By the time she went to bed that night, it was as if she’d never been away. She was a prisoner again, albeit a willing one this time, and as she cradled her son in her arms, she was content for the first time in months.
The next couple of days passed quickly, peacefully. To her surprise, Jenny found herself slipping easily into the Apache life that she had once hated. She found a kind of peace in searching for wood, in drawing water from the river, in cooking over an open fire. Even the jagged cliffs that she had once thought as impenetrable as prison bars no longer distressed her. She no longer viewed them as walls keeping her in, but as a bulwark to keep the rest of the world out.
Resigned to spending the rest of her life with the Indians, she made an honest effort to be friendly with the other women, only now realizing that it had been her own aloofness, and not their dislike, that had kept them from being congenial before.
But it was Cosito who warmed her heart and made each day worthwhile. She could hold him, feed him, play with him to her heart’s content, even though Kayitah had refused to allow her to keep the child in her lodge overnight after the first night, no doubt fearing she might try to run away again.
Jenny didn’t even mind sharing her son with Alope, and that was most surprising of all, but Jenny had no doubt that the Indian woman loved the child as deeply as she did.
To his credit and Jenny’s relief, Kayitah left her alone, though his gaze always sought hers when they were together. Had he always looked at her like that, his dark eyes filled with affection? In four years, she had never noticed the yearning in his eyes when he looked at her, and it occurred to Jenny that much of the unhappiness she had endured in Kayitah’s lodge had been of her own making.
When he asked her to walk with him, she agreed without hesitation. He spoke to her of Cosito, of how proud he was of the child.
“I had never thought to have a son,” Kayitah said, taking her hand in his. “Each day, I thank Usen for my son, and for the woman who gave him life.”
Jenny gazed into the Apache’s eyes, not knowing what to say.
“I know you were unhappy here before,” Kayitah said. “I will try to make it more pleasant for you now.” He paused, gazing down at their joined hands. “I will not force you to my bed,” he promised, his voice low, “but I hope, in time, you will come to me of your own accord.”
Jenny looked at his bowed head, unable to believe this was the same arrogant man who had forced himself upon her.
He raised his gaze to hers, his expression pensive, hopeful.
“Perhaps, in time,” Jenny replied, and knew that the day would come when she would go willingly into this man’s arms. Ryder had awakened her to passion, and though she knew she would never love Kayitah or any other man as she had loved Fallon, she realized that, given time, she might learn to care for the man who had fathered her child, to tolerate his touch, not because she loved him but because she so wanted to be loved.
Kayitah smiled then, and she realized for the first time that he was quite a handsome man.
“Come,” he said, his hand squeezing hers, “let us go and see if our son is awake.”
Hand in hand, they walked back to the village. And for the first time in months, Jenny felt she might have a chance for happiness after all.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Fallon sat atop a craggy bluff, his gaze scanning the valley. He had no trouble finding Jenny. Her hair stood out like sunshine on a cloudy day, making it easy to follow her as she moved through the village.
He’d been watching her for four days now, and his nerves were strung out from tension and lack of sleep. He rested only moments at a time, afraid to relax completely for fear of being taken unawares by one of the scouts who patrolled the area. He’d been lucky so far, but he knew it couldn’t last.
Sitting there, he’d tried to think of some way to enter the village unseen, grab Jenny and the kid, and get away without anyone being the wiser.
So far, he hadn’t been able to think of a thing.
It was near dark when two white men rode into the village. The man on the right led a pack horse laden with boxes that Fallon guessed contained rifles and trade goods.
Ryder cursed under his breath as he leaned forward, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him in the fading light, because the man on the left looked remarkably like Hank Braedon.
Fallon frowned, remembering something Red had said about Charlie Braedon, something about a rumor that he’d gotten his start selling guns to the Apache.
Fallon watched as Kayitah came forward to greet the two white men, clasping the hand of the man Fallon believed to be Charlie Braedon. It was obvious from the smiles on the faces of the two men that they’d known each other a long time.
