Daniella could see how sincerely Dee-O-Det believed his own words. She glanced at Cochise and saw that he, too, believed. Perhaps this was her way out. “If what you say is true, and my child—children—are so special, then I am right to come and leave them with you. Surely the Chúk’ánéné do not want the children of Yúúsń to be raised by a white woman. I will stay among the Chúk’ánéné until the birth, and leave the children with you.”
The shaman started shaking his head before she’d even finished. “It cannot be. All will be lost if Woman of Magic does not raise her own children. It is your magic that will make them special. The boy and girl will grow to be an important link between your people and ours in years to come.”
Great! Now I’m supposed to give in and agree to raise half-breed twins because of the old man’s superstition. If it really is twins.
“Yúúsń does not make mistakes. Surely Woman of Magic is not so cold and unfeeling as to cast aside her own flesh and blood, the way the rancher she called ‘father’ cast her aside. Surely she is not such a monster.”
Daniella flinched as though she’d been slapped. She battled the tears that formed in her eyes and fought the memories that flooded her mind. Memories of her father’s total rejection of her.
Oh, God! Am I like him? Willing to throw away my own children because of some sort of stupid, misplaced pride? Because I fear what others might say about me?
No! She was not like Howard Blackwood! She wouldn’t be!
At that precise moment she felt a feather light stroke on her abdomen. She gasped. It was from the inside! The child—or children—in her womb moved gently beneath her breast, and she knew, as if from a voice inside her heart, that she couldn’t abandon her own flesh and blood. Dear Lord, she couldn’t.
Travis looked over her head at Dee-O-Det for some kind of sign. He had it an instant later when the old man smiled and nodded at him.
“Dani?” Travis said softly. He turned her by the shoulder and placed his hand beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him. Her pale blue eyes swam with tears she tried to blink away.
“Marry me, Dani,” he said in English.
She stared at him blankly for a moment, then stepped away with a gasp. “Just because I may have changed my mind about giving up my child doesn’t mean I’ll marry you. I can’t marry you, Travis.”
“Why not? I’m willing.” He looked deeply into eyes the color of the morning sky. Oh yes—he was definitely willing.
“I can’t be your wife, Travis. I can’t be any man’s wife,” she cried.
“If you’re talking about what happened the night of the fiesta, forget it. We’ll work it out.”
“What do you mean, work it out? How can we work out something like that? Getting married isn’t going to magically make my fears go away, or my nightmares.”
“We just take things one step at a time, Dani. I’ve got a hold of your arm right now, and you haven’t even batted an eye. When we first met, you’d have panicked and probably shot me if I had grabbed you like this. It just takes time, that’s all.” He eased his grip and massaged her arm with his fingers. “I’ll give you all the time you need, I promise. I won’t push you to do anything you’re not ready for. I want you. Sometimes I want you so much I ache. But I’d never try to force you, you know that. I might try to persuade you,” he said with a crooked grin. “But I’ll never force you. Let’s just get married and let everything else work itself out.”
Daniella searched his face intently, trying to reason out why he was doing this. Then she remembered his words. There’s not a thing in the world I wouldn’t do for you.
“Travis, look,” she said. “I know you think you owe me something for helping you get Matt back. But whatever you may have owed me you more than paid back when I got shot. I can’t let you do this out of gratitude. It wouldn’t be fair. It’s all too one-sided.”
“Why is it one-sided?”
“Because I get everything! I get a husband, a protector, a beautiful home full of loving people, and a name and a father for my child. You get nothing.”
“Nothing? Oh, no. I’ll tell you what I get. I get a beautiful woman to grace my home, a friend to talk with, a wife and the child she carries, a mother for my son, a lover some day, and maybe even more children. What man could ask for more?”
Daniella couldn’t believe he was actually saying these things. It would be so easy to give in, to say yes, to marry him. She found herself wanting it so much it hurt. But she had to make him realize it would never work. She shook her head.
