The Blackbird

by Kristy McCaffrey

  Cale called to her like the magic in a story, giving hope in the words that weren't said. The taste of him lingered on her lips, and her body hummed with something other than panic.

  “I have something that might help with the pain in your leg,” he said. She watched him retrieve two fist-sized stones from the fire by pushing them from the flames with a stick, then he placed them in an empty grain sack.

  He came to her and crouched, and she wondered if he would kiss her again.

  “I’m gonna put this around your knee,” he said. “Then you should try to get some sleep. The heat will help relax the muscles.”

  She gave a brief nod when he paused for her permission. Lifting her skirt once again, he wrapped the sack and the hot stones around her damaged leg. She settled onto her pallet as he adjusted the bundle, then pulled the skirt back in place and settled a blanket atop her.

  He retrieved a plain buckskin pouch from his belongings, opened it and coated a finger with the yellow substance inside.

  “Open your mouth,” he instructed.

  “What is that?”

  “Ha-dintin. It’s tule pollen, and very sacred to the Apache. It’s also thought to aid in healing.”

  She let him slide his finger along her tongue to deposit the substance. The dense powder left a slightly sweet taste.

  He leaned down and kissed her forehead. She grabbed his hand to keep him near. Impulsively, she lifted her head to bring her lips to his.

  Despite the terror that pressed in on her, she wanted very much to show Cale that she welcomed his touch.

  “I should’ve heated stones for you sooner,” he murmured against her mouth.

  “Gracias,” she whispered.

  “Sleep well, Tess. Let me guard the shadows for once.”

  He slept near to her, and she was glad for his company.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cale awoke before dawn and checked the horses and Moses, then he restarted the fire and put coffee to boil. He tried to remain quiet so as to not awaken Tess, who slept peacefully with the blanket tucked around her. As the sky lightened and he could see her more clearly, he decided he was glad they were alone again.

  If only they could skip searching for Hank and head to the mountains of Colorado, maybe spend the fall months in a cabin far from everyone. A simple life with Tess—the appeal of it—caught him unexpectedly.

  A bit of stew remained. While he waited for it to heat, he retrieved his ha-dintin and blew a pinch to the rising sun.

  Quietly, he spoke the prayer. “Gun-ju-le, chigo-na-ay, si-chi-zi, gun-ju-le, inzayu, ijanale.”

  He contemplated the start of a new day, then hung the bag around his neck and fitted it beneath his shirt. He buttoned the vest.

  “What does that mean?” Tess asked.

  He turned to find her newly awakened.

  “Be good, O Sun, be good.”

  “Do you do that every morning?”

  He nodded. He poured coffee and brought a cup to her, settling beside her as she pushed to a sitting position.

  “Gracias.” She took a sip.

  “Sleep well?”

  “Sí. I’m amazed to say I did.”

  “It must’ve been my magic kisses.”

  A smile tugged at her mouth. He liked her this way—soft, still half-asleep, without the fearful shadows that normally stared back from the depths of her eyes.

  “Maybe there are special kisses in this world,” she conceded.

  “You’re very pretty in the light of a new day,” he murmured.

  “Must be the ha-dintin. Mi abuela would say each morning—gracias, Papito Dios, por el milagro de un otro dia de la vida.”

  “Thank you, dearest God, for the miracle of another day of life,” Cale translated.

  “Muy bien.”

  “I’m trying to improve my Spanish.”

  “It’s getting better.”

  Her husky voice wrapped around him, filling him with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.

  He kissed her, and when she didn’t pull back, he brought a hand behind her head and deepened the contact. While it would’ve been nice to lay her back onto the ground and explore her slowly and deliberately, he wasn’t fool enough to think she’d be all right with it.

  Her response wasn’t as timid as the previous night, and it gave him hope. He kissed her cheeks and drank in her mouth like a stream in a lush oasis. He let his fingers trail her hair and caress her neck.

  She froze.

  “Tess, it’s all right.” He brought his hand back to her face and ran a thumb gently across her lips. “We should eat that stew, and you should drink your coffee before it gets cold.”

