Comanche Woman

by Joan Johnston

  Bay saw the confusion in Creed’s eyes. Could Long Quiet possibly have told him about their relationship? Surely not, or Creed wouldn’t sit silently by and watch Jonas staking his claim on her. She dropped her eyes to avoid Creed’s piercing gaze. He could wonder all he wanted. She wasn’t going to confirm anything for him. She shrugged her shoulders in an attempt to remove Jonas’s arm. Grudgingly, he freed her from the possessive embrace and took up the reins again.

  The ride back to Three Oaks seemed endless to Bay. None of the three men spoke to one another again, and Bay was too distressed to worry about soothing the antagonism between Jonas and the other two men.

  When they arrived at the house, Bay turned to Jonas and said, “Thank you for the ride, Jonas.” In a whisper, she added, “I want to talk to you about . . . about what you announced to Creed. I’m not your fiancée, Jonas.” When he opened his mouth to protest, she reached out a hand to stop him. “Not now. We’ll talk about this another time.” She stepped down from the carriage without giving him a chance to help her and hurried into the house.

  Jonas examined Creed and Luke with a jaundiced eye, but he was helpless to do anything except take his leave. He nodded his head to the other two men and departed with a curt, “I’ll be seeing you.”

  “Not too soon, I hope,” Creed muttered under his breath as Jonas drove away.

  “What’s going on between Bay and that Jonas Harper fellow?” Luke asked.

  “I don’t know,” Creed replied, “but I sure as hell intend to find out.”

  Creed had no sooner swung down from his horse than Cricket flew into his arms. Creed took the time to properly greet his wife. Luke was grinning broadly by the time Creed’s lips were finally free. “I guess you missed me,” Creed murmured to his wife.

  “Every day, all day,” Cricket replied, breathless with excitement.

  “I brought someone to see you. I cleaned him up a bit and bought him some clothes in San Antonio, but I couldn’t do much about fattening him up. You’ll have to take care of that with some of your famous biscuits.”

  “Hello there,” Luke said. “Remember me?”

  Cricket stepped out of Creed’s arms and directly into Luke’s. There were tears in her eyes when she said, “I’m so glad you’re safe. I was so worried about you. And with good reason, it seems. Look at you. You’re so skinny!” She ran her hands over him appraisingly as she hugged him again. “You must be hungry.”

  Luke laughed. “As a matter of fact, I am. What’re you gonna do about it?”

  “Why, feed you, of course. You are staying for the christening, aren’t you, Luke?”

  “I’d like to. I got an assignment from Captain Hays when I was in San Antonio—have to investigate some irregularities in the registration of land titles in Shelby County—but I can stay for a while. How soon do you expect it’ll be?”

  “We’re still waiting for Creed’s brother and his wife to show up,” Cricket said.

  Creed ran a hand through his black hair. “You mean Tom and Amy aren’t here yet?”

  “I suspect the weather’s holding them up,” Cricket said, tucking an arm around each man’s waist and directing them toward the house. “We’ve had quite a bit of rain. The roads must be horrendous. But they shouldn’t be much longer getting here.”

  “Guess you’ll be our guest for a few days,” Creed said to Luke. “You don’t mind staying in the bachelors’ quarters here at Three Oaks, do you? I’ve got some pretty fond memories of that place myself.” Creed’s eyes gleamed, and Cricket fought the blush that rose to her cheeks at the memory of the first night she’d spent with Creed in the soft featherbed at the bachelors’ quarters.

  “Just lead me to this pretty little baby of yours,” Luke said.

  “Oh, Luke,” Cricket said. “You’re going to love her. She’s so beautiful.” Cricket grinned. “She’s got a few years to go yet before you can turn that charm of yours on her and have it work.”

  “What charm is that?” Luke asked innocently.

  Cricket laughed and shoved the two men through the front door ahead of her.

  Bay was waiting in the hall when the three of them came in. “Where’s Long Quiet?”

  Luke and Creed exchanged a glance before Creed answered, “He’s gone back to Comanchería.”

  Bay suddenly felt dizzy. She would have fallen if Luke hadn’t caught her.

