When she tried to talk to Chandos, he told her to keep quiet, that he needed to listen in case the others decided to come back. She did as she was told.
Then he told her to get everything packed up and to saddle her horses. They were leaving, and she was delighted. But when she was ready, and had led the horses forward, including his and Trask’s, Chandos seemed to have changed his mind. The fire wasn’t out. In fact, he was banking it to last. Nor had he moved Trask.
Chandos turned and looked at her with such a serious expression that her stomach leaped in apprehension.
“You’re not thinking of—of—you are!” She didn’t know how she fathomed what he was thinking, but she did. “You want me to leave without you, don’t you?”
Taking her hand, he pulled her to the far edge of the clearing. “Don’t upset yourself unnecessarily, lady. I want you to ride out ahead of me is all. Walk the horses slowly south. I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes.”
He was back to calling her lady. And he was dead serious. She couldn’t believe it.
“You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?” she demanded.
“No.”
“Then you’re going to torture him!”
“Woman,” he said, “where’s that calm that had you talking circles around four desperadoes?”
“You’re sending me out where there are Indians and you expect me to be calm? Your shots were probably heard. There’s probably a dozen… a hundred savages swarming around out there right now.”
“Do you really think I’d let you walk into danger?”
He said it so softly she was brought up short.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shamefaced. “It’s just that I’m such a coward.”
“You’re braver than you think, lady. Now go on, and I’ll catch up in a few minutes. I’ve got some things to say to Trask that you shouldn’t hear.”
Chapter 20
BROWN hair, brown eyes, those could belong to anyone, but the missing two fingers identified the man as Dare Trask. Chandos stood in front of his enemy, trying to control himself, trying to keep the memories at bay so they wouldn’t interfere. Dare Trask had raped his mother. He hadn’t killed her, but he had defiled her. He was the last man living who had done so.
Dare Trask was also one of three men who had raped Leaping Wolf’s wife. And it was Trask’s knife that had plunged into the young woman’s belly when he was finished with her— not a clean thrust, but one intended to make her suffer more before she died.
For that alone Trask deserved to die, and for the rest he deserved to die slowly. And he would, today or tomorrow, possibly even the day after. But Chandos wouldn’t be there to see it. Nor did he want to see it. After four years, the desire for vengeance had pretty much gone out of him—except where Wade Smith was concerned. Wade Smith would die by Chandos’s hand. But with Trask, well, it had become a matter of finishing what he had sworn to do. Beyond that, Chandos didn’t care.
Trask wouldn’t know why he was going to die unless Chandos explained. And Chandos wanted Trask to understand everything, to realize that his brutal outrages had caught up with him.
Chandos pulled the gag out of Trask’s mouth, then stepped back several feet and looked up at him. Trask spit at Chandos to show his contempt. There was no fear in the man’s eyes.
“Breed,” Dare rasped. “I know you ain’t gonna kill me. I heard you tell your woman that.”
“You sure that’s what you heard?”
Some of the belligerence went out of Trask. “What the hell do you want? I didn’t touch the goddamn woman. You got no call to—”
“This has nothing to do with the woman, Trask.”
“So Romero was right? Then what’d you use her as an excuse for?”
“Your friends don’t need to know what’s between you and me. They’ll merely think I’m a jealous man, that’s all. They’ll wonder why they never see you again, but” they’ll never know what really happened here.“
“Like hell! They’ll be back, and soon! They ain’t gonna just leave me here.”
Chandos shook his head slowly. “I’ll make you the last wager of your life, Trask. I’ll bet your friends have already seen signs of Indians in the area, and at this very moment they’re riding like hell for the border.”
“Liar,” Trask blustered. “We didn’t see no-you seen signs?”
“I didn’t have to. I know they’re near. We usually travel together. But this time, because of the woman, they’re keeping a distance. Indians frighten her, you see.”
“She travels with you,” Trask pointed out.
