As much as Jess said he wanted to use the ledge to watch for Tanner’s men and learn how many, if any, were following and how near they were, Gabe saw that he was failing. His face was flushed and his eyes unnaturally bright.
He lay on his stomach, his head on his arms for a moment, breathing slow and deep, as if trying to find his strength. She lay on the ground beside him, her heart breaking.
As he lifted his head and scanned the landscape, she reached her hand out and touched his cheek. It was frighteningly warm.
"I’m be all right, Gabe. Don’t worry."
She laced his fingers in hers. "I do worry about you."
"I know." He kissed her fingertips. "Someday you’ll have a man you won’t never have to worry about." He lay his head down once again on his arms, using them as a pillow. His eyelids flickered shut and in a little while he was asleep. She couldn’t let him die, but the hopelessness was overwhelming as she looked out at the lonely desert around her. Even if Tanner’s men weren’t hunting them, she didn’t know how they would find help in time.
She watched over the valley as McLowry slept. She would protect him, save him--and make Tanner pay for Jess’s agony as well as her own. Her heart filled as she looked at him, as she remembered last night in his arms, and she thought for the hundredth time that day, how much she loved him.
The sun sank lower in the sky and all was quiet. Her eyelids kept closing and she’d jerk herself awake as best she could.
A movement on the far side of the valley caught her attention.
She stared, shock and fear making it impossible for her to move. Red and Slim were almost in the middle of the same valley she and McLowry had crossed less than two hours earlier. She must have fallen asleep without even realizing it. They were here...so close...searching for her and McLowry.
She touched his wrist and immediately, he awoke. She pointed toward the valley.
He followed her line of vision. "Did you see any others?" he whispered.
"No."
"We’d better assume they’re nearby, and that if they hear gunfire, they’ll come running. We’re going to have to stop these two, then run for it."
Gabe shuddered, knowing that to run after killing Red and Slim would use up McLowry’s remaining strength--if he had enough to run at all.
Red and Slim reached the thin ribbon of water in the center of the valley and stopped to refresh themselves and their horses.
A high-pitched war whoop shattered the silence. Five Apache warriors, armed and on horseback, bore down on the two men. Red fired a shot, but before he got the second one off, he was hit.
Slim leaped onto his horse, but it hadn’t gone five steps before he, too, was shot and fell to the ground.
The warriors were upon the men in an instant. One grabbed Red’s flame-colored hair and his knife sliced across Red’s forehead before McLowry clamped his hand over Gabe’s eyes.
Her body quaked. The five Indians descending on the two men brought back memories of Tanner and his men on her father’s ranch.
McLowry moved closer to her, holding her head against his chest, trying to stop the fearful trembling that came over her.
"We’re all right up here for now, Gabe, but if the Apaches are bold enough to attack in the open like that, there must be a lot more nearby," he said. "We’ve got to get away. It might be safer to take our chances with whoever’s left of Tanner’s band, and try to make it back to Dry Springs, than to go any deeper into Apache territory."
Thank God, Gabe thought. "We can make it, Jess. I know we can."
He gave her a quick, hard kiss. "I’m going to watch those warriors. We need to know which way they’re headed. I want you to go to the horses. Keep them quiet and walk them back into those rocks as far as you can. When the Apaches leave, I’ll join you. It’ll be night soon, and when it’s dark, we’re going to cross back through the valley to the other side of the mountain range."
She nodded.
"Go on now."
She kissed his face, his flushed color giving her heart a pang, then crawled backwards from the ledge until she was out of sight enough to crouch over and run to the horses. She had almost reached them when she skidded to a halt.
An Apache stood beside the horses, his rifle pointed at her heart. Behind him, rifles poised, three others watched.
Chapter 20
Gabe stared into the cold, black eyes of the Indian who stood in front of the others. She’d never seen anything so frightening. Even being bound and brought to face Cramer hadn’t caused the pure, stark terror she felt now.
