Travis had chosen this particular place to camp because of the small pool at the edge of the stream, just beyond a thick screen of brush. He and Matt decided to take a swim to cool off.
“Dad, is Daniella sick or something?”
They were nearing the pond when Matt spoke, and Travis eyed his son sharply. “Not that I know of, son. Why do you ask?”
“She sure sleeps a lot, doesn’t she?”
“Not really.” He thought of Daniella’s sleepless nights, the dark circles beneath her eyes, and wondered how much to reveal to his young son. Some inner sense warned him it would be useless to lie; Matt probably knew a great deal about her already. Travis measured his words carefully when he spoke.
“Daniella was taken captive by the Apaches, just like you were. You know that. She has bad dreams about it at night, so she sleeps during the day so the nightmares won’t bother her.”
Matt’s eyes grew large. The blood drained from his face.
“What is it, Matt?” Travis asked anxiously.
“I-I didn’t know she was captured. I only knew Cochise adopted her. I don’t want her to die, Dad!” he cried. “I like her. She’s fun and nice. You like her too, I can tell. I don’t want her to die! Don’t let her die, Dad!” Matt threw himself at Travis’s chest and buried his face against his father’s shoulder.
“Hush, son…hush. She’s not going to die,” Travis murmured in an attempt to soothe the boy. “Why would you think a thing like that?”
Matt trembled in his father’s arms. “The o-others d-did,” he whispered.
Travis felt his blood turn cold. “What others?”
“The other l-ladies—white ladies.” Matt looked up at his father with his thousand-year-old eyes. “I saw, Dad,” the boy cried. “I saw what they did to the white ladies. They did that to Daniella, too, didn’t they? All the other ladies died. Don’t let her die, Dad,” he pleaded.
Dear God, Travis thought. He swallowed with difficulty and hugged Matt to him. To know for certain that his son had been exposed to such brutality, and at such a tender age, was almost more than he could bear. Daniella had been right—the Apaches don’t shield the children. What could he say to Matt to make the horror of what he’d seen go away?
What would Daniella have him say? After all, it was her they were talking about. There was no point in denying anything, since Matt was sharp enough to have already figured out as much as he had. Travis took a deep breath to steady himself.
“Listen to me.” He pushed his son gently away and held him at arm’s length. “Daniella is not going to die. What happened to her happened months ago, and she survived. She’s the Woman of Magic. Nothing is going to happen to her.”
Matt thought about it. Huera said Woman of Magic was big medicine. And Daniella had survived, then was adopted by Cochise. Surely the shaman had mixed up one of his mysterious potions to protect her.
Most important of all, Matt’s father said nothing was going to happen to her. His father never lied.
He nodded decisively. “Okay, Dad.” With a lightning-swift change of mood peculiar to the young, Matt grinned. Nodding toward the pond, he challenged, “Last one in’s a rotten egg!”
Travis sighed, relieved that his son’s worries were so easily put to rest. They raced to get their clothes off, but Matt had a definite advantage. He only needed to pull off his moccasins and untie the string holding up his breech cloth.
They jumped into the cool water and swam, and played, and scrubbed, and played some more. Travis took great delight in having his son by his side again, and swore to himself he would never let any more harm come to this boy who was so precious to him. And he would find some way to repay Daniella for this miracle of happiness.
It had been dark for quite a while before Travis reluctantly allowed Matt to wake Daniella. He and Matt had managed to snare a couple of jackrabbits near the pond at sundown, and Travis had taken his time skinning and cleaning them. He wanted to let Daniella get as much sleep as possible. He would have just let her sleep all night, but he’d promised to wake her. If he didn’t, he feared she would blame him if she had another nightmare.
Snaring those rabbits had been a stroke of luck. Travis had been reluctant to fire his rifle to bring down game for their supper for two reasons. The first was in case Golthlay had grown impatient and decided to follow them. Firing off a gun would have been like inviting him to dinner. The smell of roasting meat and the glow of their fire would also alert anyone around to their presence. He was anxious to get the meal over with so he could douse the fire, just in case.
