Comanche Rose

by Anita Mills

  "Uh!"

  Waseca rolled from his pallet to grope for his gun, while Asabeti screamed. The boy tried to scramble for cover and managed to run into his mother, knocking her down. As Waseca got off a shot, Hap began firing over the horses, stampeding the frightened animals. Finding Old Red where he'd left him, he threw Susannah in front of his saddle and swung up behind her. Frantic, the child tried to dive over the other side, but he pulled her back over the pommel and horn, slid an arm across her chest, and held her tightly.

  Jamming the Colt back in his holster, he dug his spurs into the horse's flank and rode like hell for the place where he'd left Annie, with Waseca's calls for his horses echoing in his ears. The kid writhed and kicked and screamed herself hoarse, but he couldn't relax his hold for fear she'd bite him.

  He splashed across the stream and came up a narrow ravine, then headed south long enough to leave enough sign for Waseca to follow. Then he doubled back up a worn rock trail, came up behind the rimrock, and cut across hard-baked ground. Reining in, he tried to listen, but if there was anything out there he ought to be hearing, Susannah was drowning it out.

  "Here now, that's enough," he said gruffly. "Reckon you're going to have to get over this, else I'm going to be stuffing my kerchief in that mouth."

  It didn't help. If she understood English, she wasn't letting on. And he was pretty sure he didn't want to know what she was saying in Comanche.

  "Look, you and me have got to come to an understanding," he told her. "You either straighten up, or I'm going to stop and paddle your backside, you hear?"

  She fell silent for a moment, letting him think maybe she knew what he'd said. "Yeah, Susannah."

  "T'sana!"

  "They're both pretty names—sound a lot alike, in fact." Shifting uncomfortably on the pony's back, he tried to ease her more toward the middle. "Owww! Damn! Now, what did you have to do that for?"

  She'd sunk her teeth deep into his forearm and clenched her jaws to keep them there. He could feel blood running down his elbow, but there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. And he knew it was going to get a whole lot worse. Reaching around her with his other hand, he pinched her nose shut.

  "All right, now let's see how long you can hold that breath," he muttered. "Old Tondehwahkah isn't going to put up with much more of this," he warned her. Finally, she let go and so did he. "You know, your ma's gone through hell to get you back, don't you? Yeah, she's been looking at every kid between here and the Concho hoping she was going to find you. You've got to give her credit for that—it ought to mean something to you. She's been real worried about you, Susannah."

  "T'sana!"

  "Yeah, well, you weren't always a heathen. Time was when you were a little white girl living on a farm down along the San Saba River with your ma, your pa, and a baby brother. I reckon everything was pretty nice for you back then, huh?"

  He could tell by the stiff set of her shoulders that she was just waiting for him to make another mistake. And he wasn't about to do it. Instead he just kept talking.

  "Your little brother's name was Jody—yeah, Jody Bryce—and you were Susannah Bryce. Your ma's name is Anne, but we call her Annie. And that little doll I gave you—it used to be yours, you know. You named it Molly."

  He didn't know how long he talked, only that he never stopped, all the way back to where Annie was. The summer sun was coming up by the time he got there, and every muscle and every bone in his body ached, but there was no time to stop for anything more than a bite to eat and enough of a walk to stretch his legs.

  She was up and waiting for them, running across the flat, grassy land the moment she saw him. And the look on her face made everything worthwhile. She caught his bridle and stood there, her eyes wet with unshed tears.

  "I got her for you, Annie. She's a mite tired from hollering, but she's in good shape."

  "Susannah?" she said softly, touching the child's leg.

  The little girl came awake kicking as Annie reached up to her. "Watch out, she'll get you real good if you don't," he warned her. "Here now, stop that."

  "You look tired enough to die, Hap," Annie said.

  "I'm all right." Sliding from the saddle to the ground, he reached back up for Susannah. And as the blanket fell away, he could see she still held the doll. Her blue eyes regarded him warily for a moment, then she leaned into his arms. "That's better. You know, you're almost as pretty as your ma." As he set her down, he looked to Annie. "If you've got any, I could sure take some coffee."

  She nodded. "And I've got mush made. I thought maybe she'd eat it, that it would be close enough to the boiled meal Asabeti would have fixed."

  "Yeah. And you'll probably want to delouse her before we go on. Wash her up some, get a good look at her." Yawning, he sank to the ground and leaned his head back against the trunk of a tree.

  "Are you all right?"

  "Just going to rest my eyes," he mumbled. "I'll be ready to go in a few minutes."