The Apache had long, heavy black hair held by a brow band of red and black twisted rags. He wore a long, brown shirt, bound with a low-slung belt, tan, baggy trousers, and a loincloth that reached nearly to his knees. He wasn’t much taller than Gabe, but his shoulders were broad, his chest powerful. From a nearly square face, his eyes flashed at her with a hatred that thickened the air she breathed.
He stepped toward her. On shaking legs, she stepped back. He took another step.
Talk, she told herself, buy time. She extended her hands, palms up, toward him. "Don’t shoot, please."
His eyes mocked her.
"We don’t want to fight you." Her words poured out and she could only hope he understood. "Those men--the two who were killed--were our enemies. Your...your friends killed them. You helped us. Thank you."
A flicker of surprise crossed the Apache’s face for an instant, but then it hardened once more. Gabe tried to stand her ground, but her legs began to shake. As his grip tightened on his gun, all rational thought left her. "No!" she screamed and turned to run to McLowry.
McLowry had heard the voices and crept to the area where Gabe confronted the Apaches. Behind a boulder, his Peacemaker ready, he’d watched helplessly. With four rifles pointed at Gabe, there was nothing he could safely do to rescue her.
As soon as she turned to run, the Apache, smirking, lifted his rifle and peered into the sight.
"Don’t try it!" McLowry stepped out from the boulder, holding his gun at the brave.
The Apache glanced at his friends, then back. The expression on the Indian’s face told McLowry he was a dead man. If they started shooting, he might take out one or two, but it’d be a miracle for him to make it to safety. At best, he could hold them long enough for Gabe to get away.
"Get out of here, Gabe. Now!"
But her footsteps had stopped. It was too late. One of the Apaches shifted his rifle barrel to a spot to McLowry’s left. It was aimed at Gabe. She didn’t dare move.
The leader of the group pointed at McLowry’s gun, then the ground. McLowry could fight them, and it’d be a quick death for him and Gabe. Or, he could drop his gun, and they might still die after a slow, painful torture. Or, somehow, survive. If it were just his life in the balance, he’d fight now. But could he do that to Gabe? Could he deprive her of a chance to escape and live?
He dropped the gun.
The Apache gestured toward the horses.
McLowry turned to Gabe and she ran to his side. He put his arms around her in a tight, bone-crushing hug, knowing full well it might be the last time he’d ever hold her. They glanced at each other, then walked to their horses and mounted. Unless they could find some way to escape, riding away from this spot would be a temporary reprieve, at best. McLowry expected that his life would be over soon, but his veins ran cold over what they might do to Gabe.
The Apaches got on their ponies. The leader waited until all were quiet before he spoke. "I am Nahtuyah of the Chiricahua Apache. Black Cloud is our chief."
McLowry had heard of Black Cloud. He was blood brother to the hated Victorio, the leader of a murderous renegade band. What little hope McLowry had, now dimmed.
He glanced at Gabe. She looked numb with fear.
They rode deeper into the rugged granite mountains. The landscape softened, and along with harsh and spindly scrub and cactus, they began to see chaparral, even an occasional shrub oak. After about an hour, the fiv
e braves who had killed Slim and Red joined them, Red’s scalp prominently dangling from one brave’s belt. A couple of hours after that, the band reached a small Apache camp.
Sullen-faced men and women stood silently in front of wickiups, rounded brush or canvas-covered buildings constructed on a base of thin tree limbs. There were no more than forty adults in the settlement, and half were women.
The braves rode tall and proud, eager to show off their fresh scalps and their prisoners. It was a good sign for the small band.
The warriors led McLowry and Gabe straight to a thatched wickiup larger than the others. They were made to dismount as Nahtuyah went inside.
Gabe watched as women slowly circled them, inch by inch coming closer. She backed up against McLowry, feeling ever more closed in. Even though he gripped her arm, she couldn’t stop the quaking of her body.
A brave approached, reached out for her and pulled her away from McLowry. Another took her arm and dragged her away toward a small canvas-covered wickiup. She could have screamed and fought, but she knew it would do no good. Instead, she held her head high and walked proudly. One brave lifted the blanket that covered the entrance to the wickiup and the one who held her tossed her into it, to land sprawling on the ground. She calmly rose to her knees, knowing there wasn’t room to stand, then sat back on her heels. She slapped the dust from her hands, and squared her shoulders.