His second reason for not wanting to fire his gun was that it would wake Daniella.
Matt’s method of waking her was to tickle her ear with a blade of grass. He accomplished his goal when she woke up laughing, with Matt’s devilish grin beaming at her from above.
The aroma of roasting rabbit drifted to her on the light breeze, and Daniella suddenly realized she was starving. She saw Travis turning the meat over the fire and laughed again.
“I should have let Matt at you sooner,” Travis said softly. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh.”
The look in his eyes aroused that fluttery feeling in her stomach again, as it had on previous occasions. She turned away, confused. “Well, it isn’t every day a girl gets awakened from a sound sleep by a young man tickling her ear.” She smiled at Matt.
“Get up, Daniella. Dad’s almost got supper ready. We caught a couple of rabbits.” He beamed proudly.
“Rabbits, huh? I can’t wait. They smell delicious.”
It was their first hot meal since leaving the rancheria, and they did it justice.
For the past three days, conversation had been almost nil.
Tahza’s mood had been grim in his determination to get them out of the mountains as swiftly as possible. Now that it was just the three of them, tensions seemed to ease. Matt was the perfect buffer between Daniella and Travis.
But once he started talking, it was hard to get him to stop. He asked his father a million questions. He wanted to know everything that had been happening at home. How many new foals and calves were there? Had Grandad missed him? Had that mean old rooster ended up in the stewpot yet? Had Travis heard how Grandfather White in New Orleans was? Did they have any new neighbors, who maybe had kids his age?
When Matt found out Daniella was their new neighbor, he was ecstatic, even if she didn’t have any children.
Travis allowed the fire to die out. “No point in taking chances. It’s warm enough since we left the mountains, and there’s a full moon tonight.”
But Matt wasn’t interested in the moon. “How come you don’t have any kids? I thought all grownups had kids.”
“Matt, it’s none of your business,” Travis said. “You’re not supposed to ask questions like that.”
“Don’t scold him, Travis. He just wants somebody his own age to be with. Actually, Matt, the reason is, I’m not really a grownup at all,” she teased. “I’m just a kid, like you.”
“Ah,” Matt scoffed. “I bet you’re pullin’ my leg. How old are you?”
“Matt, you’re doing it again,” Travis warned. “A gentleman never asks a lady how old she is.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right, Matt,” Daniella offered. “I don’t mind. I’m nineteen.”
“Nineteen! I told ya you were pullin’ my leg. Nineteen’s old!”
Travis threw his hands in the air. “I give up. See what happens when you indulge him like that?”
Daniella laughed at him. “Don’t worry about it. He’s right, anyway. Nineteen is old.”
“Yeah, ancient.” Travis’s lips curled up at the corners.
At least she wasn’t as young as he’d thought, but she was still much too young for him. What does it matter how old she is? She doesn’t want anything to do with me anyway.
“I’ve decided you need a shorter name,” Matt announced to Daniella.
“You don’t l
ike my name?”
“Oh, it’s okay. But my name’s Matthew, and everybody calls me Matt. So instead of Daniella, we oughta call you Dani. How’s that?” Matt waited anxiously for her approval. After a moment, the bright moonlight revealed a slow smile curving her lips.
“It’s a lot better than what my family calls me,” she said with a laugh.
“And what does your family call you?” Travis wanted to know.
“Oh, no. I’m not about to put that weapon in your hands,” she objected. “I hate the nickname they gave me, and you’d probably use it just to make me angry. Just forget it.”
Travis and Matt badgered her to tell them, teasing and making outrageously funny threats against her, but she refused to reveal the information. They put forth several guesses of their own, and she laughed until she had a stitch in her side at the ridiculous names they threw at her.
As the laughter died down, Travis sent Matt to his bedroll and the camp quieted. In a few minutes, Matt scrambled back up and ran over and whispered something in his father’s ear.
