Comanche Rose

by Anita Mills

  Pulling the cat loose, he thrust it down to Annie. "Here's your damned cat," he muttered. "Keep it quiet—they'll be back. And for God's sake, lie low." Crouching, he drew the Peacemaker and spun the cylinders, adding a bullet to the sixth chamber. "Don't fire the Henry unless you have to," he told her. "The sound'll echo, and there's no telling who'll hear it. If it looks like they're going to find us, I'm taking off up there. No matter what happens, you stay put, you hear? I'll come back for you."

  "Your leg—"

  "I can make it. If I don't, then you wait until it's over before you hightail it back the way they came. Whatever you do, don't try to come after me."

  "Hap—"

  "Shhhh. Just keep the cat quiet." Reaching down, he clasped her hand, massaging her fingers, feeling his father's ring. "Look, it'll be all right," he tried to reassure her. "But if it looks like they're going to pin us down, I want 'em to follow me up that cliff."

  "I don't want you to leave me, Hap, not now."

  "I aim to stay, if I can." But he could hear the Cheyenne war party coming back. He took a deep breath. "Look, whatever happens, I have no regrets, Annie. I want you to know that. I've loved you since I woke up during that bath you were giving me. I saw that hair and thought you were an angel."

  "Hap, I—"

  "Shhhhh."

  He felt her fingers tighten around his, drawing his hand to her cheek. It was wet. Then she pressed her lips into his palm and whispered, "I love you more than anything."

  He'd never wanted to die, but he'd always thought if it happened, it wouldn't matter much. But now he wanted to live more than anything, and it didn't make any difference if he spent the rest of his life on that farm. As long as he had her, he didn't need anything else. Moving his head ever so slightly, he peered around the edge of the boulder that shielded him.

  They were down there, going through his things, emptying the packs, dragging out Annie's two extra dresses, taking what they wanted. He held his breath, knowing they knew he and Annie were either up here or down in one of those narrow fissures in the canyon wall. Several painted bucks began the search on foot, turning over the cedar boughs he'd cut, kicking through the brush.

  One of them gave out a sharp, startled cry and backed away. An Indian with him fired an ancient gun, and a rattlesnake writhed in a loop, then was still. As the report reverberated off the rocks, Hap knew the place was going to be crawling with Indians in a matter of minutes. There were too many little camps strewn along the canyon floor, and fearing attack, the warriors would be pouring out of every one of them.

  There were about ten or twelve Cheyennes down there, and they were dividing up. One pointed directly toward the boulders where Hap and Annie hid; then he and several companions began climbing, carefully picking at the rocks, ascending the steep hill. If they got too close, he'd have to kill them. Then all hell really would break loose.

  One Indian was probably within twenty feet of him now. Easing his fingers from Annie's, Hap cocked the Peacemaker and waited to make his break. He had to time it right, to surprise them into following him. He twisted his neck, looking upward, trying to decide the best way to go. When they got above her, he didn't want them to be able to see her.

  He couldn't wait any longer. Praying that the damned cat stayed quiet and that Annie stayed put, he stood up and fired, catching the closest Cheyenne between the eyes. The bullet slammed him backward and sent him rolling down, knocking a companion over. Then his body slid into a crevice and lodged there. Taking advantage of the momentary confusion, he cut sideways across a ledge, then fired again, wounding another Indian. He had to get them as far away from Annie as possible, and he had to keep them looking at him.

  But he'd given himself a damned poor place to make a stand. The ledge ended in a sheer drop, and there wasn't any way up either. Cursing fate and his leg, he grasped an overhang and tried to pull himself up. A bullet nicked the limestone within inches of his hand. He was probably the best target they'd had in a long time. Summoning every last ounce of strength in his shoulders, he heaved his body upward, threw his foot over the edge, hung there for a moment, then half rolled onto a rock shelf, dragging his bad leg behind him. While he caught his breath, he replaced the two cartridges.

  When he looked down, his heart nearly stopped. A handhold away from Annie, a buck was coming up. He took aim, fired, and missed. But at least he'd warned her. As the Cheyenne looked up at him, he got off another shot, this time hitting his mark. The Indian rolled, screaming all the way down the hill.

