Apache Summer

by Heather Graham

  “Savage? You, a white woman, would call me savage? No one knows the meaning of brutality so well as your own kind. Let me tell you, Sun-Colored Woman, what the white man, the white soldier has done to us, to my people.” The moon rose high, shimmering down upon him with sudden clarity. Nalte, his bronze shoulders slick and heavily muscled, walked around her.

  “In 1862 your General James Carleton sent a dispatch unit through Apache Pass. Cochise and Mangas Coloradas lay in wait. There was a fierce battle, and Mangas Coloradas was seized from his horse. He was taken to Janos, but his followers told the doctors that he must be cured or their town would be destroyed. So he survived.

  “Mangas Coloradas survived so that he could come a year later, under a flag of truce, to parlay with the soldiers and miners for peace. He was seized.

  Your general ordered that he have Mangas Coloradas the next morning, alive or dead. So do you know what your civilized white people did to him?

  They heated their bayonets in the fire, and they burned his legs, and when he protested, they shot him for trying to escape. It was not enough. They cut off his head, and they boiled it in a large pot. Do you understand? They boiled his head. But now you would sit there, and you would tell me that I am savage?”

  She wasn’t sitting, she was kneeling, in exactly the position in which he had pressed her. She was trembling, shaking like a leaf blown in winter, and she was praying that Jamie would arrive and rescue her.

  But of course, she didn’t know if Jamie was alive or dead. He had faced Chavez in a knife fight, and she couldn’t know the outcome. And now she was facing an articulate Apache who seemed to have reason to want vengeance.

  “You speak English exceptionally well,” she said dryly. He did not appreciate her sense of humor. He wrenched her to her feet and pulled her against him. “You will find no mercy with me,” he assured her.

  “Do not beg.”

  “I—I never beg,” she said, but the words came out in a whisper. She wasn’t certain if they were defiant or merely pathetic. It didn’t matter. He pushed her forward, then tossed her over his shoulder again.

  “No!” she protested wildly. She hit his back, but he did not notice her frantic effort. She braced against him and screamed, loudly. desperately.

  Jamie. Dear God, where was he now?

  Perhaps it did not matter. Perhaps there was no help for either of them anymore.

  Chapter Eleven

  Nalte moved through the darkness so swiftly that Tess had little idea of how far they traveled. She felt as if they twisted and turned rdentlessly, but slowly she realized that they were moving downhill. She tried at first to reason with him, but he ignored her, and it was painful to t~ to talk when she was held so ‘tightly against him. She was exhausted, and the words she hzd said to Chavez were true at the very least. She wanted to be free from Nalte, but she did not feel the same loathing for the man that she had felt for Chavez. And now she knew Jamie was alive. Or at least he had been alive. lie had gone to battle Chavez, but now she had hope, if not ling else.

  Hope. Could he come for her against Nalte? Could he slip out in The darkness and come furtively against the Apache? S~ didn’t know what to think anymore. She hadn’t thought that Nalte would speak English, but he did so, very well.

  He halted suddenly, letting out the cry of a night bird, and was answered in kind. He started to walk again and they descended a final cliff to a clearing where tepees rose magically againft the night sky, and where camp fires burned with soft gl~s, where only the movement of shadows could be seen.

  Nalte set her down and let out the soft sound. of a bird cry once again.

  From the shadows a man emerged. He was dressed as Nalte was, in a breech clout He wore high buckskin boots and numerous tight beaded necklaces, and carried what appeared to be a U. S. Army revolver. He began to speak with Nalte very quickly, and Nalte replied. Then the man turned and disappeared into the shadows. The Apache camp was sleeping, Tess thought.

  “Come,” Nalte told her, catching her arm and leading her across the camp.

  She saw more shadows. The camp might sleep, but men were on guard.

  She started to shiver, realizing that now she had no defenses. She had enjoyed a certain safety with Jeremiah and David, so much so that she could even be sorry that Jeremiah had been killed so coldly. But now. She had come here as Nalte’s prize.. That had been yon Heusen’s plan. The darkness lay all around them, and Nalte was leading her toward the largest tepee. It glowed in moonlight, and she could see the designs and colors upon it, the scenes of warfare, the furs attached to the flaps. Smoke rose from the hole where the structure poles met at the top indicating a fire within the tepee.