“No, a fella never gets too old for that, Matt,” Travis answered.
Daniella cocked a brow at the two of them, but they only smiled at her. A few minutes later, Matt spoke again from his bedroll.
“Dani?” His voice was almost a whisper.
“Hmmm?”
“Would you…um…” Matt looked to his father for reassurance, and Travis nodded his encouragement. “Would you kiss me good night?”
“Why, Matthew Colton, I thought you’d never ask. I’d be honored,” she said as she closed the distance between them. She knelt down beside him and he reached his arms up to her. They hugged each other, and she smoothed the tousled golden curls back from his face and placed a tender kiss on each cheek. For once, she wasn’t thinking of how much he resembled his father. She saw only a child, thought of the man he would soon become, and felt a terrible emptiness deep inside herself.
“Good night, Dani.”
“Good night, Matt. Sweet dreams.”
When she turned toward her own bedroll, Travis caught the glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. He had been about to ask if she would kiss him good night too, but sensed she was not in the mood for jokes. Only he wouldn’t have been joking; he wanted her to kiss him. But he knew she didn’t feel the same.
“Daniella?” he asked with concern.
Daniella turned her back to him and shook her head, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. When she felt more composed, she sat down and poured herself another cup of coffee. She could hear Matt’s even breathing and hoped his sleep would always come so easily.
“You’re very good with children,” Travis said softly.
Her throat constricted. “Thank you.”
“You should have several of your own.”
Daniella took a deep breath and let it out slowly to still the ache inside. “I love children,” she answered. “I always said I’d have a dozen.” The ache in her chest grew stronger.
“A dozen? Then you better start pretty soon, hadn’t you? I mean, you’re not getting any younger, grandma,” he teased.
“That was a cruel thing to say.” Her aching and bitterness swelled up to turn her voice to ice.
“Cruel? Hey…I was only joking. You can’t be that sensitive about your age. You’re only nineteen, for Christ’s sake.”
“What has my age got to do with anything?” Her lower lip quivered and her eyes misted over. “It’s cruel for you to tease me about something I want very much and will never have.”
“Never have? I don’t understand.”
“Don’t understand? Are you so thick-headed that you can’t understand I would prefer to have a husband before I have children, Mister Colton? And even if I could stand the thought of letting a man touch me, how many men—decent men—do you know who would marry a woman after half the Chiricahua men of the entire Apache nation have taken turns on her?”
Travis leaped across the dying fire and jerked her to her feet. “That’s the first stupid thing I’ve heard you say.” His breathing was heavy. She shrank away from the glare in his eyes.
“Stupid, is it? The Apaches might call me Woman of Magic, but do you know what white men think of me?” She, too, was breathing heavily. All her anger, her pain, her frustration came boiling out. Her voice sizzled and hissed with her ire.
“They think I’m an Apache whore! I see it in their eyes.”
She took an angry swipe at her damp eyes. “Do you know why I wanted you to come on this trip with me? I could have just gone and got Matt and brought him home to you without having to convince you of anything. It would have been a lot easier on both of us. I knew the Apaches wouldn’t harm me. But I wanted you along in case we ran into any white men. Isn’t that crazy? The Apaches ruin me, nearly kill me, but they honor and respect me. It’s the white men who scorn me. It’s crazy! It’s backwards and all upside down! I think I’m crazy!” She struggled frantically to free herself from his iron grasp.
“Be still!” Travis ordered. “I’m going to tell you some things, lady. Things you should have figured out for yourself by now, but you’ve been too busy feeling sorry for yourself.”
“Sorry for myself!” she shrieked. How dare he say such a thing to her!
“Yes. Sorry for yourself. Maybe you have more reason to than most people, but I say you place too much importance on what happened to you. You’re letting it control you. You need to let go of it, Daniella, put it behind you, in the past, where it belongs.”
