Chase had objected at first. He didn’t want anyone pitying him, or seeing him when he felt so vulnerable, so damned helpless. But his mother had refused to leave his side and after a while, he admitted it was pleasant to lie there with the sun on his face and his head resting in her lap. As if he were a small child, she stroked his hair, murmuring low, soothing words of comfort..
For all that her hands were worn and calloused from years of hard work on the ranch, her touch was light and gentle.
“Tell me,” Chase said, his hands clenched beneath the blanket that covered him. “Tell me how you met Ryder.”
“He was scouting for the army,” Jenny said, smiling with the memory. “Some major had blackmailed him into it. I don’t remember why now. Kayitah attacked the patrol at Rock Springs. Most of the soldiers were killed, but Ryder and a few others were taken captive. Ryder was wounded. He’s half Cheyenne, but the Apache had adopted him into the tribe years earlier when he saved the life of one of their young men.
“Anyway, when they got back to the rancheria, some of the warriors wanted to kill him. They said he was a traitor for scouting for the army, but one old woman spoke in his behalf, and then the medicine man stepped forward and declared that it wasn’t right for one Apache to kill another. Only Usen had that right, he said, so it was decided that they would keep Ryder bound to a tree for five days. If he was still alive when the five days were over, then they would know it was Usen’s will that he should live.”
Jenny shook her head. “He was so brave,” she said, her voice catching as she glanced up at Ryder’s back. “I knew if he lived, he wouldn’t remain a prisoner for very long.”
“So you helped him,” Chase guessed, wishing he could see her face.
“She blackmailed me, is what she did,” Ryder said. Glancing over his shoulder, he grinned at Jenny. “Seems like everybody was blackmailing me for one thing or another back then.”
“She blackmailed you?” Chase asked. “How?”
“She refused to give me anything to drink until I promised to take her away with me,” Ryder said, chuckling with the memory.
Chase grinned. “Is that right?”
Jenny nodded, then, realizing Chase could see her, she said, “It’s true.”
“Would you have let him go thirsty?” Chase asked.
“No,” Jenny said.
“Now she tells me,” Ryder muttered with mock despair. “Why don’t you tell him how Alope kept me as her slave? He ought to get a kick out of that.”
“Alope did that?” Chase asked, the throbbing pain in his side momentarily forgotten.
“Yes. She made him fetch and carry, and when he didn’t obey quick enough, she took him outside and whipped him in front of everyone. One day she pretended he was a horse and made him spend the day on his hands and knees.”
Jenny looked at Ryder. He was facing forward, but she could tell by the rigid set of his shoulders that he was reliving the humiliation he had suffered at Alope’s hands. She had been the one to wash the blood from Ryder’s back when Alope finished whipping him. She had been the one to sneak him food when Alope got angry and refused to feed him. On days when Alope had nothing for Ryder to do, she had left him tethered to a tree from dawn ’til dark, leaving him at the mercy of the sun and the flies. The day Alope had made Ryder pretend to be a horse had been one of the worst. She had put a rope around his neck and led him into the forest. She had collected a pile of wood, then lashed it onto Ryder’s back and made him carry it back to the village on his hands and knees, poking him in the ribs and buttocks the whole way to the amusement of the other women in the village. She would never forget how humiliated Ryder had been, how he had refused to meet her gaze.
“I cannot believe she would do such a thing,” Chase said. He had never seen Alope be cruel or unkind to anyone.
“Well, it’s true,” Jenny said. “She was jealous because I was Kayitah’s prisoner. I think she hoped to make him jealous when she took Ryder for a slave, but it didn’t work.”
“And so the two of you ran away?”
Jenny nodded. “It was raining that night. We might have made it if my horse hadn’t gone down. I went into labor. Kayitah found us the next morning. He threatened to kill Ryder and me both if Ryder refused to give you up. When I realized I was going to lose you, I begged your father to take me back, but he refused.”
It had all been so long ago, Chase mused, yet he could hear the pain in her voice, as fresh as if it had happened yesterday.
Not knowing what to say, he took her hand in his and squeezed it.
A few minutes later, they reached the ranch.
* * * * *
Twenty minutes later, Chase was settled in bed, as comfortable as could be expected, all things considered.
Jenny hovered over him, wanting to do something, anything, to make the hurt go away. Just looking at her son, at the horrible bruises on his face and body, made her want to hit something—preferably Ralph Johnson.
“Are you there, cima?”
“Yes, I’m here,” Jenny said, her throat constricting as he used the Apache term for mother. “Do you need something?”
“Water. And…could you send Ryder to me?”
“Of course. Do you need anything else? Something to eat?”
“No.” He hesitated a moment. “Cima.”
“Yes, ciye?” she replied, using the Apache word for son.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For taking me in. For understanding my anger, and forgiving me for it.”
Tears filled Jenny’s eyes, sweet tears that washed away all the heartache of the past. “I’ll send Ryder in to you, Chase.”
* * * * *
For Chase, the next two days passed slowly. With his eyes still swollen shut, he was trapped in darkness. Most of the time, he slept, but when he was awake, his every thought was for Beth. He wondered if she was all right, if her father had dared to beat her, when he would see her again.