“I’ll tell you what you really get,” she said. “You get a wife who’s looked on as a whore by nearly every white man in the territory. A wife who either paces the floor all night or wakes the whole house with her screams. A wife who’s afraid to let you touch her. In a few months, you get a half-breed Apache bastard—maybe two—who’ll grow up calling you ‘Daddy.’“
“Like I said before, I’m willing. Anyway, you really don’t have much choice, do you?”
Daniella swallowed hard. It was tempting. So tempting. It would be so easy to stop fighting him, stop fighting herself, and just give in. So tempting. To go home with him to the Triple C, to all those friendly people…
She swallowed again. “I think you’ve forgotten something.”
“What’s that?”
“Carmen.”
“What about her?”
“That’s my question.”
A smile played about the corners of his mouth. “Jealous?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. “I can see certain advantages to the situation, from your point of view. A wife who can’t…you know, and a mistress who not only can, but will. What I can’t see is why you’d want to bother with me at all. Why not just marry Carmen?”
Travis’s smile grew until he laughed outright. He ran a knuckle across her cheek, sending hot shivers down her spine. Then he sobered. “Whatever there once was between Carmen and me ended months ago, Dani. Before Matt and I left for New Orleans last fall.”
“I think someone forgot to tell Carmen that.”
Travis shrugged. “It’s not that I haven’t told her—more than once—it’s just that she doesn’t listen.”
Daniella dropped her gaze from his deep brown eyes. So far he hadn’t said anything to reassure her where Carmen was concerned.
“Look at me, Dani.” He waited until she did. “I know you saw me with her the morning after the fiesta, but—”
“It doesn’t matter, Travis,” she lied, shaking her head.
“It does matter, if it makes you think I care about her. For the record, I wasn’t the one doing the kissing, she was. She draped herself all over me, clung to me, and no—before you ask—I didn’t like it.”
Curious, Daniella asked, “You don’t like women who cling to you?”
He grinned slightly. “Not when my mind is on someone a little more independent.”
“Never mind.” What had made her ask that, anyway? She shook her head and looked away. “It doesn’t matter who was kissing whom. Even if I was your wife in name only, I wouldn’t want to share my husband with another woman. That’s not exactly fair, and I know it. But that’s the way I would feel.”
With a cupped hand, Travis turned her head back around and smiled. “I’m glad you’d feel that way. You might have to share me with my son, my father, and the ranch, but believe me, not with Carmen or any other woman. The only reason she’s even still around is because she doesn’t have anyplace to go. She sent out letters a few weeks ago to try to locate relatives. As soon as she hears from them she’ll be gone. Until then, I can’t see myself just kicking her out.”
Daniella studied his earnest expression. Did she dare trust him in this? Was it true he didn’t care for Carmen, that she’d be leaving soon?
“Travis, I—”
“¡Basta!” Cochise cried. “Enough! Habla español. Do you accept his offer?”
“I…” She looked from Cochise to Travis. What s
hould she do? Was it wrong to want something so much? Would Travis be able to rid himself of Carmen and rid Daniella of her fears? Did she want him to? Or would he end up hating her? “I…”
“She does,” Travis said firmly.
“Bueno.” Cochise nodded.
Dee-O-Det let out the breath he’d been holding and allowed a smile to spread across his wrinkled old face. “Taeh! Gutál nt’aa,” he shouted. “There is to be a ceremony. Tonight at the central camp fire Woman of Magic will be joined to Yellow Hair Colton. Nzhú. It is good.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Daniella lowered herself to a fallen tree trunk, then heaved a sigh. Normally she enjoyed the quiet, fragrant peacefulness of the forest. Today she didn’t even notice it. Instead of breathing deeply of the pine scented air or listening to the light breeze that sounded like a roar in the needled tops of the pines or watching the dappled sunlight make varied patterns on the ground, she stared blankly at a shiny-backed beetle making its way across the mountains and valleys of decaying leaves and needles near her foot.