A brave stepped into the wickiup behind her, folded his arms and sat in front of the opening, staring at her. They were alone. He wore a blue bandanna twisted like a turban, his black hair hanging down his back. His shirt was gray cloth, but only a breechcloth covered his legs. He looked more like a rock blocking her path than a person.
Gabe scooted against the hide walls of the wickiup, as far from him as she could get.
She glanced at the opening, expecting McLowry to enter, but he didn’t. They’d been separated, and now she was alone.
The wickiup was empty except for a bed of straw with a blanket on top of it. In the very center was a fire pit. The canvas cover directly above it was open to release smoke.
During the ride here, McLowry had told her to say little and never act afraid. He vowed he would get them out of this. She clung to his words like a talisman. I’ll do what he said, she whispered over and over, and he’ll lead us to safety. She was determined to show no fear, but when she faced the fearsome warrior before her, she realized how hard that would be.
Over an hour passed before a woman came to the wickiup and spoke to the guard. He grabbed Gabe’s arm, pulled her out of the hut and through the camp. As she ran and stumbled, trying to keep up with him, women and children jeered and spit at her. Some of the younger children threw rocks that stung as they hit her face and arms. A heavy rock hit her between her shoulder blades and she nearly fell. When they reached the largest wickiup, the brave furled back the flap for her to enter.
It was filled with people. McLowry was there, and she could have cried with relief. She went to his side and sat, he took her hand, holding it so hard he nearly crushed it. She squared her shoulders and faced the crowd. Nahtuyah sat on the side with a group of other men, but all eyes were turned toward the back of the hut.
A small man with a flat face, his skin baked hard and shiny, sat against the back wall, puffing on a brown-stained corncob pipe. Around gray hair that hung past his shoulders he wore a thick red brow band that looked like cloth from a cowhand’s neckerchief. He also wore a white man’s tattered green plaid shirt and blue denim trousers. Gabe knew he was Black Cloud.
She raised her eyes to meet his shining black ones, but they bored through her as if she didn’t exist and fixed on McLowry.
"What are you called?" the chief asked.
"Jess McLowry."
"You are a scout?"
"I’m a ranch hand."
Black Cloud glanced at his warriors, then back to McLowry with a smirk. "Where?"
"I’m looking for work," McLowry said.
Black Cloud laughed, then translated for those unable to understand the white man’s words. His smile disappeared when he faced McLowry again. "You lie, or you are very much lost. This is Apache land. No ranches here."
McLowry eyed the warriors, all giving fierce, threatening looks. He didn’t reply.
Black Cloud peered long at Gabe, then back at McLowry. "Is this your woman?"
"Yes."
"A very foolish woman to let her man become lost when looking for work." The chief laughed again, and the others joined him, even those who clearly hadn’t understood his words. Gabe bit her tongue against any retort.
"We did not come to these mountains by choice," McLowry said, his voice even, his words slow and measured. "We came to escape an enemy who wanted to kill my woman. We only ask to continue our journey."
Gabe could see a look of interest flicker across Black Cloud’s face. Nahtuyah leaned over and spoke to him. Then Black Cloud sat back, one hand on his knee as he puffed on his pipe.
"Why does this man want to kill a woman?"
"He was angry that she sought him."
"Why did she?"
"He killed her family. She seeks revenge."
Black Cloud looked at Gabe with curiosity. "Is she not afraid to go after a man?"
"She is brave. She didn’t go after one man, but five."
Black Cloud pointed the stem of his pipe at her. "Did you get revenge on this enemy?"
"Three are dead," she said, lifting an eyebrow. Then she couldn’t stop herself from adding, "So far."
Black Cloud gawked at her, then his face widened into a smile at the implication of her words. "You seem to think you will have another chance to go after them. Yet, you are my prisoner."
"We’ve done nothing to hurt you, so we believe you will let us go."
"My people also did nothing, but your soldiers killed them, and drove them away from the land of their fathers."
She met his gaze straight on. "Surely, you can see I am no soldier."
