Apache Summer

by Heather Graham

  “A ranch is a hard life. And so is a newspaper,” Tess said softly.

  She looked at him quickly.

  “A newspaper” — “I know what a newspaper is. I lived in a town for many years when I was a child. I was captured with a war party and taken in by a minister’s wife. I learned a lot about your society. A newspaper is a powerful weapon.”

  “It isn’t a weapon at all,” Tess protested. “More powerful than a gun. Be careful with it,” Nalte warned her. Then he asked her if she was Jamie’s wife. She flushed as she told him that she was not.

  “But you are his woman,” Nalte told her.

  “It—it isn’t the same thing,” she said.

  The Indian was lowering his head, smiling, and she remembered belatedly that he had chosen to let her go because of Jamie.

  “When an Apache marries, he goes to his wife’s family. If she lives in a distant territory, then the man leaves and joins her family. Within it he may rise to be the leader, then he may become the leader of many families, and ultimately a great chief. But always, when it is possible, he joins his wife’s family. He works for his wife’s parents and elders, and he is known by them as ‘he who carries burdens for me.”

  He speaks for her, and the man and the woman exchange gifts. A separate dwelling is made for the couple. She is his wife.

  “But I tell you, Sun-Colored Woman, that it is the same among the Apache and the whites. When a man loves a woman, when he claims her for his own, when he is willing to give his life and his pride and his honor for her, that is when she is truly his wife, in his eyes and in the eyes of the 249 great spirits, be they our gods or the one great God of the whites.” He touched her cheek almost tenderly, then left her. She thought about his words for a long time to come, and she wondered if Jamie did love her. Did he love her enough to stay with her, or would he tire of her, as he had tired of Eliza?

  She had made love with him always of her own volition. She had wanted him as she had never known want before.

  But sometimes she wished that she had never given in to the temptation, for she felt that she had tasted forbidden fruit.

  She had found it very sweet, but she would perish when she could taste it no longer. ~ Nights were theirs. She never spoke, but came to him with her skin warmed by the fire, her body bathed by the stream, her hair soft and fragrant from the sun. She lay down be- side him, and she loved him, and she tried not to think of the future.

  On the fourth night of Little Flower’s puberty rite, when the maiden had become a woman, Jamie was silent, holding her gently, staying motionless.

  Tess knew that he didn’t sleep, and she shifted against him, asking him what was wrong.

  “We’re free to go home tomorrow,” she whispered to him.

  “Yes, or the next day,” be said absently.

  “Nalte has been involved with his sister and us. He may be busy with tribal business tomorrow.”

  “what difference will a day make?”

  He shook his head, still staring toward the top of the tepee and the poles that seemed to reach toward the stars.

  “A day will not make a difference. Nothing will a make a difference.

  That’s the point. When we go home, Tess, von Heusen is still going to be there. And we still haven’t any proof of what he is doing.”

  “But—but Jeremiah and David kidnapped me—and they left you for dead!” Tess protested.

  “Jeremiah and David are dead. They can’t be brought to trial, and they can’t be forced to testify against von Heusen.

  We’re right back where we started. And I know you. You’ll head right back to that newspaper office of yours.”

  “Jamie, I have to!”

  “You don’t have to!” he told her savagely. “Jamie” — “We’re going back, Tess, and we’re going to fight yon Heusen. But we have to do it by my rules.”

  “I don’t” — “That’s right—you don’t. You don’t make a move without someone by your side, do you understand me? Things are going to get worse. Von Heusen may be thinking right now that you and I are gone. He may even have had a few moments of divine pleasure, thinking that he’d won at last. But Tess, by now he must have discovered that he can’t get his hands on that property, even if we’re both believed to be dead and gone. He’s going to be furious when he finds it’s willed to my family—and he’s going to be ready for a full- scale war. We’ve got to pray that we’re going to be ready for it.”

  “Can we be?” Tess whispered.