She needed this time alone in the forest to come to terms with what she was about to do.
Coward, she thought. Tell him. Tell them all you can’t marry him. But she knew she wouldn’t. She’d keep her mouth shut and go through with it, then pray for a miracle. It would take at least a miracle to keep Travis from growing to hate her, and to keep her from running off screaming into the night when he grew tired of being patient.
But Travis had been right that day at El Valle when he said she would need help when her time came. It would be doubly true if Dee-O-Det was right and she did carry twins.
That was the practical reason for marrying him. She had other reasons, less practical, more emotional. Reasons she was afraid to examine.
So for now she would go along with everyone else’s wishes.
She would marry Travis and live at the Triple C. After the birth, when she was more able to cope, well, by then he’d probably be only too glad to see the last of her. She could go home to Tucker and Simon.
Lord, she was tired. She shouldn’t have ridden so hard to get the boys home. The poor babe in her womb was probably regretting being placed in a woman who had no care for its comfort.
Daniella straightened abruptly. It was the first time she’d thought of the child with anything other than scorn.
My child.
She still wasn’t overjoyed at the prospect. She didn’t share Dee-O-Det’s belief. She knew exactly how she’d gotten this way, and it wasn’t from any damn bolt of lightning. But maybe if she concentrated on Dee-O-Det’s story, she could at least keep herself from hating her own flesh and blood.
God, help me.
Behind her a twig snapped. She slumped. Someone was coming. Probably Travis. She wasn’t going to be given enough time to sort things out in her mind.
She braced her hands against the log, but before she could rise, a hand came around her head and clamped itself over her mouth. In the brief glance she got, she knew instantly it was not Travis’s hand. It was much too dark, and it was scarred. She closed her eyes and shivered as she pictured that scar. It was in the shape of a bite mark. A human bite mark. Hers.
In an instant she was thrust back in time, back to that night. Dark hands throwing her to the ground. Dark hands tearing at her clothes. A dark hand covering her mouth. She could still taste the blood as she remembered sinking her teeth into that hand with all the strength her jaws could command.
That memory triggered a fear so strong it threatened to rob her of her sanity. When she began to struggle, a deep voice hissed Spanish words in her ear.
“Be still, and I will not harm you. Struggle, and you will die, very slowly.”
She nodded her head slightly that she understood, and the hand came away from her mouth. Her attacker stepped over the log she was seated on and turned on her. A violent trembling seized her when Loco faced her. He was one of them, from that night last winter. She could never forget that big lumpy nose and those small beady eyes. His thin lips twisted in a grimace of hatred. Quicker than a snake, his hand flashed out and struck her across the face.
She clutched the log desperately with one hand to keep from falling over backwards. The other hand flew to her throbbing cheek. When she steadied herself, she felt her lip carefully and her fingers came away with a smear of blood. Loco stood glaring at her with black eyes full of hatred.
Her fear fell away as an avalanche of anger rolled over her. She pushed herself up and faced him boldly, fully realizing he could kill her at any moment. That thought, too, made her angry. That she was at the mercy of this bastard only fueled the fire in her blood.
“Why has no one cut off your nose?” Loco demanded. “That is what our people do to whores!”
“You dare to call me names, you bastard? Why have you followed me? What do you want?”
“I want what you stole from me.”
“I’ve stolen nothing from you. Now get out of my way.” Daniella made as if to brush him aside and walk away.
Loco grabbed her by the hair. A knife magically appeared in his free hand. She stumbled and fell, and he yanked her up by her hair. In addition to the pain in her scalp, the sudden movement caused a wrenching pain deep in her abdomen. She screamed.
Loco ignored her. “After that night we took you, my wife left me. You know that.” He gave her hair another painful tug. “She took my son and daughter and all her belongings and left me because of you. She made me the laughing stock of this band. It is all your fault.”
