped a knoll overlooking the Angeline River and the settlement of Nacogdoches came into view. Luke pointed to a fortlike structure made of stone. "The stagecoach leaves from there. I can see it is dark and closed now. You can find a room for the night at the hotel, but go there tomorrow and ask for a man named Howard Carson. Tell him you are my friend, and that I will see that he gets paid for your passage east. He will take good care of you."
"I have some money." She was fighting tears again and anxious to be on her way lest she break down.
He did not dismount but helped her slide to the ground. He did not want to look at her and stared straight ahead. "Do as I say. You might need your money along the way for food. Take the pony. Leave him with Carson as security for your ticket. Go now, before it gets any darker."
"Thank you," she managed to say around the lump in her throat. "I wish you a long and safe life, Luke."
"Go and do not be"—he could not resist looking at her one last time—"unhappy." The smile he offered was sad.
Through a veil of tears, she watched him disappear into the purpled night.
It would be a long journey home. Maybe the stage would not leave for a few days, giving her time to rest, to buy some new clothes. She hoped so, and she really did not care how long it took to get back to Georgia, because she was not looking forward to facing Michael and having to tell him the truth about everything—everything except Luke. That was the secret she would carry in her heart all the way to her grave, the secret longing for what was... what could never be.
Wiping her eyes, Jacie rode into town. A few men were still out on the street, and they stared curiously at the sight of what they took to be an Indian girl, all alone. But in her misery, she was oblivious to anything around her—until someone yelled in an ugly tone, "What're you doing here, squaw? We don't want no squaws here."
She looked at him with disdain, then saw she was right in front of a sign that read ROOMS. She dismounted.
"I said..." The man came running over, his face twisted with anger. He was followed by two others. "I said we don't want no squaws here. Now you just ride back out of here, and there won't be no trouble."
"No, there won't be," she said frostily, "because I am not a squaw. I am white. Now I am going to go into this hotel and get a room, and have a bath, and then I will find a store somewhere that will sell me a dress. Then I will look white. Will that make you happy?"
"Well, yeah, sure," he said uneasily, then stiffened. "But how come you're dressed in that dirty skin dress if you ain't no squaw?"
She laughed shortly. "I don't see where that's any of your business, mister."
"I'd say it is. I think you're a breed."
"No. Both my parents were white," she said sweetly, all the while thinking how rude he was.
"Then you been livin' with Indians. Is that it? You been livin' with them savages, and if you have, that makes you one of 'em."
"If I have, it's still none of your concern," she said, dismounting. She hitched the pony to the rail and started up the hotel steps.
His friends snickered at how she had stood up to him, which made him even madder. "Well you just go get yourself cleaned up, and then we'll decide whether you can stay."
She was halfway up the steps but whirled about to stare at him. "But if I look like an Indian, I can't? Why is that?"
"We don't want redskins in our town." He struck the air with his fist. "Dirty, stealin', no-account murderin' redskins. The only good Indian is a dead Indian."
His frien
ds cheered in approval.
Jacie realized that this was what Luke had meant when he said if she found her mother and took her back she would be miserable. Prejudice was everywhere. Cold, cruel, mean.
All of a sudden she did not want to go inside the hotel. She went back down the steps, untied her pony, and led him down the street and back out of town, the laughter of the men echoing behind her. She would camp in the woods and tomorrow morning would seek the man Luke had told her about, Howard Carson. If he were friends with Luke, he would not be rude. He would help her get back to... what?
She stood frozen in the darkness.
What exactly was she going back to? And what, exactly, had she been looking for when she came west?
Had it really been her mother?
Placing her hand against her breast, she was stunned to feel the warmth radiating. It was as though Luke were actually touching, caressing, her heart, her soul. Was he thinking of her in that instant?
And that was when she heard the whisper from deep within, warmth spreading throughout her body, coursing through her veins, as her heart began to actually burn with the intensity of the love she was feeling... for it was the message she had longed to hear—but not what she had expected, for it spoke not of Michael.
Instead, her heart was whispering with love for Luke.
In that moment, as the moon slipped from behind a silver-tipped cloud in the magenta sky, Jacie knew she had, indeed, been looking for something besides her mother—and she had found it. It was called happiness, the one thing she had never sought before, fearing it was beyond her grasp.
But did she dare reach for it now?
And was she willing to fight to hang on to it if she did?
It would not be easy to enter the world of the Comanche, but her own mother had done so, had actually chosen that life over the one she had been born into when given the chance to return to it. And even though Jacie could not be completely sure she was able to do likewise, she knew she had to try. To turn her back now would leave her with an emptiness inside never to be fulfilled, and that would not be fair to Michael, who certainly did not deserve to have a wife who secretly pined for another man.
And didn't she owe something to herself as well?
Wasn't it time she stopped robbing herself of true joy by attempting to avoid misery? Already, only minutes after parting from Luke, Jacie felt as though a part of her was missing. What would it be like in the years to come?
She did not want to find out.
She mounted the pony and urged him into a gallop in the direction Luke had gone.
Night wrapped about her, and with the moon slipping in and out of the clouds, it was hard to see anything.
What if she could not find him?
What if he were gone to her forever?
Don't let it be too late, she prayed, every nerve screaming as desperation surged. She called out to him, the sound echoing forlornly in the night....
Finally, surrounded by empty darkness, she knew it was hopeless.
He had ridden away, hard and fast. Now it really was over, and God forgive her, in that moment she did not want to live....
But then the clouds parted once more, and she gasped at the sight of him. Bathed in moonlight, he was sitting on the stallion on the rise just ahead.