  When he woke up, the sun was midway up in the sky, and steam was rising from the grass. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around, then stumbled to stand. Then he saw Annie. She was sitting beside a blanket, her knees drawn up under her skirt, singing softly. And Susannah was asleep on her stomach, one arm around the doll, the other around Spider. Swinging his arms to ease aching shoulders, he walked over.

  She had the kid cleaned up and wearing his shirt, and he could see now that her hair was a darker blond than Annie's. Asleep, the little girl looked about as sweet and innocent as any kid he'd seen. He could feel a lump in his throat.

  "She looks a whole lot better, doesn't she?"

  Annie looked up at him. "She doesn't remember anything, Hap, but I think she will. When I started speaking Comanche to her, she calmed right down, so I've been sort of mixing it up a little, telling her about me and Jody and Ethan in the language, then singing songs I used to sing to her and Jody in English." She swallowed visibly. "If I live to be a hundred, I'll never be able to repay you for this, Hap."

  "You already have, Annie. In a hundred ways."

  CHAPTER 26

  "Come on, Comanche Rose," he murmured, lifting the little girl from her mother's arms. "I know some folks that are going to want a good look at you."

  Cora Sprenger had been on the porch waiting for them, but before Hap set Annie down, she was hurrying across the yard. "My goodness—if you all aren't a sight for sore eyes!" Stopping when she saw Susannah, she wiped back tears. "Oh, Annie... you found her!"

  "Hap did."

  "Looks like you've done all right for yourself, Hap. Leg working like you'd want it to?" Will Sprenger asked, coming up behind him.

  "Yeah."

  "Limp's better?"

  "Yeah."

  "Will, this is Susannah," Cora spoke up. "They found her."

  "Well, if you aren't a pretty little thing," Sprenger said, turning his attention to the sober child. "You look just like your mama, don't you? What's that you've got there?"

  "A damned cat," Hap answered for her.

  "A cat?"

  "Yeah—all the way from San Saba, Doc."

  "My God."

  "Oh, I don't know," Hap conceded, "it's been pretty game about the whole thing. The kid hasn't turned loose of it in three days, and so far it's not scratched her."

  "You don't say?"

  "Yeah. It's made that part easier, anyway."

  "She's getting along all right?"

  "It's been up and down, but it's getting a whole lot better." Turning to where Annie stood, her hand in Susannah's, he nodded. "It's going to be all right. She's not nearly the hell-raiser Clay was. In fact, she's a little on the bashful side, but I figure to change that. Probably when she starts speaking English, I'll be wishing for peace."

  "You look happy, Hap," Will decided.

  "Luckiest man on earth, Doc—luckiest man on earth. And about to get a whole lot luckier. I reckon the next time I see you there'll be four of us."

  "Well, if that's not something! I'm real glad for you
—for both of you—and I mean that."

  "Thanks."

  "Guess the old Rangers are really settling down," Will observed. "I read in one of the Texas newspapers where Clay has a baby daughter."

  He didn't know why, but Hap had always sort of expected Clay to have a boy as wild as himself. But it didn't matter—a man took what God gave him. Yet as the notion took hold, he couldn't help smiling. "Nothing like a little girl to make a man proud, Doc. 'Course I've been writing a book for his boy, but I guess maybe his girl can read it just as well. Same way with mine."

  "A book?"

  "Yeah. Some fellow wanted to know what it was like being a Texas Ranger back in the old days, so I thought I might tell him. Kinda straighten him out, maybe."

  "I'd like to see it."

  "Why not? But right now I've got a little business to take care of first; then I'll be back over to wash up. I kinda wanted to check on something over at the store." Motioning to Susannah, he said, "Want to come with me? Let's go get something real pretty, eh?"

  The child regarded him solemnly, saying nothing. Yet, when he held out his hand, she took it. As they walked toward the post store, they were an odd sight, the limping ex-Ranger and the little girl with the black cat looking over her shoulder.

  Will watched, shaking his head, thinking of all the things in his life that had surprised him: Annie Bryce's marriage to Hap Walker was right up there near the top of the list. But now that he'd seen them, he could tell that it was right, that it had given them both a fresh start in life, something they'd both desperately needed. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the expression on Annie's face as she looked after her husband and daughter. If she wasn't a woman in love with her man, he'd never seen one.

  "Cora, you'd better get her out of that sun," he said suddenly. "Make her a little tea, then see that she lies down."

  "Where are you going?"

  "Looks like Hap's lost—he was going to the store, but he's headed for the chapel. Maybe I'll go straighten him out," Will said. "Besides, I've got ten cents that says that little girl needs some horehound candy."