  “Yes, we can,” he said. But then he swung around on her, staring at her fiercely, clutching her chin with a grip so tight that it was painful.

  “But Tess, so help me God, you’ll do it my way.”

  “Jamie” — “You’ll do it my way?”

  “Fine! All right!” she snapped.

  He dropped her jaw. Tears were stinging her eyes, and she quickly rolled away from him, furious that no matter how close it seemed they became, he still played the dictator. And left her frightened that she was falling more and more deeply in love with a man who would wage war for her, who would risk his life for her. And yet ride away in the end, when it mattered the most.

  He did not reach for her, and she did not come back to touch him that night.

  Her back was mid, and she drew the blanket more fully around her.

  She shivered in the night. But the distance remained between them.

  They spent one more day with the Apache, watching the sacred ritual when a young boy departed with his first hunting party. The boy’s first four raids would be accompanied by ritual. This day he was instructed by the war shaman and accepted by the adult members of the party. He was given a drinking tube and a scratcher with lightning designs, and he was bestowed with a war cap.

  Jamie spoke to her while they stood watching. He pointed to the war cap and told her, “It will not yet contain the spiritual power that belongs to the men. He must complete his passage before the spirits will enter into his cap.” The men and women of the village were gathering around the boy to throw pollen upon him as be departed with the warriors.

  “It is a blessing,” Jamie told her.

  “And we are standing here, watching this, and these men and that boy will go off and raid some white settlement and perhaps kill our own kind,” Tess murmured. Jamie glared at her.

  “I’ll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself. We’re lucky to be leaving here alive. And, Miss. Stuart, for your information, this party is moving against the Comancheres. I don’t believe you can feel too much sympathy for that particular group.”

  She could not, but she didn’t have a chance to tell him so. He turned her around and propelled her toward the tepee they were sharing.

  “Go in, be quiet. I’m going to ask Nalte if we might leave tomorrow.”

  She didn’t hear, that afternoon, whether Nalte gave his permission.

  She waited endlessly for Jamie to return, but he did not. When it was dark one of the Apache women came to help her rekindle the fire and to give her a plate of beef and yams and roe seal cakes. She ate halfheartedly and waited, but Jamie still didn’t return. Finally her impatience brought her to the opening in the tent, and she looked out to see Jamie and Nalte and the victorious raiding party sitting around the central fire, laughing, talking, enjoying some newly arrived bottles of whiskey, and apparently enjoying one another as if they were long lost friends. In a fury she went to the fire and called Jamie’s name sharply. Every man there paused and stared at her, none of them more surprised or annoyed than Jamie. Nalte shot him a quick glance and said something in Apache. Jamie was quickly on his feet. He replied casually to the chief, but two rugged strides brought him to Tess.

  Before she could move or react he had butted her belly with his shoulder and lifted her precariously. Her head dangled dangerously down his back. She screamed out her protest, but Jamie ignored her and the Apache laughed, enjoying the show.

  Within seconds they were back in the tepee. She landed hard on one o
f the blankets, desperately inhaling as he stared at her furiously. She might have thought at first that he was drunk, but the sharp fire in his eyes denied such a possibility. She accused him anyway before he could yell at her.

  “You’re totally inebriated!”

  “Inebriated—you mean drunk, don’t you? I wish I were. Drunk enough to give you what you need! And what you need is a good switch taken to your hide.”

  “Oh!” She shimmied up to her knees.

  “Don’t you dare speak to me like that, Jamie Slater” — “I don’t think I’m just going to speak!” he warned her, his lashes falling over his eyes so that they were narrow and dangerous.

  “I think I’m going to act” — She was on her feet instantly, running for the flap in the tent with a speed and agility as fleet as a doe’s. But at the flap she paused, realizing that she would be running into a group of raucous Apaches.

  She spun around, certain Jamie was almost upon her. But he was standing back, watching her with supreme arrogance and amusement. He had known she wouldn’t run out of the tent.