  Thinking they'd seen her, Annie rose and fired the Henry, picking off a man just starting up the steep, rocky wall. To Hap's horror, she was going to try to come up after him. Clasping the cat against her breast, she fired several shots as she ran, gaining the rock where he'd started.

  "Behind you, coming up the other side!" he yelled.

  Her foot slid as she tried to turn around, and for an awful moment he thought she was going to fall into the Indian's arms. And he didn't have a clear target. He squeezed off a shot at a rock nearby, splintering a piece off it. As the Cheyenne ducked, she scrambled higher, clawing her way up on the ledge Hap had nearly stranded himself on.

  This was it. Armageddon. Mounted Comanches were pouring around the bed in the canyon, and before long the whole wall would be swarming with them. And they wouldn't be wanting to listen to anybody now. But he wasn't going easy—he was going to take as many as he could with him. He reloaded, looked down again, and saw that Annie realized her predicament.

  "Cover me. I'm coming down!" he shouted.

  "No! They'll get you!" she screamed back. "Go on up!"

  "Not without you!" As he said it, he lowered his body over the edge, then dropped down in a hail of bullets. "Whooeee!" he managed, ducking back on the ledge. Hearing the buzz behind him, he swung around. A western diamondback lay coiled, ready to defend its territory. It was the biggest he'd ever seen. "Damn."

  As she raised the rifle to shoot it, he had another idea. Taking the gun away from her, he jabbed at it. As it struck for him, he caught it with the barrel and flung it over the side. An Indian below bellowed in pain as it struck him.

  There were shouts coming from the canyon floor, then the shooting stopped. Taking advantage of the lull, Hap checked the Henry's magazine and reloaded. He didn't know what they were planning, but he knew he wasn't going to like it. Putting his arm around Annie's shoulder, he sat there, waiting.

  "I shouldn't have asked this of you," she said, her voice low. "I'm sorry, Hap."

  "For what? For giving me the best six or seven weeks of my life?" he countered.

  "For getting you killed." She bit her lip to still its trembling, then leaned her head back against his shoulder. "I shouldn't have come. I should've known it wouldn't happen, but I had to hope, Hap. I couldn't let go of her."

  "Hey, it's not over yet, Annie."

  "There must be a hundred Indians down there." Twisting her head, she tried to see his face. "I didn't want to believe it, but I'm never going to find her. She's just gone."

  "You don't know that."

  She swallowed hard, trying to force down the lump in her throat. "I had no right to ask this of you."

  "It's all right, Annie. I never had much until I had you, you know. I never had an Ethan or a Jody or a Susannah, but I've got a notion I'd do my damnedest to get any kid of mine back. I always wanted one, you know."

  "You'd have had one. Sometime after the first of the year. I'm sorry, Hap. I didn't meant to cheat you out of that, too."

  He sat very still, holding her, trying to take in what she was telling him. "How long have you known?" he said finally.

  "About two weeks." She swallowed again and closed her eyes. "I was afraid you'd make me go back if I told you. I was afraid once you knew, you wouldn't care anything about finding Susannah. I think I was wrong, wasn't I?"

  "Yeah."

  "You'd have gone on, anyway, because you gave your word."

  "Yeah."

  It was too
quiet out there, as though nothing was moving, nothing was happening. Easing a little closer to the edge, he looked down.

  "Well, I'll be damned," he said softly. Turning back to her, he was grinning.

  "I don't understand. What...?"

  "Look for yourself."

  "You're not making any sense."

  "You've got yourself a friend down there."

  She peered cautiously, then drew back. "Bull Calf!"

  "Sure looks like him, anyway."

  Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, she shouted down, "Wyitepah!" waving at him. As he shaded his eyes to see her, she added, "Saleahweah! Nermernuh!" pointing to herself.

  The ugly Comanche raised his hand in the sign of peace, then gesturing toward Hap. "Tondehwahkah!" Turning to those gathered around him, he pointed up again. "Tondehwahkah!" Several of them began holding their hands up, showing peace also. The ugliness evaporated.

  Annie clutched Hap's arm. "It's all right, we're going to make it. We're going to get to go home, after all, Hap. We're going to get our chance." Seeing that he frowned, she sobered also. "What's the matter?"