Fallon shook his head, remembering how well armed the Indians who had attacked Terry’s column had been. No doubt Charlie Braedon had sold the Apaches the rifles they had used that day. And probably the rifles they’d used to attack Jenny’s stage as well.
Jenny stared past Kayitah to the two men who had followed him into her lodge, wondering how Hank had found her. She glanced briefly at the second man and knew immediately that it had to be Hank’s brother, Charlie. They looked enough alike to be twins even though they’d been born several years apart.
“Prepare food,” Kayitah said. He gestured for his visitors to sit down, then offered them his pipe.
Charlie Braedon took the pipe and smoked it, then passed it to Hank, who stared at it, a blank look on his face.
“Smoke it,” Charlie urged in English. “Old Kayitah here will be offended if you refuse.”
Hank nodded, took a short puff, coughed once and passed the pipe back to Kayitah. He watched Jenny move around the lodge while Charlie and the Indian talked. This was the man who had defiled Jenny, who had planted his seed in her belly. His hand fairly itched to grab his gun and blast the heathen redskin between the eyes. Instead, he sat quietly, hoping that Charlie knew what the hell he was doing and didn’t get them both killed.
Jenny served Kayitah first, then offered food to Hank and Charlie before resuming her seat in the back of the lodge, her mind whirling.
Hank ate without tasting a thing, his gaze riveted on Jenny and the dark-haired baby nestled in her arms. She’d told him about the kid. It hadn’t seemed real then, but it was real enough now.
He’d wired Charlie soon after Fallon left town, telling him that Jenny had run off and that he thought she’d gone back to the Apaches. Charlie had arrived on the next stage.
Hank had never really believed they had a chance to find Jenny, but when he’d mentioned Kayitah’s name to Charlie, Charlie had laughed and said not to worry. He knew where Kayitah was holed up. And now they were here, in the midst of an Apache camp, and Charlie was talking Apache gibberish and smiling at the chief as if they were the best of friends.
After dinner, Kayitah showed Hank and Charlie to another lodge where they would spend the night.
“It’s no good,” Charlie said when they were alone. “I offered him money. I offered him guns and ammunition, but it’s no go. He won’t trade for Jenny.”
“Damn. What are we gonna do now?”
“How bad do you want her, little brother?”
“I want her.”
“Why? She’s no good to you in bed. Hell, she ran away from you to come back here.”
“I want her, Charlie. She’s my wife and…and I love her.”
Charlie nodded. “Then we’ll just have to take her.”
“Take her? How?”
“Tonight, when everyone’s asleep, we’ll grab her and make a run for it. It’ll be risky as hell, but with a little luck, we’ll make it.” Charlie grinned. “I’ve got some new repeating rifles that’ll give us plenty of firepower.”
Hank stared down at his hands, wondering why he wasn’t afraid. From the time they were kids, it had always been Charlie who was ready to try something new while Hank had hung back. But he wasn’t afraid now.
Surpri
singly, he was looking forward to a fight. He might not be able to make love to his wife, he thought bitterly, but he could fight for her.
“Well?” Charlie said.
“Let’s do it!”
“All right!” Charlie slapped Hank on the shoulder in a gesture of brotherly affection. “Let’s get some rest.”
But they were too keyed up to sleep and they spent the next couple of hours talking about the past and then the present, with Charlie bringing Hank up to date on his business dealings in Texas, and Hank telling Charlie about the store.
For a time, they were silent, and then Charlie cleared his throat.
“Did you ever find a doctor who could help you with your problem?”
“No.”
“And your wife never complained that you couldn’t…that you couldn’t?”
“No.”
“So that’s not the reason she left you?”
“She came after the baby.”
Charlie grunted. “Are you planning to take the kid with us?”
Hank nodded. “I don’t think she’ll go without him.”
“It’s gonna make things more difficult.”
“I know, but I can’t leave her here. She said she hated it here, hated him.”