  He looked into her eyes and saw the shadows gathering steam.

  “If you keep kissing me this much, I’ll be too distracted to break camp,” he teased.

  She relaxed a tiny fraction against him.

  After breakfast, they packed up the animals, then guided the horses onto a path to enter the mountains.

  “Cale?”

  He looked at her from atop Bo.

  “Since you’re a chamán of sorts, what do you feel will be the outcome of all of this?”

  “You mean Hank, or us?”

  “Both.”

  He swung his gaze to the mountains they were about to enter. “I think curiosity will get the cat, meaning going after Hank won’t necessarily bring peace.” He guided Bo closer to Gideon. “As for us, I hope you’ll give it a chance.” He removed his hat and leaned over for a quick kiss. He was rewarded with a tiny little smile that he suspected she never showered on any man. The response pleased him immensely.

  “How patient are you?” she asked.

  “I’m willing to try, Tess. I can offer you that.”

  “Then I’ll kiss you again.”

  He grinned and accepted her overture, lingering over her mouth until Bo shifted, forcing them to break contact.

  “We best get moving,” he said.

  They entered the Dragoons, following a dusty trail that passed by the abandoned ruins of the Dragoon Springs Station. Cale suspected the Apache depredations had made it too difficult to maintain the stage stop. Once they crossed the first rise in the terrain, the path dropped down into a canyon thick with vegetation and oak trees. Granite domes and cliffs rose above them.

  He hadn’t been in these hills since his army days. Bittersweet memories lingered of grueling pursuits coupled with the weight of constant fear. He wondered how many Apache remained in the area. But he knew there’d be others as well—military scouts, miners, and even Mormon settlers pushing south. His gut wasn’t clenched, a sign he’d often had of impending trouble in the past, but he kept an eye out for signs of recent passage. An ashen fire pit along their course and horse prints pointed to riders ahead.

  Cale didn’t mention this to Tess but, by mid-afternoon, rode forward to check it out, leaving her to rest under the shade of a cypress tree.

  He’d traveled a quarter mile when his hunch proved correct.

  In the distance were two men—one white, one Apache—watering their horses at a creek. And the gringo was none other than Hank’s old comrade, Walt Lange.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cale pulled the Winchester from its boot and settled it across his thighs. He had no intention of using the firearm, especially at close range, but he thought the message would be enough. He guided Bo toward the men.

  When Walt noticed him, he pulled a pistol from his hip holster.

  “Easy now, Walt,” Cale said.

  When Cale halted Bo before the two men, Walt’s eyes slowly widened.

  “Cale Walker? Well I’ll be goddamned. What’re you doin’ out here?”

  “I could say the same to you.”

  Walt tucked his gun back into its sheath. He hadn’t changed much. Tall and lanky, his insincere smile showcased a still-missing front tooth. With his hat off, his tangled, grizzled brown hair spilled down next to a thick gray beard and mustache. “How long has it been?”<
br />
  “Goin’ on about four years.”

  Walt glanced at the Apache beside him. “This here is One Ear.”

  The Indian nodded in Cale’s direction. His straight black hair was cut short, as many Apache did, no doubt in mourning for a family member.

  “He’s only got one ear,” Walt added.

  One Ear’s dark eyes rested on Cale. “I have heard of you. You were with the Nednai. You are called Change of Heart.”

  “That’s right,” Cale replied. “You know them?”

  The Apache nodded but said nothing further.

  “Why don’t you come sit a spell, and we can catch up?” Walt asked.

  “I’d be obliged.” Cale placed the rifle into the scabbard and dismounted, then settled Bo near a grassy patch.

  Walt shook Cale’s hand. One Ear faded back and tended to the other horses.

  Cale cut straight to the heart of the matter. “Where’s Hank?”

  Walt settled onto an embankment and grabbed a piece of jerky. He offered a piece to Cale, but Cale refused. He also remained standing, his Colts holstered at his hips.