Chandos nodded without offering any explanation.
“I know what you’re trying to do, breed,” his adversary said. “Dare Trask don’t frighten that easy. We’re too close to the border for there to be Indians hereabouts anyhow.”
Chandos shrugged. “It’s not something I have to prove to you, Trask. When they find you, you’ll know it. I’m leaving you for them as a gift, you might say.”
“A gift?” Trask shouted, showing the fear he was beginning to feel. “If you want to kill me, do it—or aren’t you man enough?”
But Chandos wouldn’t be goaded, and he was tired of talking to the vermin. “It’s not that I don’t want to kill you, Trask,” he said softly, stepping closer. “Look at me. Look at my eyes. You’ve seen these eyes before, Trask, though they weren’t mine. Or have you raped so many women that you can’t remember the woman I’m referring to?” When Trask gasped, Chandos added coldly, “So you do remember.”
“That was four goddamn years ago!”
“Did you think, because so much time had passed, you had escaped Comanche vengeance? Don’t you know what happened to the others who were with you that day?”
Trask did know. He paled. He had believed it was over, that the savages who had searched out the others had taken their fill of vengeance. Not so.
Trask fought wildly at his bonds, but they were tight. Chandos could smell his fear now, and the eyes that beseeched him were filled with knowledge of his death.
Satisfied, Chandos turned away and mounted his horse. He caught the reins of Trask’s roan and called to Trask, “You know my reason for wanting you dead, Trask. But remember also the young Comanche woman who suffered first your rape and then a cruel, slow death.”
“She was nothing but a goddamn Indian!”
Chandos’s pangs of conscience were silenced by that. “She was a beautiful, gentle woman, a mother whose baby also died that day, and a wife whose husband still mourns her. She had never hurt a soul in her whole life. She was all that was good and kind. And you killed her. So I am giving you to her husband. He wants you, and I don’t.”
Chandos rode away, his mind closed to Trask’s screaming for Chandos to come back and kill him. Chandos heard, instead, the screams of women and children, raped, tortured, slaughtered. They were nearby, just as the warriors were, though he couldn’t see them. But he could feel them watching, and he knew they understood.
After a little while, Chandos caught sight of Courtney in the distance, and the spectres faded away. She banished the past. She was balm for his soul, this sweet innocent woman in the midst of a cruel world.
She had stopped in the middle of a flat plain, and she and her mare were cloaked in a mantle of silver moonlight. He quickened his pace.
As he approached, she burst into tears. Chandos smiled. It wasn’t like her to hold her feelings in, but she had done so tonight, admirably.
She’d been calm and courageous when she needed to be. Now that she was safe, she cried.
He swept her off her horse and onto his, holding her tightly in front of him. She snuggled against him, continuing to cry, and he held her, glad she was crying the fear out of her. When she was done, he gently tilted her face to his and kissed her.
It didn’t take Courtney long to realize that this kiss was entirely intentional. A giddy rush rose up so quickly inside her that she became frightened of it and pushed herself away f
rom Chandos.
She stared up at him breathlessly. His composure sparked her temper.
“You can’t say you meant to shut me up this time.”
“Are you going to ask me why I kissed you?” he said with a sigh.
“I was—”
“Don’t, little cat, because if I tell you, we’re going to end up bedding down right here, and come morning you won’t be the innocent you are now.”
Courtney gasped. “I—I didn’t think you found me—attractive.”
He grunted. There were no words of assurance that he did, no declaration, just a grunt. What the devil did he mean?
“I think you’d better set me back on my horse, Chandos,” she said hesitantly.
“Is that the ”proper‘ thing to do at this point?“
Every fiber of her being wanted to stay right where she was, but his sarcasm got to her. “Yes,” she said primly, “It is.”
She landed in her saddle with a jolt, and barely had time to gather her reins before her horse started following Chandos’s horse.
She was in a veritable daze for the whole ride. Chandos wanted her!
