The kind of love he wanted was considerably stronger than the kind that shattered over a simple kiss. True, he could imagine how it must have looked to her, but she hadn’t even asked him for an explanation, nor given him a chance to volunteer one. She’d jumped to her own conclusions and wasn’t interested in hearing his side of the story.
If her feelings could die so easily, then she wasn’t the kind of woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The sooner they parted company, the better.
The next day Chee came. It was the first time he’d come since Matt had awakened. Matt hadn’t been told about Alope and Klea yet, so Chee told him.
From Angela’s place by the fire, where she tended a pot of stew, she saw Matt’s stricken look when he heard the news. Her heart twisted painfully. She didn’t consider that Matt had known the two women since childhood, that he and Alope had been playmates until they reached the age when strict Apache custom forbade the mingling of the sexes. She didn’t consider that he might simply feel it was a tragic loss of lives, a terrible, horrible, avoidable tragedy. She only saw the brief flash of pain across his face, which he quickly concealed.
“What about Tahnito?” Matt asked.
“He’s dead, too.”
“Dead? How? What happened?”
Chee uttered a harsh bark of laughter. “He got what was coming to him.”
“How’s that?”
“When he realized his mother and sister were dead, he turned back to you, but by then Shanta and I were picking you up to carry you here. Tahnito saw his chance was lost to finish you off while you were still out of it, so he ran into the woods. Some boys found him this morning, dead.”
“But how’d he die?”
“He met up with one of your guardians.”
“What?” Matt was stunned.
“Shash. We found tracks. The bear followed him more than a mile before it attacked. Tore him up pretty bad, then broke his neck.”
Matt shuddered. “Good God, that poor bastard.”
“I hope those words are for the bear,” Chee said sharply. “You can’t possibly have any sympathy for the man. He had every chance that he didn’t give you. He left you wounded, trapped beneath that rock, alone. He came back to camp and said nothing. He even denied knowing where you were. The stinking maint'é had it coming!”
“Maybe so,” Matt said with a shake of his head. “Still—”
“Still nothing. Don’t trouble yourself about him. I said he had every chance, but he didn’t even try. He wanted to die, after killing his own mother and sister.”
“That was an accident. It was terrible, but it was still an accident. No man wants to die.”
“He must have. He didn’t even draw his knife. It was still sheathed.”
Matt ran a hand over his face and shuddered again. “Good God,” he whispered.
Chee left a short time later, and Matt slept.
His recovery over the next few days was slower than it should have been. His mind wasn’t on recovering, it was on Angela. As long as he lay in bed, she stayed near him. She’d erected a wall of ice around her, and he was curious as to why. If she didn’t care for him at all, there should be no need to hide her feelings from him. When she fed him Huera’s broth or tended his wounds, which healed much too quickly for his purposes, her touch was gentle, even tender. Her face, however, was another matter entirely. She held it rigid, letting no expression cross it at all. What could she possibly have to hide from him, except that she really did care about him?
Hellfire! What did he care how she felt anyway? If she’d loved him even just a little, she would have let him explain about Alope. She might even have gone so far as to demand an explanation.
And so it went, back and forth. One minute he cursed her for her lack of faith, for not loving him, the next he was convinced she still cared. What he needed, he realized, was an excuse to keep her from leaving him long enough for him to better judge what her true feelings were.
Why he wanted to bother with someone who treated him with such icy politeness, he had no idea.
Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He’d told himself she was too shallow, she’d tricked him into loving her, then threw it back in his face. But the fact was, he did love her, and there didn’t seem to be anything he could do about it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Matt purposely stretched out his role of invalid. As long as he was unable to get around, Angela stayed with him. She brought him food and water and carefully tended his wounds. The way the blood drained from her face whenever an incautious movement caused him to wince told him a great deal about her feelings. Much more than she would have wished, he was sure, had she realized what she was revealing to him.
In spite of everything she said, or didn’t say, Matt became convinced she still cared for him. All he had to do was get her to admit it to him and to herself. But no matter what he did or said, Angela refused to discuss their personal situation. Sometimes she simply refused to answer his questions. At other times, when he tried to get her to talk about how she felt, she left the wickiup.
Since he was supposed to be so gravely ill, he couldn’t get up and follow her, which put him at a distinct disadvantage.
Matt finally determined that his present course of action was getting him nowhere. He needed more time with her, but not when he was flat on his back. He wanted to take her home, to the Triple C. If he could find a way to keep her there for a while, maybe he could convince her they belonged together. Maybe he could somehow teach her to trust him again, since lack of trust seemed to be the heart of her problem.
Now that he’d decided to quit playing sick and take Angela home, Matt discovered a new trouble. Lying around doing nothing for over a week had sapped his energy. He lost patience with himself and everyone around him several times during the few days it took him to regain his strength, but the day finally arrived when they could leave.
Matt had already said his good-byes to Hal-Say and Huera and his friends. Huera suggested they leave their wickiup standing where it was, so it would be there the next time they came to visit. Angela had cringed at that, but she held her tongue. Matt had been cool as a cucumber when he’d agreed to that bit of nonsense.