  “Get in,” Nalte said, thrusting her inside.

  She nearly fell, but she regained her balance and stood quickly, ready to fight him whatever came. He let the flap fall over the entryway and crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. She moved backward, noting the amusement that flickered in his dark eyes. She stumbled upon something, looked around and saw that blankets and packs of clothing were neatly rolled against the sides of the tepee and that there were several cooking utensils by the fire that burned in the center of the tepee. Its smoke escaped through the high hole.

  There was a woman in the tepee already. A young, very pretty woman, who stared at Tess with wide eyes. Tess stared in return, coloring as dread filled her. Nalte had wanted a blond woman: He already had a wife. He intended to rape her here in front of his first wife.

  He took a step toward her. She tightened her fingers into fists at her side.

  There was no escape here. This was not a place like the haphazard Comanchero dwelling. If she could escape Nalte she would only be caught by his warriors.

  Jamie had been so close! Rescue had been within reach. But now she couldn’t even hope that he would come against the Indians. Nalte would kill him.

  Tess gazed from the young woman to the Indian.

  “You are a savage!” she shouted. Tossing her hair, she stared at him defiantly.

  “I don’t want you. I don’t want to be here! I was kidnapped for your entertainment! And now here sits your poor wife, and you think that you’re going to … that you’re going to … No!” she shouted, for the flicker of amusement had deepened in his eyes, and he was striding toward her.

  She lashed out wildly, her fists pummeling his chest. He seemed to barely notice her effort, and bent low to pick her up and throw her on a blanket roll. She opened her mouth to scream, but he did not come close to her.

  He stepped back, watching her.

  “This is not my wife. This is my sister. And because of her, you will be safe from me this night. With the light we begin the ceremony that makes her a woman.” He smiled at the woman, and there was deep affection in his gaze, but it faded when he looked at Tess again.

  “It is an important ceremony, a religious one.”

  He turned and found another blanket roll. He had dismissed her entirely, Tess thought. She stared from the war’ riot to the young woman, longing to bolt for the opening. Nalte was already stretching out comfortably on his blanket.

  The woman tried to smile at Tess. She patted the ground, indicating that Tess should sleep.

  Tess swallowed, keeping a wary eye on Nalte. She pulled out a blanket and carefully lay down on it. Stretching out, she pretended to close her eyes.

  But she kept watching Nalte. When he slept, she would try to escape. If she could return to the trail in the mountains, she could possibly find Jamie.

  Was he alone? she wondered. Or was Jon out there somewhere with him?

  She was exhausted, and tears threatened her eyes. No matter how hard she tried, or how she fought, she never seemed to escape the fate that yon Heusen had intended for her.

  Jeremiah and David were dead, and she could pray that Chavez was dead, yet it had done little for her. She was where von Heusen had intended she should be, and she was certain that men braver than she and far more knowledgeable of t
he rugged terrain could not escape the Apache.

  Nalte was finally sleeping. She rose very carefully and tiptoed across the dry earth flooring of the tepee to the slit.

  She glanced at Nalte again. His eyes were closed, his features immobile.

  She started to slip beneath the flap.

  A hand wound around her ankle, bringing her down hard upon the floor.

  In seconds the fierce warrior had crawled over her. His eyes were ebony in the night.

  “You have courage,” he told her.

  “But you are stupid!”

  “You speak of our savagery!” she charged him.

  “You deal with the despicable Comancheros, you buy rifles and women from them!”

  “My sister is my only family,” he told her in turn, “because the others were killed. Killed by white men. Beaten, skewered, broken and left to die. My mother died this Way, my sisters. Babies, little babies. I have not brought you here to kill you. Not unless you force me to.”

  “You are holding me against my will.”

  He touched a long strand of her hair. He seemed reflective for a moment.

  “You will come to understand me,” he told her.

  “You will learn our ways, and you will be happy here.”