Luke saw her and gave thanks he had not been able to force himself to ride away just yet, hoping against hope she would come to him.
Leaping to the ground, she began to run toward him, sobbing his name over and over, her arms outstretched.
Luke jumped from his own horse and ran to meet her, grabbing her and swinging her up and around and around. Then he gently lowered her to her tiptoes and searched her face in a frantic attempt to assure himself she knew what she was doing.
"It's the point of no return, Luke," she whispered raggedly, fervently. "I can't go back. I know now it was you I was looking for all along, because my heart has spoken to me at last. It tells me that I love you." Pressing her head against his chest, she hugged him with all her might.
"Are you sure, little one?" he asked softly.
She twined her arms about his neck to pull his face down to hers. "I've never been so sure of anything in my life."
He kissed her then, long and hard, and they clung together as Jacie reveled in the knowledge that Mehlonga had been right.
Her heart had spoken, and thank God, she had listened.
Chapter 23
They rode north across land that seemed monotonous. A cloud sending a shadow to earth was comfort for their burning eyes. The soil was gray; the vegetation sparse. Scattered sagebrush, Spanish dagger, prickly pear cactus clumped here and there.
Along the way they spotted herds of buffalo, and Jacie teasingly warned Luke not to dare think of trying to bring one down. He said there was no time, because he was anxious to reach his people. But he pointed out to her how the bulls had shed most of their long hair, and she could see how fat the brown calves were as they trailed at the cows' flanks.
They did not lack for food. Luke killed a deer, so they had fresh meat for a few nights. Jacie had little trouble coaxing him to catch fish when they passed a stream, and they munched on hard, green prairie plums, which were plentiful.
It was a relief to finally reach the Red River and the cottonwood trees growing along its banks like giants. Their whitish-gray furrowed trunks were bigger than Luke could reach around, and they towered above with rustling leaves to offer the respite of cooling shade.
Still, Luke did not tarry, explaining he needed to get to the winter camp to help prepare for winter.
They talked constantly as they rode, eager to learn as much as possible about each other.
One day, as Jacie rode astraddle in front of Luke, the pony trailing behind them, he began to talk about his father. She was impressed to hear how Great Bear had changed from a warlike chief to one seeking peace for all of his people. But she was sickened and horrified when Luke described his life prior to his conversion. He admitted to taking part in raids on white settlements, to killing people, burning their homes, stealing horses, livestock. "I'm not proud of those days, Jacie," he said. "But you must understand I knew no other way of life then. Once I went to the missionary school, I knew I could never again take a life except to save my own."
"I'm surprised your father let you go. He didn't know any other way, so why would he want you educated, knowing it would probably change you completely? And what made him change himself and want peace?"
Luke chose his words carefully. To explain fully meant telling Jacie about Sunstar and her influence on his father, which he was not ready to do. "He was a wise man. He realized the world was changing and the way of the Indian could not continue."
"Then he was afraid your people would eventually be defeated by the white man's settlement of the west."
"No. That was not his thinking. The Comanche were defeating themselves. We had already been tested by a century of warring with Spaniards and enemy tribes and had been victorious. Every man was a strong warrior, wily, intelligent, courageous even to death. We knew the land intimately and fought when and where we chose. Texans feared and hated us. No." He shook his head for emphasis. "My father did not fear the Comanche as a whole could be defeated. It was only when they began to fight among themselves that they started getting weak."
"You're talking about warriors like Black Serpent and his men?"
"Partially, but you see the Comanche divided into a number of self-governing bands with no real unified leadership, which made them incapable of sticking together to fight either a tribal or a national war. Instead of attacking with organized armies, they had nothing but angry war parties. It's still true. That's why they will eventually be beaten, and why I plan to take my band to Mexico. We've always been nomadic, another weakness. It's time we settled down."
"In Mexico," Jacie said with a shiver of anticipation at the thought of the new life awaiting, so different from anything she had ever known before. Then apprehen
sion crept over her once more, and she asked, "What is going to happen when we get to your camp? How are your people going to feel about your bringing me there?"
"At first, they'll consider you my captive."
"Does that mean I will share your tepee as your... wife? Or do you already have one?” she asked fearfully.
Luke decided to tease her. "Actually a Comanche can have more than one wife. He inherits his wife's younger sisters, and he can always steal women from enemy tribes. Then there's the custom we also practice called the levirate, when brothers lend one another their wives."
Jacie asked uneasily, "Do you have brothers?"
"No." Luke was having a difficult time keeping a straight face.
She twisted sideways to see the twinkle in his eye. "And you don't have any other wives, do you? If you did, you wouldn't be bringing me back, because you know I'd never agree to being part of a harem."
"Harem?" Luke repeated, unfamiliar with the term.
"That's when a man has many wives, concubines they're sometimes called, another word for lovers, mistresses, a group of women a man takes turns bedding."
"Well, I don't have a harem. Or a wife. But you'll have to sneak into my tepee after everyone has fallen asleep. It's the custom."
She laughed. "I'll do nothing of the kind. Making love out here on the trail is different. No one knows about it. But sneaking around like that, chancing someone might find out, well, that's something a woman of ill repute would do."
"Not if it's a custom they were raised with. Sexual relations before marriage aren't encouraged by my people, but they aren't punished, either, because a man doesn't marry at an early age. He has to gain a reputation as a hunter and warrior, first, because that puts him in a good position to take the girl of his choice for his wife. So boys and girls slip around to be together."
"And you expect me to do the same thing?"
"You have to, as long as we aren't man and wife. I'm not supposed to come to you. It isn't the custom."
Tin-Stars and Troublemakers Box Set (Four Complete Historical Western Romance Novels in One) Page 118