  Wherever he'd been, Hap came back all cleaned up, his face shaved, his hair slicked back, reeking of lilacs. And somewhere along the line, he'd managed to buy or borrow a blue dress, white pinafore, black stockings, and button shoes for Susannah. As proud as she seemed of her finery, she was having trouble with the shoes, walking like a greenhorn cowboy in a new pair of boots.

  "My, Susannah, but don't you look pretty!" Annie exclaimed. Turning to Hap, she wondered, "Where on earth did you find her all those things?"

  "Preacher's wife took a shine to her, and they've got a girl about a year older. I don't think the shoes are much of a fit, though," he conceded. "But once she got 'em on, I couldn't get 'em off her. Then we walked over to the store, and I let her pick out whatever she wanted."

  "You shouldn't have spent so much—that cameo locket must have cost a small fortune."

  "Isn't every day a man gets a daughter," he responded, shrugging. "And she seemed to like it. Besides, I got money, Annie—I just never had much I wanted to spend it on before."

  Annie's gaze returned to Susannah, who was still fingering the small locket lovingly. If she hadn't been browned by the sun, she'd have looked every bit as delicate as Annie had remembered her. But right now, her brilliant blue eyes seemed almost startling in that sun-bronzed face.

  "Thank you, Hap," she said softly.

  "For what?"

  "For everything—for Susannah—for being you."

  At that moment, Spider had apparently finally had enough wooling, for he decided to make his escape, and leaped for the open door to the Sprengers' bedroom, where he disappeared under the bed. "Maaa-maaa!" Susannah called out, pointing.

  "Better go get him—no telling what he can get into in there," Hap told Annie.

  As soon as mother and child were gone from the room, he called Cora outside, where he conferred conspiratorially with her. When they came in, Cora picked up the broom, shooed Annie out of the bedroom, and joined Susannah on the floor to rout the cat. Alone in the parlor, Hap just stood there for a moment, smiling. Finally, he cleared his throat and sobered visibly.

  "Reckon I've kinda got something I've been wanting to say to you, Annie," he began.

  Her eyes widened at the serious tone in his voice, but she let him go on. He shifted his weight off his bad leg, then reached to take her hand.

  "It wasn't right the way we got married, Annie."

  She could almost feel her heart stop.

  "I owed you better, but I didn't want to wait. I guess I was afraid if you got a chance to think about it, you might change your mind."

  She had to bite her lip to still its trembling. "I'd have been a fool if I had," she managed to say.

  "I guess now I'd like to think we've got something real to build on, that if you had the choice now, you'd do it all over again."

  "Yes."

  "I thought I was too old to love anybody like I love you, Annie—I thought life had kinda passed me by in that. But you taught me different, you know."

  She could scarce swallow for the lump in her throat. "You don't have to say this, Hap."

  "Yeah, I do. I love you more than life, Annie—and I'd like to do it right." His blue eyes intent on hers, he asked softly, "Would you marry me all over again, Annie Walker? Would you say the words in church?"

  But the words echoing in her mind weren't the vows they'd exchanged in a dingy room in Baker's Gap. She'd heard them in her kitchen. I'm what you need, Annie—I can be as mean and ornery as they are. And I've never been a coward. Anything I've ever said I'd do, I've done.

  "Hap Walker, I love you more than my life," she whispered back. "You make me proud to be your wife."

  "Is that a yes?"

  For an answer, she stepped into his embrace and raised her face to his. As her lips touched his, she murmured, "Yes."

  His arms tightened around her shoulders, drawing her closer. "Cora's finding you a dress," he whispered against her lips. "And the preacher's waiting for the word."

  "Do you, Horace, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health?" the chaplain asked.

  "I do." Hap's voice was strong, ringing out through the small chapel.

  "Will you love and cherish, honor and keep her, forsaking all others, so long as you both shall live?"

  "I will."

  "And do you, Anne, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health?"

  "I do," Annie whispered. Then, clearing the ache from her throat, she managed to repeat more loudly, "I do."

  "Will you love and cherish, honor and obey him, forsaking all others, so long as you both shall live?"

  "I will."

  "Do you have the ring?" the chaplain asked Hap. Seeing that he did, he directed him, "Place it on the third finger of her left hand and repeat the words I say."

  Sliding his father's ring from her hand, Hap palmed it, then replaced it with a beaded circle of gold. "With this ring I thee wed...."

  His fingers were warm, strong, just like the man. As Annie looked up at the softly curling brown hair, the bright blue eyes, the straight nose, the solid chin, she felt the wonder of her love for him. Out of loss and despair, he'd single-handedly made a new life for her. And within her. Now she had everything to live for.

 

 

 
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