  “I cannot be happy!” she told him desperately. “We are not savages!”

  She shook her head, moistening her lips.

  “No, no more so than we. But I am not what you wanted. I” — “You are more than what I wanted,” he interrupted, and he was smiling.

  “Now go back to sleep or I will forget that I keep a sacred vigil this night.”

  “Nalte, please” — “Go back. Now.”

  She felt the tension in his arms and saw the fierce glitter in his eyes and she knew that his warning was not without good reason. Hastily she retreated. She curled into her blanket, pulling it around her ears. She shivered. She didn’t hate the Indian, but he didn’t understand that. She was not repulsed by him, but she had to be free, for she was not part of his society. She wanted revenge. She wanted yon Heusen hurt as he had hurt her.

  And she wanted Jamie. She was in love with him, and that hurt more than anything else. If it weren’t for him, she could bear anything that happened.

  But he was out there, somewhere. And she could never forget him.

  Morning came, and the blanket was pulled away from Tess’s shoulders.

  She gasped and opened her eyes, expecting to discover Nalte, but it wasn’t him. Several women stared at her.

  They spoke to her, but she didn’t understand them.

  They pulled her to her feet. She protested, but was ignored. Nalte’s little sister smiled at her encouragingly. She had little choice, for the women set upon her arms and drew her along with them. They left the tepee to enter the family clearing. The sun was just beginning to shine down upon the camp.

  Men and women were busy, moving around. Some cleaned their weapons, others watched her with curiosity.

  The women moved around with buckets of water or with bowls of food.

  A soft word was said to her, and she was moved forward. No one was cruel to her, but she couldn’t have escaped the women who were determined to escort her.

  She heard the stream before she saw it, as they walked a trail that brought them through trees and dense shrubs.

  From the trail she could hear the tinkling melody of the water, reminding her that she was very thirsty, and that there was a certain personal necessity she had to take care of. She was glad to he with the women, even though she flushed when they tugged at her buckskins, indicating that she was to strip and bathe.

  Still, she felt better once the water was against her skin and once she had swallowed huge mouthfuls of it. She realized that the women were disappearing between a bank of trees, and she was certain the trees had to be the latrine. She followed them, and thought longingly once she was done of disappearing into the brush, but’ even as the thought came to her, she saw that two of her keepers had come for her. Again, they were not cruel, but the women with the ink-dark hair and the huge dark eyes placed firm hands upon her and took her to the stream.

  There they ignored her. It was Nalte’s sister who gained everyone’s attention. Once she, too, had bathed, she was dressed in a soft, pale buckskin dress with shades of yellow coloring on it. A yellow paint was smeared over her face, and her hair was lovingly combed out and let loose to fall beneath her shoulders. Necklaces were placed upon her, beautiful pieces of beads and silver cones, and one rawhide strand with a claw upon it. She smiled during it all, flushed and lovely.

  It was her ceremony day, Tess remembered. And then she realized that she had not been forgotten after all. A woman called for her from the bank of the stream. She had no choice but to crawl out and let them stare at her. They whispered over her nakedness and she flushed, backing away when they would have touched her. Her pale skin was very different from their own, she knew.

  But it was her hair that seemed to fascinate them most—both that upon her head and that upon her body.

  They didn’t tease her long, but gave her a new outfit to wear. It was a soft, pale buckskin much like Nalte’s sister’s dress, but with no yellow on it. It fell just to her knees. Her feet were still sore from her barefoot treks over the mountain trails, and she had hoped that someone would give her soft doeskin slippers to wear. But nothing was supplied for her feet, and when she tried to ask one of the women, the Apache shook her head. They were preparing to go back to the village, and Tess was to go with them. Tess wondered again about her chances of escaping, but she had heard that the Apache women could he every bit as fierce as their men. The women were excited about the young girl they had dressed so carefully for her rite, but their eyes were still upon her. She walked along, weary and desolate, trying to focus her thoughts on her hatred of von Heusen so that she wouldn’t be able to fear her own future, and to wonder desperately about Jamie Slater.

  Her eyes were lowered, her head was down when they came into the village.