And nonsense it was. They wouldn’t be coming back. At least, she wouldn’t.
A lump of sadness surprised her by lodging in her throat. She’d made friends here, despite her short stay and the language barrier. Friends. Huera and Nod-ah-Sti and Cochise’s wives. Even Chee. Friends she would never see again. It was ridiculous to realize that this good-bye was nearly as painful as the ones with Mary Lou and Jennilee in Memphis.
Since Angela had nothing of her own to pack, and Matt had taken care of his own belongings, there was nothing left to do but leave. Matt had told her to wait for him, and now he had returned leading two saddled horses and a pack horse. The pinto was his and the gray pack horse didn’t worry her. But the brown one…She began to panic.
“What’s that?” she asked stupidly.
“I believe they’re called horses,” Matt answered with a mocking smile.
“I-I can see that. But what’s the brown one for? Where did it come from?”
“It’s Pace’s, and it’s not brown. She’s a chestnut. Pace left her here for you to ride home. Unless, of course, you’d rather walk. Now come on, let’s go.”
Angela swallowed. He actually expected her to ride! The only times she’d ever been on a horse in her life were when she’d ridden double with Matt or Chee. She’d never been on one by herself and didn’t have the slightest idea what she to do. Before she could confess her lack, Matt tossed her into the saddle and mounted his own horse.
Angela sat perfectly still, trying to get used to the idea of being perched on the back of the huge brown animal. Excuse me, she thought with disgust, chestnut.
She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but she hadn’t expected to be able to feel every flick of muscle, every breath in and out of the deep lungs, every blink of th
e horse’s eyes. When the horse snorted, Angela grabbed the saddle horn with both hands. When it—no, when she—shuffled her feet, Angela swayed dangerously and held on for dear life.
She might have been all right then, but she tried to put her foot in the stirrup. She missed. She didn’t fall off, due to the death-like grip she had on the saddle horn, but it was a very near thing, and she cried out in alarm.
“Now what?” Matt demanded.
Angela took one look at his stormy face and swallowed her words. She knew he’d intended on leaving at first light, and it was well past that now. It wasn’t her fault that her friend Nod-ah-Sti came this morning for a last visit. It wasn’t her fault that Huera made Matt wait while she presented Angela with a new pair of knee-high moccasins, or kabuns, to replace her worn slippers. It wasn’t her fault that Cochise came personally to bid her good-bye, delaying them yet again.
To give Matt credit, he’d borne the delays fairly well, considering he couldn’t wait to get rid of her. But one more delay would fix things for sure. And now she had to tell him she didn’t know how to ride a horse. If he didn’t murder her right on the spot it would be a miracle. Just as she opened her mouth, three more men came to bid them farewell. At least this time it was Matt they wanted to talk to.
Chee laughed to himself as he watched Matt grit his teeth at another delay. Natzili-Chee, son of the great warrior Natzili, did not speak three languages fluently and understand the American and the Mexican cultures nearly as well as he understood his own because he was stupid. As soon as he’d seen the look on Angela’s face when she realized she was expected to ride, he knew what was wrong.
He also knew Bear Killer was in no mood to deal calmly with the situation, so Chee had sent this latest group of young men to divert Matt’s attention while he gave Angela brief tips on how to control her mount. It was no substitute for real instruction or experience, but he hoped it was enough to get her by until she grew used to the idea of riding.
Matt glared in their direction. “Are you two finished? Can we go now?”
Chee grinned back at him, the picture of innocence. “Of course. Have a good trip. See you next spring.” To Angela he said, “Come back to us, Eyes Like Summer Leaves. Your next visit will be better, I promise.”
“Chee.” Angela grasped his hand and squeezed tightly. This man had saved her life and been her friend. She would miss him. “Thank you for everything, Chee. I wish there was some way I could repay you for what you did for me.”
“You can,” Chee answered for her ears alone. “Be good to my friend. I don’t know what’s happened between the two of you, but I know he loves you, and he needs you, no matter what you may think. Go now.” He released her hand and turned to Matt and said, “May we live and see each other again, my friend.”
Matt’s mood lightened. He smiled at Chee and repeated the words of the formal parting phrase of friends. This parting, however, was easier for Matt than others had been. In the past, he’d always worried about the raiding and the killing. Each time, he’d wondered if his adopted family and his friend would be alive the next time he came.
But all of that was over now. Now there was peace.
Once they were out of the stronghold and on the trail, Matt’s mood seemed to improve, although he didn’t talk. It was just as well as far as Angela was concerned. She was concentrating so hard on staying in the saddle she didn’t have any thought left over for conversation. Thank God Matt kept the pace to a walk. Luckily her horse just followed the other two. But the unaccustomed position of sitting astride, as well as the constant swaying in the saddle, kept her mind and body fully occupied.
Most of the time she stared at the line on her mount’s neck where the mane fell to one side. Once in a while, when she felt particularly brave and confident, she raised her eyes to stare between the two upright ears. Scrub oak, stunted juniper, and strange rock formations passed in and out of her view. So did Matt.