Three days after the beating, most of the swelling was gone from his eyes and he was able to get up for short periods of time.
Now, a week later, he stood at the front window in the parlor, staring out at the rain. The horses in the corral stood with their backs to the wind, their heads lowered. Beyond the grass that grew near the house, the earth was a sea of dark-brown mud. Thunder echoed across the skies; jagged bolts of lightning rent the clouds. Flames snapped and crackled in the hearth, turning away the chill.
The storm, the inactivity, made him restless.
He glanced at his mother, who was sitting on the sofa reading a book. Ryder sat beside her, mending a bridle.
“Chase, can I get you anything?” Jenny asked. “Some coffee, or a glass of milk?”
He shook his head.
“I’d like a cup of coffee,” Ryder said, looking up.
“Okay.”
“And maybe a slice of that cake you made this morning?”
“All right. Chase, are you sure you don’t want something?”
Glancing over his shoulder, he smiled at her. “You know I cannot resist your chocolate cake.”
“Good,” she said, rewarding him with a smile. “Two slices of cake coming right up.”
“I’ve never seen your mother so happy,” Ryder remarked, setting the bridle aside. “I can’t tell you what it’s meant for her to have you here.”
“It has been good for me, too.” And it had been, except for the trouble with Beth’s parents.
“What are you gonna do about Beth?” Ryder asked.
Chase grinned wryly, wondering if his thoughts were so transparent. “As soon as my ribs heal, I am going after her.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
Chase shrugged, wincing as the movement pulled on his injured ribs. “Love is not a matter of wisdom, but the heart. I cannot be whole without her.”
Ryder nodded, understanding what Chase meant all too well.
Try as he might, there didn’t seem to be
any way out of this mess that would make everybody happy.
* * * * *
Beth stood in front of the mirror arranging her hair in a braid atop her head. The day she had dreaded had come. Lester Harbaugh had arrived. A week late, to be sure, but he was here now. Her father had gone to pick him up and bring him to the house for dinner.
Pinning the braid in place, she turned away from the mirror and went to the window. Drawing back the curtain, she stared at the driving rain. It seemed fitting somehow.
The last week had been the worst of her life. Her mother and father had kept her under constant surveillance, refusing to let her out of the house, out of their sight, when she wanted nothing more than to go to Chase, to make sure he was all right.
She couldn’t forget how awful he had looked the last time she’d seen him, his whole body seeming to be a solid mass of discolored flesh, his face bruised, his eyes swollen shut.
Twice she had tried sneaking out of the house. Twice her father had caught her and brought her back. The second time he had locked her in her room for two days, refusing to let her even come down for meals. Beth blew out a sigh. Two days of being locked in her room with nothing to do but think. Two days of eating nothing but bread and milk.
And now Lester Harbaugh was here.
Knowing she couldn’t ignore the inevitable any longer, she took a last, disinterested look in the mirror to make sure nothing was showing that shouldn’t be, then made her way downstairs.
She heard voices in the front parlor and knew that Harbaugh had arrived.
Taking a deep, calming breath, she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin defiantly. And then she smiled. Maybe he wouldn’t want her. Maybe there was a way to make sure he wouldn’t want her.
Pasting a smile on her face, she stepped in to the parlor.
“Good evening, Mother. Father.”
“Elizabeth,” her mother said, beaming. “How pretty you look.” Theda Johnson held out her hands. “Come and meet Mr. Harbaugh, dear.”
“Hello, Elizabeth.”
She could only stare at him. This was Lester Harbaugh, this tall, blond, remarkably handsome man? Extending her hand, she smiled up at him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Harbaugh.”
“Indeed, Miss Johnson, the pleasure is all mine.” Bowing over her hand, he kissed it gallantly.
From that point on, the evening passed in a blur. She had been prepared to hate the man, had expected him to be old and fat and repulsive, but he was none of those things. He was, in fact, one of the nicest men she had ever met. His manners were impeccable. He had a remarkable sense of humor, an easy smile, and guileless brown eyes. If she hadn’t met Chase the Wind, she would have been quite swept off her feet by Lester Harbaugh’s considerable charm.
The evening passed pleasantly and before she knew it, she was bidding Lester good night and promising to see him again on the morrow.
Needless to say, her parents were delighted that she seemed to have accepted him so readily.
“Well, Elizabeth,” her father said, obviously pleased with himself, “what do you have to say now?”
“I like him very much,” she admitted honestly.
“I knew you would,” her mother said. “Ralph, we’re going to give Elizabeth the biggest wedding this town has ever seen.”
Ralph Johnson nodded. “Spare no expense, my dear,” he said, smiling expansively.
“Let’s see,” Theda said, “we’ll have to send to New York for a wedding dress, order champagne, invitations…”
“You might wait until the man proposes,” Beth remarked dryly.
“Oh, he will,” Ralph Johnson said confidently. “He will.”