  “I don’t know,” Walt replied. “I haven’t seen him in a while, but he sent me a letter recently and invited me here to help him look for gold.” He ripped a chunk of the jerky with his teeth and began chewing on it. “It’s right serendipitous finding you. Maybe you can help me locate him. Do you know his whereabouts?”

  “No.”

  “Did you really live with the Apache?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Hell, what was that like? Did they torture you? Weren’t you scared out of your mind?”

  “You’re with an Apache right now. What do you think?”

  “One Ear’s a varmint, like most of ’em.”

  “I doubt he appreciates your opinion.”

  Walt laughed. “Maybe. He’s helping me track. I saved his wife when some jackass miners got their hands on her. He owes me.”

  “Didn’t know you were so heroic, especially when it came to Indian women.”

  “Men can change.”

  Maybe.

  Cale considered that Lange might have a better handle on where Hank might be and debated whether he should team up with the man. He wondered how Tess would feel about seeing him.

  He didn’t have to wonder for long.

  “Woman come,” One Ear said.

  Cale looked over his shoulder as Tess approached on Gideon, Moses on a lead trailing behind. Her face was blank. Cale knew she’d recognized Walt. He stood to face her, but not before he noticed Walt rested a hand on the pistol at his side . Cale had a clear line of sight on both Walt and One Ear, and if Lange so much as twitched over that gun he’d nail him to the ground.

  “She with you?” Walt asked.

  “Yep,” Cale answered.

  “She looks mighty familiar.”

  Cale waited as Tess brought Gideon closer and halted the animal.

  Walt let out a snort of disbelief. “Tess?”

  She stared at him.

  “I really thought you was dead.” Clearly stupefied, Walt stepped closer to her.

  “Why would you think that?” Tess’s voice was flat and devoid of emotion.

  Walt stopped in his tracks, and went silent.

  Tess didn’t take her eyes from him. “Is it because you were there when Saul attacked me?”

  “I wasn’t there,” Walt cut in quickly.

  “You were outside the building, weren’t you?” She pierced him with a lethal gaze. “And you never did anything to stop him.”

  Walt glanced around him as if searching for an escape route.

  Cale didn’t rein in his own murderous glare. “Is that true, Walt?”

  “Look, it’s done. Saul’s dead. We can put this all behind us.”

  Astonishment crossed Tess’s face.

  “When did Saul die?” Cale asked.

  Walt fidgeted, clearly nervous. “Back when he attacked Tess.”

  That didn’t make sense. Fitz had mentioned seeing Saul since then. “Did you kill him?”

  Walt shook his head. “I’m not exactly sure what happened. I didn’t wait around to find out. But you can rest easy, Tess. Saul got his just rewards.”

  Cale wasn’t so sure about that. He decided they needed to spend a bit more time with Walt Lange.

  * * * *

  Tess sat by the creek with Cale beside her, across from Walter Lange. It had been a shock to ride up and find the man conversing with Cale. She’d made every effort to mask her emotions. Walt Lange had never attacked her, had never done anything bad to her except make obnoxiously lewd comments from time to time, but he was there that night when Saul assaulted her , and had done nothing to stop it.

  And now he said that Saul Miller was dead.

  The knowledge should’ve left her relieved, but instead her emotions had gone numb.

  “I still can’t believe you’re alive,” Walt said.

  “I was never close to dying,” she said, but that wasn’t altogether true. There was a time, when Hank first brought her to Tom and Mary’s, when she lay in bed—so sick and beaten that she couldn’t even rise to attend to personal matters—that she’d withdrawn and sought a passage to be with her madre and abuela. But they had shooed her back to the world of the living.

  “Where’s Hank?” she asked.

  “I dunno. I was just telling Cale that I’m lookin’ for him, too.”

  She noticed the Apache man nearby and wondered if she and Cale were safe.

  “If you want,” Walt continued, “you both can ride along, and we can look for Hank together.”

  If Walt thought she was dead, did Hank also ? Was that why he’d never returned?

  Tess glanced at Cale, a silent question in her eyes. Should they dare join forces with Lange?