  She stumbled and looked up to see where she was going.

  Looking across the compound she saw that four Indians were in curious costumes with huge headdresses, obviously preparing for the rites to come.

  But the Indians were staring across the compound at a stranger who had come among them. For a moment he looked very much like Nalte. Tess narrowed her eyes, watching the man, trying to figure out why he looked so familiar. He was dressed in buckskins from head to toe and he wore a cap adorned with eagle and owl feathers. His hair was black and straight as Nalte’s, but worn shorter. Even as she stared at him, he turned slowly, pointing her way.

  She gasped, stunned to see that the newcomer was Jon Red Feather. He smiled at her briefly, a sign of encouragement, she thought, then his expression quickly sobered again, and he continued to talk to Nalte.

  The tall Apache was dressed for the ceremony, too. He wore a fringed buckskin shirt, buckskin pants, high, laced boots and eagle feathers in his hair. He was also adorned with a turquoise amulet around his neclq and silver studs and beads upon his bonnet and shirt. He was listening to Jori Red Feather—and watching Tess gravely as he did.

  Nalte nodded, and Jon let out a whistle.

  Then Jamie rode into the clearing. He was in calico shirt, denim pants, knee-high boots and a Western hat. He didn’t glance at Tess, but lifted a hand to Nalte. When he reached the chief, he slipped from the horse instantly and approached the man, speaking quickly.

  She felt as if her heart slammed hard again. ~t her chest. He was a fool! she thought. He didn’t know Nalte, he didn’t know how the Apache chief hated the white man, nor did he seem to realize the things that had been done to the Apache by the cavalry. Fool! She wanted to scream to him, but she couldn’t breathe, she could only pray that Nalte wouldn’t slay him right on the spot.

  Nalte shook his head violently.

  Forty warriors suddenly drew their weapons, facing Jamie.

  His Colts were around his waist, but
he didn’t make a move to touch them. He spoke calmly once again, and Nalte called out something sharply. Guns and war clubs were lowered.

  Frightened still, Tess cried out, shaking off the hands of the women around her and racing toward Jamie. She pitched herself against him, but he caught her shoulders hard and thrust her away.

  Thrust her away—straight into Nalte’s arms. Her eyes widened with alarm and fury.

  “What in God’s name are you doing?” she gasped. She couldn’t move.

  “Nalte’s dark fingers were a vise upon her.

  Nor did Jamie seem to want her. His eyes flashed upon her with dark fury.

  “Stop it, Tess.”

  “But” — “Stop it! Shut up!”

  “Damn you, Jamie” — He switched into the Apache language, addressing Nalte.

  At the last, he spoke English once again.

  “Nalte, may Jon Red Feather take the woman away so that we may speak without interruption?”

  “Speak without interruption!” Tess flared. But Nalte was nodding.

  “Tess, come!” Jori called to her.

  Apparently she didn’t move quickly enough. Jamie reached for her arm and thrust her toward Jon. He pulled her away even as she protested.

  “Jon” — “Tess, he’s trying to negotiate for your return.”

  “They were going to shoot him! I had to do something.” She tugged free of Jon and turned back to watch Jamie, still talking with Nalte.

  “What are they doing now?”

  “Talking about prices.”

  “For what?”

  “For you, of course,” he told her with a crooked smile. “How can Jamie pay Nalte?”

  “Well, he can’t pay him … not very much, that’s why he’s arguing that you aren’t worth the price.”

  “I’m not worth the price!”

  “Tess” — Tears touched her eyes.

  “He shouldn’t he here to begin with! He must not understand Nalte”

  “Nalte would have killed most men by now. He is seeing Jamie because he knows about him, he knows that Jamie has always been fair. Tess, keep your mouth shut, all right?” She wanted to keep her mouth shut, but she was still in terror that the Apache would betray Jamie, as they had been 227 betrayed so many times themselves. She was deliriously glad to see him and Jon, and she wanted to know about Chavez, but she was afraid to ask. Her temper was rising because she was so desperately scared of what was to come. Before she could say more, Nalte came striding by with Jamie and his guard behind him.