  She decided to take her chances with the Apache. She didn’t make it.

  Jamie had been still, but he came to motion in a flash. Just as she reached for the rawhide flap, his arms swept around her calves, and she came crashing down to the hard ground. She coughed and gagged and struggled against his weight to turn around and face him. He straddled her. Her sir~ple doeskin dress was wound high around her hips, and she was naked beneath it. Jamie didn’t seem to notice. He sat calmly upon her, crossing his arms over his chest, aware that she wouldn’t be going anywhere at all.

  He stared down at her.

  “Undisciplined—brat!”

  “Brat! I’m twenty-four years old” — “An old maid! Maybe that’s half the problem.”

  She gasped, stunned by the remark, and started to struggle furiously beneath him. Her fingers wound into fists but he was ready, leaning forward to pin her wrists to the sides of her head.

  “I told you—it’s done my way. You may be Miss. Stuart, and you may be the publisher of the Wiltshire Sun, and you may own one of the finest ranches this side o the Mississippi, but you’re with me now, and I warned you, it’s going to be done my way! Especially among the Apache!

  You don’t make a fool of a man in front of them!”

  ” But I just wanted to know what was going on!”

  “I really should take a switch to you—but at some later date.” The fury suddenly faded from his voice. He released her wrists, his hands massaging both tenderly and tempestuously through the splay of her hair.

  “Tess, Tess, what are we doing? We’re going back to Wiltshire, and all hell will break loose when we get there. Let’s not fight each other now.” ‘ She stared at his striking features, at the handsome and rugged angles and planes of his face, at the passion in his silver eyes. She trembled suddenly and wound her arms around him.

  “Hold me!” she whispered.

  And he did.

  They shed their clothing, and she thought that he made love to her more tenderly, more carefully, that night than he ever had before.

  When the sun rose their naked bodies were entwined together in the soft shadows. She didn’t want to leave, she thought. She could live among the Apache with Jamie forever.

  But of course she couldn’t. This was not her world, and she had vowed that she would fight von Heusen. Neither she nor Jamie could walk away now.

  Jamie leaned over and kissed her lips, and she looked into his eyes.

  “It’s time,” he told her.

  He rose and dressed quickly, and she followed his example.

  They did not leave with the dawn, for Nalte wanted another conference with Jamie. His sister, Little Flower, came to Tess to say goodbye. Tess had learned very little of the language, but she had been grateful for Little Flower’s shy kindness. It seemed that Nalte was bestowing gifts on Tess— she was given a new outfit in which to ride, in pale buckskin, with fine tin cone pendants and beautiful beadwork. There was a long overdress that fell nearly to her knees, and beneath it, soft trousers so that she might ride easily. She was given boots at last, fine boots with rawhide bottoms and soft leggings to cover her calves. She thanked Little Flower as best as she could for the gifts, then kissed the young woman on the cheek.

  Nalte came to her then. Little Flower fled, and Nalte watched Tess for several moments before speaking.

  “You 255 will take the dress, too. Slater has told me that it will always be special to him.”

  She flushed.

  “Thank you. Thank you for the gifts. I’ve nothing to give you in return.”

  He shrugged.

  “I have gotten what I wanted from Slater. And I give you the gifts in his behalf. In our courting ritual, we exchange gifts, as I have told you.” She smiled and lowered her head, wondering what Jamie had given him.

  “Most of all, Nalte, I thank you for my freedom.”

  He grunted and looked at her still.

  “I understand that you are a warrior yoursell~’ ” A warrior?” she said, startled.

  “You take on men’s battles.”

  “I didn’t really intend to. I just—I had to fight back.” She paused.

  “This man had my uncle murdered. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I understand. I will pray that the sph’its will be with you.”

  He left her then.

  Jamie returned soon after.

  “They are ready to ride,” he told her.

  “Let’s go.”