  Cale gave her a slight nod. She knew what he thought—that they’d probably have more luck with him. There was no reason to waste an opportunity. And Lange probably wouldn’t hurt them. Would he?

  “Alright,” Cale said. “We’ll combine our efforts.”

  “Good. We’ll finish watering the horses and head out.” Walt stood and moved toward the Indian and the animals.

  “Do you think this is a good idea?” she quietly asked Cale.

  “Probably not, but he just might lead us to Hank. If you change your mind, we can cut loose at any time.”

  “I don’t trust him. But you’re right, it might help. Do you think having that Apache along will aid us if we encounter any more Indians?”

  “Hard to say, but you ride behind me at all times.”

  Tess agreed with a nod.

  Chapter Sixteen

  That night they made camp, and Cale was glad that Tess stayed close. The lack of privacy meant no kissing, and, for a moment, he considered throwing the two men back to the wilderness.

  Walt sat by the crackling campfire, opposite them. He gestured at Tess. “What’s wrong with your leg?”

  “It’s an old wound,” Tess replied, spooning a helping of boiled oats into her mouth. That was all they had for supper.

  “You didn’t have it when you were with Hank. Did you have a run-in with an Apache?” Walt shot a sly glance to One Ear, who lifted his eyes to watch her.

  “Gringos can be just as vicious as Apache,” she replied.

  One Ear nodded and resumed eating his meal.

  “You really missed out, Cale, after you left us,” Walt continued. “Hank brought little Tess along on our hunts. Sure made you grow up, didn’t it?”

  “Sí,” she answered, but Cale didn’t miss the reluctance in her voice.

  “Saul couldn’t have hurt you that bad. You’re still alive, right?” He laughed, and the gap in his teeth became prominent.

  Tess went still, and the urge to punch Walt slammed into Cale.

  “I’ve gotta be honest,” Cale said to Walt, his jaw clenched. “I’m kinda surprised you’re alive.”

  One Ear let out an amused snort.

  “Yeah, we
ll, I guess I’ve got a guardian angel.”

  “Or a demonio,” Tess murmured, pushing her food around with a spoon.

  One Ear watched her with a glint in his eyes that Cale didn’t like. Walt said the man had a wife, but Apache often took more than one female. Cale had no intention of letting him lay claim on Tess.

  “Tell me what you’ve been up to, Walt.” Cale kept his voice light, but Lange sobered. He knew a threat when he saw one.

  “So, after you tucked your tail and ran from our job in Mexico, Hank got saddled with Tess and we hopscotched our way around the territories. Arizona and New Mexico, and a bit in Texas.”

  Cale noticed Walt skirted around the details of the Sierra Madre job. It wasn’t wise to recount butchering Apache in front of another Apache.

  Shame reared its ugly head. While Cale had no doubt those Apache men they managed to corner were guilty of unspeakable depredations, he felt no victory in the killings. And while he hadn’t struck down a woman or child, he hadn’t stopped Hank, Walt, and Saul from doing so. He should have. He wasn’t one to dwell on the inequities of this life, but that was a black mark he knew he’d have to answer for in the next.

  Cale placed another log on the fire. “What happened the night Saul attacked Tess?”

  The tension emanating from Tess was palpable.

  Walt scratched his whiskers. “Well, now, that was a night best left forgotten.”

  “I need you to tell me what happened,” Cale pressed.

  Walt let out a huff. “Alright, but it doesn’t go beyond this fire, you hear me?”

  Cale glanced at One Ear.

  “He don’t speak good English,” Walt said.

  Cale wasn’t so certain of that, but there was no getting rid of the Apache now.

  “You were all going to kill Jim Bennett,” Cale began.

  Recognition registered on Walt’s face. “I s’pose Tess has filled you in. Jim was gonna betray us. That ain’t right.”

  “He must’ve had his reasons.”

  “Mebbe.”

  “Whose idea was it to kill him?”

  “You tryin’ to lay blame? Well, then it was mostly Saul. ’Course I’d say that.”

  “Of course,” Cale agreed.