He tugged her closer. So close his breath nearly gagged her. “I thought you could replace her,” he said, practically growling in her face. “I offered for you, and what did you do? You threw my offer back in my face! You laughed at me! You chose a white man over me! Again I am laughed at—because of you!” There was a feral gleam in his eyes. His lips drew back in a grimace.
Was it her imagination, or were his teeth really pointed like a wolf’s?
He thrust his scarred hand before her eyes. “You left your mark on me. Now I will leave mine on you. You will pay for what you have done to me.”
In the face of his threat, Daniella’s anger fled and her fear rose rapidly. The knife, held in his scarred hand, flashed before her eyes. Her knees buckled. He held her off the ground by her hair.
Just when she expected to feel the cold steel cut into her nose, she was jerked sideways, and his hand released her hair. She fell to the ground in a haze of pain and fear. She tried to scramble away, but was halted by the log. She lay on her side, her back against the log, and gaped in astonishment as Travis and Loco circled each other warily.
She blinked, and over the roaring in her ears she heard voices and shouts through the trees. Cochise and Dee-O-Det stood to one side of the small clearing, with Golthlay behind them. It looked like everyone who’d been witness to the marriage offers was coming to circle the clearing.
Her attention swung back to the two before her just as Loco lunged and swung his knife in an arc, barely missing Travis’s ribs as Travis jumped back.
“This is not your concern, white man,” the Apache warned, his breathing already heavy. Both men stood crouched, arms outstretched.
It was then Daniella realized Travis was unarmed. His hands were empty!
“The bitch is mine to deal with,” Loco warned. “If you interfere, you will die.”
“She is mine! You’re the one who will die for touching her.” As he spoke, Travis reached a hand toward Hal-Say. The man who had adopted Matt passed him a knife.
Daniella bit back a cry of alarm. She couldn’t distract Travis now, but she was terrified! She’d heard stories of Loco’s fighting skills. He was invincible in battle. Her eyes pleaded with Cochise. He shook his head and motioned for her to keep quiet. Daniella swallowed nervously and tasted fear. Not for herself, but for Travis. Dear God! Somebody stop this!
Travis didn’t take his eyes from his opponent when he asked, “Are you all right, Dani?”
“Travis, don’t do this! He’ll kill you!” she cried.
Loco lunged for Travis again and missed.
Travis’s knife flashed out. A streak of blood appeared on Loco’s arm. Travis smiled grimly. “Does that mean you care, Dani?” he asked without looking at her.
Fear clogged her throat and prevented her from answering when Loco leaped into the air toward Travis. She struggled to sit up as the two men rolled on the ground, each fighting to gain the upper hand. More blood appeared, this time on both men, as knives flashed and each man grunted with the effort of his struggle.
When he regained his feet, Travis knew he was up against a skilled opponent. He had no energy to waste on useless emotions―regret over not imprisoning Dani in his home when he’d had her there, fear for her safety during the last few days, and murderous rage at this son-of-a-bitch who’d threatened her.
Travis had seen Dani walk off alone and decided to give her some time to herself. Her whole world was spinning out of control. He didn’t blame her for being bitter and upset, even frightened.
He’d worked his way toward the edge of camp, intending to wait for her. Cochise and the old shaman stuck to him like ticks on a hound, saying he wasn’t allowed to be alone with her until after the ceremony.
Then he’d heard her scream. When he’d rushed through the woods and found her with a knife in her face he’d nearly died on the spot with fear. An instant later he was swept with the most violent rage he’d ever known.
Travis knew Loco was one of the men who had raped Dani. That knowledge shone deep within the black eyes that glared their hatred at him as the two men again circled each other. A moment later Loco taunted him with it.
“She had no right to choose you, white man. Even if you’ve already had her in your blankets, I had her first.”
Travis knew what the bastard was doing. He was trying to rile him into making a stupid move, into rushing him. But even knowing that, it took all his willpower to let the words slide away and concentrate on the business at hand.
Apache-Colton Series Page 24