“Kayitah?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s not a bad sort as long as you don’t cross him.”
Hank stared at his brother in amazement. “Not a bad sort! He kidnapped my wife, Charlie. Kidnapped her and raped her and gave her a bastard child.”
It was three hours after midnight when Hank and Charlie slipped out of the lodge and saddled their horses, which were tethered near the doorway. Armed with new Winchester repeating rifles, they glided silently through the night until they reached Jenny’s lodge.
“Hurry,” Charlie whispered, and followed Hank into the lodge.
Kneeling beside Jenny, Hank placed one hand over her mouth, then softly called her name.
She woke with a start to find Hank bending over her. “Hurry. We’re getting out of here.”
“No!”
“Dammit, Jenny, I don’t have time to argue. We’re leaving.”
“I can’t! Alope has Cosito in her lodge.”
“What?”
“Kayitah won’t let me keep him here. He’s afraid I’ll try to run away.”
“We don’t have time to argue about this,” Charlie hissed. He dropped his hand over Jenny’s mouth. “If you cry out, Kayitah will string us up by the short hairs, if you get my drift. But you’ll die before we do, because sure as I’m gonna burn in hell, I’ll slit your throat if you so much as make a whimper. You understand me?”
Jenny nodded. Throwing back the blanket, she pulled on her moccasins and followed Hank outside. He lifted her onto the back of his horse, took the reins and began walking toward the head of the valley. Charlie followed behind.
Jenny’s heart was beating a wild tattoo. Of all nights for Kayitah to stay in Alope’s lodge, why did it have to be this one? She didn’t want to leave her son, didn’t want to go back to Widow Ridge with Hank. Most of all, she never wanted to see Charlie Braedon again.
As they made their way through the village, she kept waiting for one of the sentries to shout a warning, but nothing happened. The night was dark, the moon shrouded in drifting layers of clouds. A faint wind rustled the leaves of the trees, muffling the sound of hoofbeats.
And then all hell broke loose.
She heard the sentry at the mouth of the canyon demand their identity. There was a gunshot as the sentry materialized out of the darkness, and hard on the heels of the gunshot she heard a shout, and then another gunshot as Charlie fired at the second sentry and missed.
Charlie yelled, “Get the hell out of here,” as he swung onto the back of his horse.
Before the words were out of his mouth, Hank had vaulted up behind Jenny and was kicking the horse into a run.
It was like a bad dream from which she couldn’t awake. There were more gunshots. She heard the hiss of an arrow, heard Charlie curse as he was knocked off his horse.
Hank hesitated when he saw his brother fall, and Jenny screamed at him, fear rising up to choke her as she glanced over her shoulder and saw a half dozen mounted warriors racing toward them.
The moon broke through the clouds and she recognized Kayitah riding at the head of the warriors. He was naked save for his clout, and his eyes seemed to pierce the darkness like twin flames. She could feel the heat of his gaze and she drummed her heels into the horse’s flanks, breathed a sigh of relief as the animal surged forward.
Moments later, she heard Hank cry out in pain, felt him slump in the saddle behind her.
“Hank, hold on!” she cried, but it was too late.
She felt his grip on her waist grow slack, and then he tumbled over the horse’s rump.
She tried to haul back on the reins, but the horse took the bit in its teeth and bolted, frightened by the sporadic gunfire and the scent of blood.
Jenny sawed on the reins, trying in vain to turn the horse’s head, to go back to her son. She screamed as a man mounted on a big buckskin materialized before her, emerging out of the shadows of the night like a ghostly centaur.
Leaning toward her, he grabbed her horse’s reins and then they were racing down the narrow passageway and into the desert.
It was a nightmare, a hideous ordeal over which she had no control, a familiar scene that had been played once before.
“Hang on, Jenny girl.”
His voice reached out to her through the darkness, dissolving her fears, making her heart pound, not with terror but relief. He was not a specter of death, but an angel come to deliver her.