* * * * *
Lester courted her for the next two weeks, bringing her candy, taking her to a dance at the church, listening to her play the piano. He told her about his daughters, and about his house, telling her obliquely that, once they were married, she could rearrange the house to suit herself, or buy a new one.
Beth entertained him graciously, partly because she genuinely liked him, and partly in hopes of lulling her parents into believing that she was smitten with the man.
Lester had been there a little over three weeks when he asked her father for her hand in marriage. Her father gave them his blessing, and they all drank a toast to the occasion. Later that night, Lester took Beth out on the porch and proposed. And because she really had no choice, because it was the only way to appease her father until she could talk to Lester about her plan, she said yes.
* * * * *
The rain let up the next afternoon, and Beth asked Lester to take her for a buggy ride out in the country. Lester was only too happy to oblige.
It wasn’t until they were away from town that Beth relaxed.
“Lester,” she said, “we have to talk.”
“Of course,” he said affably. “About what?”
“I can’t marry you.”
Startled, he reined the team to a halt, then turned on the seat to stare at her. “What do you mean?”
“I’m in love with someone else.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“I couldn’t. My parents don’t approve of him.”
“Why not?”
“He’s part Indian.”
“Indian! Surely you can’t mean to marry such a man.” Lester shook his head in disbelief. “An Indian, Beth. What will people say?”
“I don’t care what they say. I love him, and he loves me.”
“So, what do you want me to do?” he asked, looking understandably disgruntled.
“I want you to tell my parents that we don’t suit.”
“I think we suit very well,” Lester said. “I don’t mean to sound immodest, but I know you’re fond of me.”
“I am, I won’t deny it. But I don’t love you, and I never will.”
“Far be it from me to stand in the way of true love, but calling off our marriage won’t solve anything. Your parents will just find another suitor.” He smiled. “Maybe someone you don’t like at all.”
Beth sighed. What he said was all too true, but she wouldn’t, couldn’t, marry Lester Harbaugh. In her heart, she was already married to Chase. “Will you help me?”
“Help you do what?”
“Would you pretend to be my fiancé, and postpone the date of the wedding until I don’t need my father’s permission or approval to marry?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I don’t want you to take this wrong, but if we’re not to marry, then I need to go home. I have a law practice to think of, not to mention my children. I don’t want to be away from them any longer than necessary. Surely you can understand that?”
Beth nodded. She’d tried and failed. Now what? “Well,” she said, sighing heavily, “you’re right, of course. There’s no reason why you should help me. It was wrong of me to ask.”
Lester shifted his weight on the seat. Beth was a sweet girl, and she needed his help. And he’d never turned down a woman in need.
“Say, for the sake of argument, that I can convince your father to postpone the wedding a few weeks. Then what?”
“Why, then I’ll marry Chase, of course.”
Lester chuckled softly, amused by her gall. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You want me to carry on a mock engagement so you can dump me?”
Beth nodded, suddenly hopeful. “Will you do it?”
“I don’t know. Give me a few days to think about it.”
“All right.” She placed her hand on his arm when he picked up the reins. “Would you do me another favor?”
“Is it as flattering as the last one?”
“Would you take me out to see Chase?”
“Bless me, girl, you’ve got all the nerve in the world, don’t you?” he muttered, but he couldn’t deny he was curious to see the man who had captured Elizabeth Johnson’s heart.
“My father beat Chase when he found us together,” Beth explained. “I need to know he’s all rig
ht.”
“Why not,” Lester said. “If I can’t be Miles Standish, I might as well be John Alden.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Go on,” Lester said, reining the team to a halt in front of a rambling yellow house with white trim. “I’ll wait for you out here.”
“I won’t be long.”
“Don’t hurry on my account,” he muttered, chuckling softly.
Feeling as though her feet had wings, Beth flew out of the carriage and up the porch steps. She knocked on the front door, her heart fluttering wildly at the prospect of seeing Chase again.
But it was Dusty who answered the door.
“Beth!” he exclaimed softly. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello, Dusty. I…I came to see Chase.”
“Of course.” He stepped back. “Come in.”
“Thank you.”
Feeling awkward in his presence, she stepped into the parlor.
“How have you been?” Dusty asked.
“Fine, thank you.” She stared up at him, her hands clenching the material in her skirt. “I…Dusty…I…” She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s nothing to say,” he replied, his tone bitter. “You love Chase, and he loves you. I’d just like to know one thing: how could you run off with a stranger, a man you hardly knew?”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. Chase told me you’d only seen each other twice, once in town, and once at the river. Yet you drugged me and broke him out of jail and ran off with him. How could you do it?” He shook his head. “Why?”
Heat washed into Beth’s cheeks. “You make it sound so…so sordid,” she replied quietly. “It wasn’t like that. I can’t explain it, Dusty, I wish I could.”
Dusty shoved his hands in his pockets. Women! If he lived to be a hundred, he would never understand them. “He’s in the back bedroom on the left.”
“Dusty, I never meant to hurt you.”
“You didn’t.” It was a lie, but she didn’t have to know that.
“Well, I…” Not knowing what else to say, she hurried down the hallway.
Chase the Wind (Apache Runaway Book 2) Page 23