  “Sit her down over here.” Cricket gestured for Luke to help Bay over to the rocker bench along one wall.

  “I . . . I thought he’d come . . .” Bay closed her eyes in misery. She hadn’t even admitted to herself that she’d hoped he would come to the christening. After all, he and Creed were best friends. She clenched her hands to hide their trembling. She was going to have to pick up the pieces of her life and keep on living. But, oh, how she missed Long Quiet!

  Cricket sat down next to her sister. Her eyes questioned Creed. Why was Bay so concerned about Long Quiet? Cricket tightened her arm around Bay’s shoulders. “I know you’d probably like another chance to thank Long Quiet, but I’m sure he understands how you feel.”

  Bay’s head came up slowly. “Yes . . . yes . . . I’m sure he does. It would have been nice to thank him again, but I suppose Creed can take my thanks and pass it along just as well.” She looked up at Creed and could tell from the look in his eyes that he knew more than he was saying. “Will you do that, Creed? Next time you see Long Quiet, will you tell him I said thanks for everything?”

  Creed’s brow furrowed. “If that’s what you want, sure. I’ll tell him you’re engaged to Harper, too.”

  Bay’s eyes widened as she realized Creed had believed Jonas’s announcement. “But I’m not!”

  “Jonas said you were.”

  Bay shook off Cricket’s supporting arm and stood up. “Jonas spoke out of turn. Yes, it’s true he’s asked me to be his wife, but I haven’t accepted.”

  “Oh, Bay, that’s wonderful!” Cricket said. “Are you going to accept?”

  “I . . .” Bay stared at the three faces confronting her. Was she going to say yes? What was she waiting for? A man as proud as Long Quiet wasn’t going to admit he’d made a mistake. He was never going to come back for her. And she could never go to him. She only wished she felt more for Jonas Harper than deep friendship. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “It’s a big decision. I don’t want to rush into it. I need some time to think.”

  With that she turned and crossed to Rip’s office, closing the door behind her. She didn’t want to think right now, and the best respite from thinking was to immerse herself in work. She pulled the ledger down from the shelf and opened it.

  It wasn’t long before Bay heard a knock on the door. She was only mildly surprised when Rip opened the door and entered. She’d known that word of Jonas’s proposal would soon reach Rip’s ears and that he’d want to hear from her why she hadn’t immediately accepted.

  “Cricket told me the good news. Of course you’ll accept,” he said. He smiled broadly. “I’ll expect to have my next grandchild within the year.”

  If Rip hadn’t said anything about children, perhaps Bay could have remained calm. But she’d only barely resigned herself to giving up Long Quiet. The added thought of never having his children was too much to bear. She rose and snapped, “I wouldn’t count on it!”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I haven’t even accepted Jonas’s offer yet and you already have me bearing his children. I won’t have it!”

  “What’s wrong with bearing Jonas’s children? You could do a lot worse than Jonas as a husband.”

  “I don’t need another husband!”

  It took the look of shock on Rip’s face for Bay to realize what she’d said. Another husband. Bay closed her eyes, then opened them again. She’d let the milk spill, the cat out of the bag, the horse from the barn.

  “You’re already married?” Rip asked in a tight voice.

  Bay laughed bitterly.

  “Then you’re a widow?”
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  “I’m not married. But I’m not a widow, either.”

  “Dammit, girl, it has to be one or the other,” Rip insisted.

  “He left me,” Bay said. “He brought me home and then he rode away and left me.”

  Rip’s eyes darkened as he realized the identity of Bay’s husband. “You married that half-breed Comanche, Long Quiet?”

  “Don’t you dare speak in that tone of voice about my husband!”

  “By your own word, he’s not your husband. How can you defend a man who abandoned you? He couldn’t have loved you very much if he left you standing on my doorstep.”

  “He loved me.”

  “How could he? He only found you a couple of weeks ago. Or was that a lie? How long have you known that half-breed?” Rip snarled.

  “Not very long. There were reasons why we . . . we had to get married.”

  The blood drained from Rip’s face. “You’re going to have his child?”

  “No! No. There were other reasons that forced us to marry.”