Legs clamped around the horse’s sides, she held on to the horse’s mane and prayed that the animal wouldn’t step in a hole, that they wouldn’t be followed, that Hank was all right.
On and on they went, riding as if all the hounds of hell were at their heels. She could feel her horse’s labored breaths, feel the heat of its body.
Finally, when she thought they would go on forever, Ryder found a place to spend what was left of the night.
She was too weary to ask questions. Wordlessly, she sank down on the blanket Ryder spread for her and closed her eyes. She tried to fight the tears that burned in her eyes, but she didn’t have the strength. Hank had come to save her and in so doing, he had only made things worse. He was probably dead, and his brother with him, and she knew she’d never find the courage to go back to Kayitah, not after tonight. He would never trust her again.
“Jenny…”
“What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
Fallon shrugged. “It didn’t take much of a genius to figure this was where you’d gone when you left Widow Ridge.”
“Oh Ryder, Hank’s ruined everything.”
“He just wanted you back, Jenny girl. I can’t blame him for that.”
“He just made everything worse, and now he’s probably dead, and I’ll never see my son again.”
Fallon drew Jenny into his arms as great sobs racked her body. He didn’t care if Charlie Braedon was dead, didn’t care if Hank suffered hours of pain and torment at the hands of Kayitah’s warriors. All he cared about was Jenny. She was safe in his arms and he didn’t intend to ever let her go.
“It’ll be all right, Jenny girl.” He stroked her hair, his hands gentle and caring. “Kayitah will take good care of your son, and Alope will love him as her own. As for Charlie Braedon, he’s been selling guns to the Apache for years. As far as I’m concerned, he got what he deserved.”
Removing the kerchief from his neck, Ryder wiped the tears from Jenny’s face.
“I’m sorry about your husband,” he said quietly. “It sounds like life dealt him a bad hand.”
“He was a good man, Ryder. Kind and gentle. Not like Charlie.”
She shuddered as she recalled the look in Charlie’s eye when he warned her to keep silent. “I never met Charlie before, but I could tell that he was me
an clear through.”
Ryder nodded. “I knew him by reputation, and it was a bad one.”
Jenny sniffed, suddenly conscious of Ryder’s hand moving in her hair, of the fact that she was sitting in his lap. His breath was warm against her cheek, and she thought how good it was to be held in his arms. She felt safe there, comforted somehow.
Her eyelids were heavy, so heavy. She closed them for a moment and rested her head against Fallon’s shoulder. She was tired. It hurt to think that Hank might be dead, to know that she would never see her son again…
Fallon’s hand stilled in Jenny’s hair as he felt her relax against him. Soon, the even rise and fall of her chest told him she was asleep.
He held her for a long time, breathing in her scent, reluctant to let her go.
Jenny woke with the dawn to find Ryder sitting beside her, a rifle resting on his bent knees.
“You’re here,” she murmured. “I thought it was a dream.” She sat up, pressing a hand to her back. “Hank was shot. Charlie too. Do you think they’re dead?”
“I hope so.”
Jenny stared at Fallon, shocked by his response, and then she realized what he was saying. If Hank and Charlie survived their wounds, the Apaches would surely torture them to death, especially if Kayitah suspected their only reason for being in camp was to kidnap his wife and child.
“We should be going,” Fallon said.
Rising, he helped Jenny to her feet. For a moment, he held her close, and then he went to saddle the horses. He didn’t think Kayitah would come after them. After all, the man had his pride, but it wasn’t a chance Fallon was willing to take.
Jenny stood behind him, watching as he smoothed a blanket over the back of his big buckskin, swung the saddle in place, and tightened the cinch. “Where are we going?”
“Does it matter?” he asked as he began saddling her mount.
“No.”
He glanced over his shoulder to find Jenny staring at him. “What?”
“Why did you come after me?”
His dark-blue eyes gazed deep into her own. “Don’t you know?”
Apache Runaway Page 19