  She nodded and hurried after him. There was a small roan mare set aside for her use, and she silently accepted Jamie’s help to mount the saddle less creature.

  She was startled to see Jamie mounting a large paint gelding. She stared at him and said softly, “Jamie, your own horse” — “He’s Nalte’s now,” Jamie said curtly. “Your horse! But you loved that horse. Why on earth would you want to” She broke off. He hadn’t wanted to give Nalte the horse. The horse had been the negotiation.

  “I’m sorry, Jamie.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said, and, turning his back, he rode ahead to talk to the half-naked warrior in a breech256 clout at the head of the party of a dozen or so, their escort through Comanchero territory. The Indian turned and she gasped, startled to see that it was Nalte.

  She couldn’? t ponder the chief’s participation in their ride then, for cries suddenly filled the air and they were leaving the village behind at a quick pace. Jouncing on her pony, Tess turned back.

  Little Flower was waving to her. Tess smiled warmly and waved in turn.

  They she turned again and hugged her knees to her pony. She had thought that she knew how to ride hard, but she had never ridden with the Apache before.

  She realized she was learning about a hard ride all over again, from the very beginning.

  By the time they stopped for the night, she could barely dismount, and when she did she nearly fell.

  Jamie was there to catch her. She widened her eyes and stared at him and she wanted to straighten and show him that she could be strong. But her knees were buckling and she merely managed to whisper, “Oh, Jamie …”

  He caught her before she fell. The Apache warriors were preparing a fire, and he carried her to it. One warrior stretched out a blanket for her, and a roll was stuffed beneath her head.

  She never ate a meal that night for she fell asleep instantly.

  Somewhere in the middle of the night she felt a new warmth. She opened her eyes and realized that Jamie had stretched next to her, and she was curled up in the shelter of his arms.

  She stared up at the stars and was suddenly very afraid. She had wanted to go home, and they were going home. But Jamie was right, it would be open war now. She didn’t want to die.

  She was just learning how to live.

  She closed her eyes and curled her fingers around the strong male hand that curved beneath her breast.

  “Please God, please God, please God,” she whisp
ered. The rest of her prayer formed no words, but she knew it in her heart.

  She wanted to survive. and more.

  She wanted to survive with Jamie. The life that was now so precious to her would be meaningless without him.

  She dosed her eyes again, and to her amazement, she slept once more.

  The Apache stayed with them all the next day and the next night.

  Jamie seemed c6ncerned for them, warning Nalte that they were moving into Comanche territory. But Nalte knew Running River, and he didn’t seem concerned.

  Tess tried to talk to Nalte, reminding him that many whites had believed yon Heusen when he said that it had been Indians who caused all the trouble. Few of the new settlers knew there was a difference between Comanche and Apache.

  Nalte, however, was resolute. He and the Apache rode with them to the outskirts of the town of Wiltshire. Then he lifted his spear high in the air and a shrill, blood-chilling cry escaped him. The Apache formed behind him.

  “Goodbye, Slater, Sun-Colored Woman.”

  “Thank you. No matter what comes, Nalte, I will always be your friend,” Jamie told him.

  “I believe you.” The chief moved forward, and he and Jamie clasped hands.

  Then Nalte swung his newly acquired mount around and his men raced off behind him. Jamie watched them disappear in a cloud of Texas dust, then he looked at Tess.

  “This is it. We’re almost home.”

  “Perhaps we should go into town”

  “No. We’ll head to the ranch.”

  “But I need to put this in the paper” — He swore, roughly, violently.

  “Tomorrow, Tess! We’re going home. I tried to make a few arrangements for help.

  You can’t go into town alone, and I have to get back to the ranch!

  Got it?”

  “Got it!” she shouted back.

  They weren’t far. She swung her Apache mare around and nudged her to a fleeting gallop. She raced for a good ten minutes before she pulled up suddenly, a feeling of utter joy encompassing her heart as the ranch came into view. It was still standing. No one had burned it to the ground.