  “But he didn’t willingly make you his wife?”

  Bay shuddered and admitted, “No.”

  “Then how do you know he loved you?” Rip demanded.

  “He told me so.”

  Rip snorted. “Where is he now, this husband of yours?”

  “He went back to Comanchería.”

  “Is he coming back for you?”

  “I don’t . . .” Bay took a deep breath and said, “No. No, he isn’t.”

  Rip was silent for a moment, so Bay thought he might let the subject drop. But he didn’t.

  “So he just dumped you here and left.”

  Bay clenched her teeth in an attempt to stop the quivering of her chin. Rip always went for the jugular. It was part of what had made him so successful on the Texas frontier. She swallowed painfully over the lump in her throat, but though she opened her mouth to reply, no sound came out.

  Rip’s voice was surprisingly gentle when he said, “Don’t waste your life mourning for him, Bay. You deserve some happiness. A Comanche marriage doesn’t mean a thing here in Texas. Forget about it. Forget about him. Your Comanche could never have given you what Jonas Harper can—respectability, a comfortable home, and a rich legacy for your children.”

  What about love? Bay wanted to shout. But she said nothing. There was no winning an argument with Rip. “I don’t know if I can marry Jonas without telling him the truth.”

  Rip reached out and held Bay with a hand on each shoulder, forcing her to listen to him. “There’s not a man in Texas, Jonas included, who would touch you with anything but contempt if he knew the truth. Think, Bay! You’re destined for greater things than being some half-breed Comanche’s woman. I’ve planned too long and worked too hard to have you end up pining away for some man who doesn’t love you enough to keep you by his side.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Don’t defend him to me. He had his chance. Now it’s Jonas’s turn.”

  “But what if Long Quiet changes his mind?”

  “If he ever changes his mind, it’ll be too late. You’ll already be Jonas Harper’s wife.”

  Once upon a time Bay would have greeted Rip’s dictum with resignation. But Bay had more to say, and so she said it. “The choice is mine. I’ll make my own decision whether or not to become Jonas’s wife.”

  Bay could hardly believe the look of approval in Rip’s eyes, but there was no mistaking his smile when he replied, “All right, Bay. You know your own mind. I’ll trust you to decide what’s right for you. But think about it, won’t you? Jonas will make a good husband, and you do care for him. I can’t tell you what to say to Jonas about Long Quiet. But I will say it won’t help for him to know. It can only hurt.”

  Rip turned on his heel and left. Bay stared after him for a moment, too numb to move. Rip had actually said she could make her own decision. She wasn’t the only one who’d changed over the past three years. The Rip who could admit he cared, the Rip who could reach out a hand to help, the Rip who said she could decide for herself was not the same Rip who’d dictated to his daughters in the past. He’d mellowed with age, like a fine wine.

  Bay visualized her father as he was, with threads of gray in his hair and wrinkles on his face. He wasn’t a young man anymore. Were the changes in his personality simply the result of his getting older? Or, given a second chance, had he decided to treat her as more than a disappointing daughter? Whatever the reasons for his new behavior, Bay was more than willing to meet him halfway. She would try to be worthy of the trust he was showing in her judgment.

  Unfortunately, all she wanted to do right now was lay her head down and cry. She barely made it to the chair in front of the desk before she collapsed with her head cradled in her arms on the desktop. She cried for the loss of her Comanche child. She cried for the father who was growing old. And she cried for the true love she’d lost and could never hope to find again.

  Sloan had come to the plantation office to ask Bay to order more nails and had ended up hearing more than she wanted to of Rip’s conversation with Bay. When she stepped into Rip’s office, she found her sister with her head down on the desk, her tear-streaked face half hidden in her arms. Sloan hated seeing Bay suffer, especially over a man.

  “Crying won’t bring him back.”

  Bay jerked her head up at the sound of Sloan’s voice. She quickly wiped the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her dress.

  “I ought to know,” Sloan continued. “I cried enough tears when Antonio got himself killed.”

  “Long Quiet’s not dead.”