  "I'm wondering how the hell I'm getting you down from here."

  "The same way I came up," Then she understood. "I knew if I told you, you wouldn't want me to do anything. And it's not like that at all. I never had any trouble carrying Susannah or Jody."

  "Yeah, but you're older."

  "And I'm healthy. That's all that counts, you know."

  "I'll go first," he decided. "At least that way I can catch you. And give me that damned cat." Retrieving the hissing animal, he stuffed it inside his shirt. "Scratch me again," he warned it, "and it won't be Cheyennes eating you."

  By the time they'd slipped and slid down the rocks, the Penetaka chief had dismounted and was waiting for them. His piercing, black-eyed gaze took in Hap, then her before he spoke. Leaving the white man out of it, he engaged in a lengthy conversation in Comanche with Annie, punctuating his words with his hands. After a number of exchanges and much head shaking, he finally turned to Hap.

  "You come." It sounded more like an order than an invitation. Before Hap could respond, he barked out something to a Mexican slave. "You come," he repeated. "Bull Calf give gift."

  It was Old Red. The wily Penetaka was giving him his own horse. That and his life, Hap reminded himself. If old Bull Calf hadn't shown up, he'd have been parting with his hair. As it was, the Cheyennes who'd just gathered up their dead didn't seem too happy about that turn of events, but they weren't arguing either. Walking to the mules, he knew he had to make a real gesture. Behind him, Annie said low, "He'll take us to Quanah—he's seen Quanah."

  Quanah Parker, the scourge of Texas. As many times as Hap had crisscrossed the state tracking Indians, he'd never gotten a look at the half-white Quahadi war chief who had such a bitter hatred for everything Anglo. And it was something he could have stood missing, but he realized the significance of Bull Calf's offer. This was what they'd been hoping for, and one way or another, maybe it would answer the question of whether Susannah Bryce had survived.

  "Well, I guess you've finally struck paydirt" was about all the could think to say.

  Aware of the longstanding enmity between the Texas Rangers and the Quahadi war chief, she said quietly, "You don't have to go, Hap—you can wait for me. Bull Calf said he'd bring me back."

  "Like hell." His forced smile twisted. "I'm in this for the full haul, Annie. Ever hear of 'whither thou goest'?"

  "That was Ruth and her mother-in-law," she reminded him. "But Quanah's on the warpath. Bull Calf says he's smoked the war pipe with the Kiowas and the Cheyenne. And I guess even some of the reservation Comanches are coming down to join him."

  "And Mackenzie's going to cram it down his throat," he muttered tersely. Rummaging through the few things that had been left in the packs, he found Annie's sack of coffee, his tablet, and his dirty clothes. Hiding his anger at being robbed by the Cheyennes, he turned back to Bull Calf. "Tell him he can have the mules, if he can get 'em back for me," he directed Annie.

  She repeated the offer, drawing a wide grin from the Comanche. After a quick conference with their earlier attackers, he managed to persuade them to return most of what they'd taken, even the animals. As painted Cheyenne warriors mounted up to continue along the war trail, and Comanches melted into the canyon, the Mexican promptly took possession of Bull Calf's new mules.

  "You'd better take what you want, Annie. I'm going to have to give 'em the rest. Reckon it'll be pretty light traveling from here on out."

  "Bull Calf says we'll have to hurry, Hap. He says Quanah's going to be moving down to the Big Spring before long."

  "Maybe we should've waited for him down there."

  "It'll be a big war party. There are hundreds of them, I guess."

  And he had no way of stopping them. After all his years of fighting the damned Comanches, he was going in to Quanah Parker's camp, acting like some sort of relative. And knowing they were going to be raiding the farms and ranches he'd fought so hard to protect would stick like a bone in his craw. But for her he was going to do it. Then just as soon as he could get up to Sill or over to Richardson, he was going to tell the army where to find Quanah.

  "What did you tell him about me?" he asked finally.

  "That you're my husband. He knows why we're here, Hap—I just told him. But he can't promise anything except that he can get us to Quanah. He says we'll be even then."

  "Yeah. Well, I won't be telling any of 'em. Hell, I can barely sign enough to keep my hair on." Walking back to the packs, he began stuffing his clothes and shaving gear into one of the pouches. "When does he want to leave?"