Chapter 21
CHANDOS wanted her! It was her first thought the next morning, when she woke up in the same euphoric daze. But then later, it hit her like a bucket of cold water. The truth was oh, so obvious! What a daydreaming little fool she was. Of course he wanted her. She was the only woman out there, and he was a man. From what she was able to understand, men took whatever was available. It wasn’t that he really wanted her. He had shown his indifference to her from the start. It was only that he was tempted, as men were tempted to lust without really caring for the woman in question.
“You going to kill that blanket, or what?” Courtney swung around. “What?” “You’ve been staring at it as if you meant to murder it.”
“I—oh, I had a bad dream.” “That’s not surprising, all things considered.”
He was hunkered down by the fire, a tin of coffee in his hand. He was shaved and dressed, and was already wearing his wide-brimmed riding hat. He was ready to go, but had apparently let her sleep as long as she wished. How had he known she needed sleep so badly?
“If you’re not in too much of a hurry, would you mind pouring me some coffee?” she asked, getting up “to fold her blanket. And then she realized that she was still wearing the clothes she’d been wearing last night. ”God sakes, I must have been out of my mind,“ she mumbled as she felt the dress, still damp in places.
“Belated shock, probably,” Chandos offered.
“Shock?” Her eyes impaled him. “But you knew! Why didn’t you remind me?”
“I did. You thanked me very much and promptly lay down and went to sleep.”
Courtney looked away. She must have seemed like a fool, going to sleep in wet clothes. And all because Chandos had wanted her for a few moments! How could she have been such an idiot?
“I’ll—have to change,” she said and hurried away.
But that wasn’t the end of it. She had packed so quickly last night that she had unthinkingly stuck her wet clothes in her carpetbag with the others, and now everything was damp.
She glanced at Chandos over her shoulder, then looked back at her bag.
“Chandos, I-I—”
“It can’t be that bad, cateyes.”
She peeked at him again over her shoulder, then said in a rush, “I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing. I—I packed some wet clothes and— and forgot to take them out to dry.”
“Drying will have to wait until tonight. What about those pants? How wet are they?” He came toward her and glanced at the bag.
“They’re not wet. I stuck them in my saddlebag.”
“Well, then they’ll have to do.”
“But I thought—”
“Can’t be helped. Wait. I’ll get you one of my shirts.”
She was amazed. He didn’t seem angry at all. A moment later he tossed her a cream-colored shirt of the softest buckskin she had ever felt. The only problem was that it didn’t button. It laced up the front, and she didn’t have a dry chemise to wear under it.
“Don’t frown, cateyes, because that will have to do. All the rest of my things need washing.”
“I didn’t mean… I would be happy to wash your clothes for you.”
“No,” he replied curtly. “I take care of my own gear.”
Now he was angry. Of all the—oh! Courtney fetched her pants and stalked off into the bushes. Infuriating man. She had only offered to help. You’d think she was angling to be his— wife or something, the way he’d reacted.
Five minutes later, Courtney stomped back to the campsite to pack up her bedroll. Her color was high, the result of temper and self-consciousness. Chandos’s shirt hung well past her hips, so she couldn’t tuck it into her pants. And the laced V, which probably only came halfway down his chest, reached clear to her navel. But the worst was the lacing, made of stiff rawhide that defied tight binding. No matter how hard she pulled, there was still a scandalous half-inch gap.
She kept her back to Chandos, and when she came to the fire for her coffee, she held her hat over her breasts, daring him with a single furious look to say anything. He didn’t. In fact, he did his best not to look at her at all.
Courtney cast about for a subject that would get her mind off her discomfort, and her gaze fell on the extra horse that was tethered with their three.
“Wasn’t that a bit harsh, making that Trask fellow walk all the way back to Kansas?”
The mild rebuke got her more than she bargained for. Chandos fixed her with icy blue eyes, and she had the feeling he was actually on the verge of violence.