His eyes seemed to grow even blacker. "Your woman has a sharp tongue," he said to McLowry. "We could remove it from her."
McLowry eyes flashed a warning at Gabe. "Her sharp tongue keeps my days interesting...and my nights lively."
The chief regarded him with surprise, then chuckled. "Yes. I had such a woman once."
He glanced at his braves, one by one, and then back to McLowry. "I will give you a chance to live. Nahtuyah will challenge you. He will have a knife, and you already have your woman’s sharp tongue. If you win, you and the woman go free. If you lose..." Black Cloud shrugged.
"I’m ready," McLowry replied.
"No!" Gabe scooted forward.
The warriors lunged in her direction, but McLowry caught her arm first and jerked her back to his side. "Don’t say a word!" he warned.
The tent fell quiet. Slowly, cautiously, McLowry let go of her arm. She felt Black Cloud’s scowl to her very toes, but she met his gaze straight on. "This man," she gestured toward McLowry, "is ill."
"Gabe!" McLowry’s voice was low, trying to stop her.
She refused to obey, but looked at Black Cloud, praying he would listen. "McLowry was whipped by a jackal follower of man I seek revenge on, and his wounds have not yet healed. He is weak and feverish. If Nahtuyah fights him, he will have no chance."
Black Cloud turned to McLowry. "What are these wounds she speaks of?"
"They’re nothing. She has no stomach for fighting so she says these things. I will fight Nahtuyah."
"Please, Black Cloud, ask him to show you his back," Gabe pleaded. "And have someone feel his forehead."
Black Cloud’s eyes narrowed as he seemed to size up one then the other. Finally, he nodded and McLowry slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Then he turned his back to Black Cloud and let the garment drop from his shoulders. The warriors murmured among themselves at the sight. One of the braves slapped his hand hard against McLowry’ forehead, then reported to his chief.
"Who is the man who did this to you?" Black Cloud
asked.
McLowry faced him again, rebuttoning his shirt. "His name was Tack Cramer. Cramer is dead now. He belonged to Will Tanner’s gang."
"Tanner! I know him and his men. We have fought. He has killed my people. He is my enemy as well."
McLowry saw a way to elevate Gabe in the Chief’s eyes and perhaps save her life. "My woman pulled a knife on Tanner’s man named Dawes. I helped, and now he is dead. That was how we escaped."
Gabe saw one eyebrow raise in surprise as Black Cloud studied her a long while. "It is good." He glanced back at McLowry. "What price do you take for this woman?"
McLowry couldn’t suppress a grin as he looked at Gabe’s shock. His eyes rested on her as he replied. "She is worth more to me than anything on the earth."
All were silent as Black Cloud tapped the ash from his pipe and refilled it. He lit it and puffed a while, then said, "I will think on this. But your woman is right. You are sick. I will send the di-yin to help you. Go now."
The warrior who had guarded Gabe earlier brought her again to the small wickiup. Before entering she looked back over her shoulder. McLowry wasn’t there.
A warming fire had been lit in the center of the wickiup, and a blanket lay near it. Gabe entered and sat on the blanket, unsure of what to do.
In a little while, a young, pretty woman with silky black hair worn loose and straight, and wearing a long skirt of brown calico, a hip-length red overblouse, and high moccasins with upturned toes, came into the wickiup. She knelt, but stayed far back, giving Gabe a fearful stare as if she expected Gabe to grow horns and spout fire from her nose. She inched closer and held out a small bowl, stretching her arm as much as possible so that she wouldn’t be forced to stand any closer to the white woman. "What is it?" Gabe asked, looking at the yellow, mashed substance.
The woman stared a moment, then drew the bowl back and quickly made a scooping motion with her fingers from the bowl to her mouth. She thrust the bowl forward again. Gabe nodded and tried it. It was a mashed squash-like vegetable, with a sour, cloying taste that might have been helped with generous portions of salt, pepper and sweet butter. Too hungry to be choosy, Gabe ate with her fingers. When she glanced up, the woman had gone.
Dance With A Gunfighter Page 19