  "Now. The others are going on without him, and I think he hopes he can catch up."

  "How far is it?"

  "He didn't say—only that he's been there, and he knows where it is. There are a lot of places in this canyon to hide, Hap." She hesitated for a moment, then said somberly, "He says there are a lot of Noconis in Quanah's camp. I, uh, didn't ask him anything about Two Trees."

  "You don't have to worry about the son of a bitch. All you've got to do is point him out to me."

  "You can't kill him, Hap. You wouldn't get out alive."

  "I'll find a way." Clasping her shoulder, he turned her to face him. "When I get riled, I've got a real mean streak in me, Annie. And every time I think of what he did to you, I get real riled."

  "I'd rather have you alive than anything, Hap—than anything else in this world."

  Even there, in front of Bull Calf and his Comanches, he wasn't proof against those blue eyes of hers. A slow, confident smile spread across his face. "You didn't marry a fool, Annie. We've both got a lot to live for now."

  CHAPTER 24

  After more than two days of searching through the huge Quahadi camp, Annie finally conceded she'd done all she could. As she and Hap were walking back along the river, she gave up. She was tired, sick, and there was no longer any reason to believe that Susannah was alive. That, coupled with the fact that the camp was swelling with more Cheyennes every day, made it difficult to stay where sentiment ran high against Hap. It was only Bull Calf's influence and Comanche reluctance to murder a guest that kept them from killing an old enemy.

  She'd been silent, lost in thought so long that she startled him when she spoke up. "I think we ought to go home, Hap."

  As much as he'd wanted to hear those words, he ached for her. "We don't have to, Annie. The summer's not over," he said gently.

  "No, it's over. You were right in the first place, you know. She probably didn't live through that first awful winter."

  "Annie—"

  "I'm all right, Hap. I looked as hard as I could, and I can live with that."

  "Yeah."

  There were no words of comfort to say. Later, when she lay in his arms, he'd try to ease the pain, but right now there was nothing. Instead, he took her hand and walked slowly back to the tipi Sun in the Morning had set up for them. Now there wasn't any sense prolo
nging her agony.

  "We'll leave in the morning at first light," he decided finally.

  "Yes."

  His hand tightened around hers, pressing his father's ring into his fingers. "We've got the baby to think of now. When I get home, I'm going to try my hand at making a cradle. I know I haven't said much about it, but I didn't want you to think I didn't care about Susannah," he went on. "I would've really liked having a daughter, Annie, I want you to know that."

  "Yes."

  "I always wanted a kid, you know, but I never really thought it'd happen. I know you're hurting, but I kinda feel like I've got everything a man could want. Maybe I'm an old fool, but I'm looking forward to seeing what it's going to look like, how it's going to grow, who it's going to be."

  "You want a son, don't you?"

  "It doesn't matter. To tell the truth, if it gets my hair, I hope to hell it's a girl."

  "I don't know why you hate it so much. I've always liked it—it makes you look like a kid yourself, you know. And there's nothing wrong—" She stopped dead in her tracks to stare at a group of half-naked Indian children splashing in the water, and for a moment there was no mistaking the yearning in her face. Then she recovered. "I almost thought..."

  He followed her gaze, looking them over with what had become a practiced eye. While he couldn't see all of the faces, none of them looked white.

  "What?"

  "I don't know. The way that girl turned her head—" She sighed, then settled her shoulders. "I can see now I was mistaken."

  "Yeah."

  "I've wanted to believe so many times that my mind plays tricks with my heart, I guess."

  "There's nobody over there that looks like you, Annie."

  "I know."

  "You probably ought to lie down for a while."

  "I will. But first I'm going to tell Bull Calf we're going."

  "Yeah, I thought he wanted to catch up to that war party," he recalled.

  "I think he was afraid if he left, Tondehwahkah might not get out of here alive." Sighing again, she admitted, "I don't want him to die, Hap. I know what happened at Sill gave him a bad taste of the reservation, but he's got to go back, and I'm going to tell him that." Spying Sun in the Morning outside Bull Calf's tipi, she stopped. "I'll be along directly, but first I'm going to try to convince her, too."