“Since you don’t know what he’s guilty of, lady, how can you know what he does or doesn’t deserve?”
“You know for a fact that he’s guilty?”
“Yes.”
“Of what?”
“Rape. Murder. The slaughter of men, women, and children.”
“My God!” Courtney blanched. “If you knew all that, why didn’t you kill him outright?”
Saying nothing, he stood up and moved away toward the horses.
“I’m sorry!” she called after him. Had he heard?
God sakes, she was always saying she was sorry for something. Why didn’t she just keep her mouth shut in the first place?
She would put Dare Trask out of her mind. He ought to’ve been drawn and quartered, as civilized countries had practiced for terrible crimes. But she wouldn’t think of it again.
She doused the small fire with the remaining coffee and then went to her horse, which Chandos had been nice enough to saddle for her. She quickly pulled her hairbrush through her hair, which was a mass of tangles, though clean.
Chandos came up behind her as she was working on a particularly difficult knot. “Since you think I have a talent for such things, I could cut that off for you.” There was a strong trace of humor in his voice, and he added, “How many scalps was I supposed to have taken? I can’t remember.”
Courtney swung around. He was grinning at her. How quickly he got over a bad mood!
She remembered everything else she’d said about him last night, and she felt her cheeks heating up. “How long were you out there listening?”
“Long enough.”
“I hope you don’t think I believe any of what I said,” she assured him quickly. “It’s just that when they asked me if you were part Indian, I thought I’d better say yes. I wanted to unsettle them. After all, they claimed they’d never seen you, so how would they know you don’t look anything like an Indian?”
“I don’t?” Chandos ventured softly, disturbingly. “You’ve seen so many Indians that you’re qualified to make the distinction?”
Courtney paled. He was teasing her, but she didn’t find it at all amusing.
Slowly, she felt the total seriousness of his manner. “You aren’t part Indian, are you?” she whispered, then imme
diately regretted the question. Anything that farfetched didn’t deserve an answer. He didn’t give one, anyway, only stared at her in that unsettling way he had.
She lowered her eyes. “Forget I asked. If you’re ready to go… ?”
Taking her hand, he slapped into it the leftover meat from last night. “That ought to hold you till lunch.”
“Thank you.” But as he turned away, she asked, “Chandos, do you know what ”bella‘ means?“
The look he fixed on her was intense. “The Mexican call you that?”
“Yes.”
“It means beautiful.”
“Ah.”
Once more Courtney found herself in a state of acute, blushing discomfort.
Chapter 22
“IF you’ve got any more wash, you’d better get it done tonight,” Chandos informed Courtney as soon as they stopped to make camp that evening. “We leave off following the Arkansas tomorrow, and won’t be near water again for at least three days.”
Courtney didn’t have much more to wash, but she did have to air out and dry her whole wardrobe. Chandos quickly finished taking care of his horse and Trask’s, and headed for the river with his wash. He finished that quickly too, before Courtney was even ready to start. When she was done, their campsite looked like the backyard of a boarding house. Clothing was spread out over every available bush and tree and rock.
Courtney found it humorous that their campsite, smack in the middle of Indian Territory, could look so homey. But it did. It gave her a warm feeling that turned into deep contentment, surprising her. Part of that feeling came from just being close to Chandos, and feeling totally safe because he was there. He hadn’t gone away to hunt tonight, and she was certain it was because he didn’t want to leave her alone. He sensed she wasn’t up to that yet, and she was grateful for his kindness.
So that he would know she appreciated him, she worked hard to make a savory stew out of their dried beef and vegetables, using the few spices she had bought, and loading the stew with fat dumplings. There wasn’t a single bean in it, either.
While Courtney prepared the meal, Chandos leaned back against his saddle and closed his eyes. When she began humming, the tune played over his body and he closed his eyes tighter against it. She was doing it again, working on his senses just when he least expected it. Where Courtney Harte was concerned, he seemed to have no defenses.
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