  “He might as well be. Face it, Bay. He’s never coming back. You’re learning, the same as I did, that you can’t trust a man not to hurt you. He’ll take your heart and tear it in two and throw the pieces back in your face like so much useless paper.”

  “I love him,” Bay protested.

  Sloan laughed, and the harsh sound sent chills up Bay’s spine.

  “He used you. The way Antonio used me.”

  “No!”

  “You’re better off forgetting him,” Sloan said, but her voice broke when she placed her hand on Bay’s shoulder and added, “I’m sorry, Bay. Truly sorry.”

  When Sloan left, Bay wiped the tears from her eyes. Sloan was right about one thing. Crying wasn’t going to solve anything. She couldn’t believe Sloan was right about Long Quiet’s using her, but the fact was he’d left her and he wasn’t ever coming back. Admitting the truth was hard, and it left her hurt and angry. But it also left her free to make her decision.

  Bay wasn’t so distraught that she couldn’t see what the future held for her. She could refuse Jonas’s proposal, but what would that accomplish? She knew Rip too well to think he wouldn’t find another man to present to her in Jonas’s place. And maybe the next man wouldn’t be someone she liked as much as she liked Jonas. . . . And at least Jonas loved her.

  Her decision wasn’t so difficult after all.

  The next day Bay took special pains with her appearance. She donned a green cambric dress that left the tops of her shoulders bare, then followed the lines of her lush figure, cinching her waist tightly before it fell in gathered folds to the floor. The mint color emphasized her honey skin and complemented her auburn hair, which she parted down the middle and let fall in pert sausage curls that framed her face.

  When Jonas arrived that afternoon, she didn’t keep him waiting. “Hello, Jonas.” This time she was first to extend her hands to him. She could see his delight at her appearance and his surprise that she’d made the overture to greet him for a change.

  “You’re lovely. Simply lovely,” Jonas said, his approval making his voice husky. He brought her hands to his lips, but let them linger, taking his time and letting her feel his need in the pressure of his touch. He was smiling ruefully when he said, “Will you marry me, Bay?”

  “Yes.”

  Jonas stood stunned while he tried to absorb Bay’s agreement. “You will?”

  “Yes,
Jonas. I’ll marry you.” Bay felt almost ill, but the discomfort eased somewhat at the smile of pleasure that lit Jonas’s face.

  “We’ll announce our engagement at the christening party,” he said enthusiastically, “and get married at Christmas. How does that sound?”

  “I . . . uh . . . fine . . . I guess.”

  Bay was cut off when Jonas’s mouth came down to cover hers possessively. It was a practiced kiss and Bay wondered for a moment where Jonas had learned it. It amazed her that she could remain detached enough to make such an observation. Although Jonas’s kiss was pleasant, she felt nothing of the fire she’d experienced in Long Quiet’s arms. She tried to imagine baring herself to Jonas’s gaze, allowing him to touch her freely. She shuddered unexpectedly but attributed it to the natural modesty she would have felt at having any man look upon her naked body.

  “I can feel you trembling with pleasure, sweetheart,” Jonas said, breaking the kiss. “Perhaps that kiss was a bit too forward, but I wanted you to have some idea of the delights in store for you when we’re husband and wife. Shall we go find your father and tell him the good news?”

  “You go,” Bay said with a tremulous smile. She’d agreed to marry Jonas, but that didn’t mean she was ready to endure Rip’s sure-to-be-satisfied countenance.

  “I’ll see you later, darling,” Jonas said.

  Bay concentrated to keep from frowning at Jonas’s endearment. She stood patiently as he dropped another quick kiss on her lips, before he headed in search of Rip.

  Bay slid onto the settee as her knees buckled. What had she done? How was she ever gong to survive her wedding night with Jonas Harper? What was he going to say when he discovered that the woman he thought trembled at his amorous kiss wasn’t even a virgin?

  The next three weeks passed slowly for Bay. Jonas was delighted that she’d accepted his proposal. Rip stalked around the plantation wearing a perpetual grin. It was Luke who made Bay uneasy. His perceptive eyes watched her constantly, and it was clear he wasn’t fooled by the smile she wore for everyone else’s benefit.