“So you’re the expert now, are you?” she yelled back at him. “I suppose you’re going to tell me just how to do it, too!”
“You bet I am. You can start by getting rid of that chip on your shoulder.”
“Of all the—”
“And then maybe you should stop reminding yourself and everyone you meet about what happened.”
“I don’t have to remind anyone of anything. All anybody has to do is take one look at this!” She grabbed a handful of white hair in her fist. “That’s reminder enough!”
Travis went on, ignoring her outburst. “You might also try working on getting over this fear you have of being touched. Even with a husband, something like that can make it a little difficult to have children. You did say you wanted children.”
“When’s the last time somebody told you to drop dead?”
“There you go again,” he said, releasing her shoulders. “You’ve got that chip on your shoulder. Why can’t you just admit I’m right?”
“Because you’re not right!” she cried. “I don’t let it control me, anymore than I let myself get captured in the first place. I can’t help what comes into my mind when I close my eyes at night. I can’t help this streak in my hair or the scars on my body. I can’t help it if a man’s touch reminds me of what happened and scares me half out of my wits!” She was crying now, and didn’t try to stop. “I don’t want to be afraid. It just happens, and I can’t stop it!”
Her tears tore him apart. He reached out a hand toward her. When she backed away from him in fright, he swore under his breath. “After all that’s happened in the past week, you’re still afraid of me, aren’t you? You went to sleep one night holding my hand. Another night, you slept in my arms. I guess both of those times there was something you feared more than you feared me. I don’t want to be the lesser of two fears, Daniella. You know I won’t hurt you. Why can’t you let yourself trust me? You need me right now at least as much as you did those other times.”
Daniella trembled and stared at his outstretched hand. How could she tell him that she did trust him, but that the very idea terrified her? She was afraid of the things he made her feel.
She was afraid to feel the warmth and safety of his arms, because she knew it was only temporary. When this trip was over, they would go their separate ways. What good would it do her to lean on his strength again tonight, when a lifetime of loneliness stretched out before her? What good, except to remind her of what she would miss.
But oh, God, she wanted to reach out to him, feel his hand in hers, feel his arms around her. He was right―she knew he wouldn’t hurt her, not physically. It was her heart she worried about now. How was it possible to need someone so much, so soon? She barely knew him. People don’t fall in love that fast. But she was afraid, so very afraid that was exactly what was happening to her. And she couldn’t let it happen. Couldn’t let it!
“No,” she sobbed. She turned away from him and buried her face in her hands. “Just leave me alone.”
He came closer. So close she could feel the heat from his body. His breath stirred her hair, and his warm hands gently cupped her shoulders. “Oh, Daniella, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I said I’d never hurt you, but I have, haven’t I? I only wanted to make you see you don’t have to fight all the time. You don’t have to be afraid, or alone.”
The long fingers on her shoulders flexed, sending warmth and weakness clear to her knees.
“You don’t have to do any of those things with me,” Travis added. “I won’t push you any more, but if you want to lean on me awhile, I’m here. Just please don’t cry anymore. I can’t stand to see you cry.”
She would have been all right, she told herself, if he just hadn’t apologized. If he hadn’t gone all tender and caring on her. If he hadn’t sounded so sincere. If his voice hadn’t turned all rough and husky.
Her resolve crumbled, leaving her raw and exposed to the night. With a cry of defeat, she turned and fell into his arms. “Damn you, T-Travis Colton,” she sobbed against his chest. “Damn you to hell for making me need you.” She pounded ineffectually against him and cried bitterly, great racking sobs that clogged her nose and throat and soaked his shirt.
Travis crushed her to his chest and held on to her desperately. Damn you, too, he thought with resignation, for making me want you so much. The scary part was, his wanting was much more than just physical. He’d never felt this way about a woman before. His past affairs, even his marriage, had been strictly for convenience. His convenience. There had been no great emotional attachments. He’d never felt this need to hold and soothe and protect a woman, as he did now.
Apache-Colton Series Page 14