At least he was wearing clothes again, but that didn’t do much for her peace of mind. The buckskin pants and brown cotton shirt fit him like a kid glove, contouring each and every muscle, leaving only the color of his skin to the imagination, and Angela already knew every subtle shade of it.
Slowly, unconsciously, her body picked up the rhythm of the horse. Riding became easier, less fearful. She began to notice things, like a covey of quail darting away at their approach, the deep, clear blue of the sky, the buzz of the horsefly tormenting the pack horse in front of her.
Matt led them out of the woods and into a narrow canyon surrounded by sheer rock walls. The mouth of the canyon widened gradually until it poured out into a broad, flat valley, so broad it seemed to go on forever, except for the jagged line of mountains to the east.
When they reached the valley floor they turned north until they came to a pass, then followed it west through the same mountains they had just left. The grass grew so tall in places that it tickled the horses’ bellies. When they left the pass, they followed a runoff stream out into another broad valley. Along the stream, the grass gave way to rocky ground, more scrub oak, and cottonwoods.
They stopped in a small grove of willows for a short rest in the early afternoon, and Angela watched to see how Matt dismounted. Copying his motions, she managed it without too much difficulty, except that it was farther to the ground than she’d thought. If she hadn’t been holding onto the saddle so tightly, she would have fallen.
She nearly fell anyway. Her legs and buttocks were numb, her back and arms ached miserably, and her inner thighs had been rubbed raw. She gritted her teeth and forced her legs to move.
The rest of the afternoon was a repeat of the morning, and they still hadn’t reached those distant mountains. By the time they stopped for the night Angela was trembling from head to toe with fatigue. Matt tended the animals and set up the camp while she sat in a stupor, too tired even to lay down and sleep.
The first thing she was really aware of was the smell of food when Matt handed her a plate of biscuits and beans. She had no idea where it came from and didn’t take the time to ask. She’d just realized she was starving!
The food revived her somewhat, so when they finished eating, she took the tin plates the few yards to the stream and washed them. She had just finished and taken one step back toward camp when she heard a tremendous crashing in the trees to her right, followed by a loud snort. She was paralyzed for one brief instant, just long enough for the moonlight to show her the huge, furry outline of a bear coming straight for her.
Angela screamed for all she was worth.
Then suddenly Matt was there, wrapping his strong warm arms around her, telling her everything was all right. She struggled against him, trying to free herself.
“Bear! It’s a bear, Matt! A bear!”
“Ssh, ssh. It’s okay, Angel. He won’t hurt you. See? He’s leaving now. It’s okay.”
Angela was shaking so hard she knew she’d fall if Matt let go of her. But he didn’t let go. He picked her up and carried her back to camp, talking softly to her the whole time. He sat beside the fire and held her until she stopped trembling.
Matt was sorry she’d had such a fright, but he wasn’t sorry at all to be holding her. He silently thanked the bear for chasing her into his arms. It had been so long since he’d held her. For the past week he thought he might never get the chance again. And if he didn’t come up with a very good reason why she couldn’t leave him, this might very well be the last time.
His arms tightened at the thought of losing her. He couldn’t stand it. It couldn’t happen. He’d think of something—he had to.
Angela’s thoughts weren’t too far from his. The terror slowly slipped from her mind to be replaced by the feeling of security provided by Matt’s arms. She closed her eyes against the pain of their parting she knew would take place in just a day or two.
But she’d made up her mind. She would stand firm in her decision. She couldn’t live with a man she didn’t trust, even if she did love him.
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When Angela woke the next morning, not one single muscle in her entire body would move. Even her eyelids refused to open. But the smell of coffee was a strong lure, so she forced herself to sit up. She gasped involuntarily at the sharp, screeching protest of each separate joint and muscle. She’d never felt such pain in her life.
She raised her eyes to gage the distance to the coffee pot—she’d never needed coffee like she needed it now—only to find Matt sitting cross-legged before the fire, laughing at her.
“Good morning.”
His cheerfulness grated on her nerves. “Go away,” she mumbled.
Matt laughed again, then rose and came toward her. “Lie back down and I’ll see if I can’t loosen up some of those muscles.”
Angela watched him warily. She didn’t trust that gleam in his eye. “My muscles are just fine. Leave me alone.”
“Come on. You just spent an entire day astride a horse for the first time in your life. You’re stiff as a board.”
He pushed her back and rolled her face-down on the blanket and started rubbing her neck and shoulders. Oh, God, but it felt heavenly. She could feel herself loosening up almost immediately. What would it be like to stay with him, to be the recipient of his tender care each day?
But how many others would he lavish the same care on?
“How did you know I’d never ridden before? Was I that bad?”
“No,” Matt said with a laugh. “You did very well, as a matter of fact. Most women would have been screaming their heads off and crying to stop after the first mile. Why didn’t you?”
“In the mood you were in? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I see your point. It didn’t help any, though, that you wouldn’t tell me you’d never ridden before.”
“How did you know I hadn’t?” God, but his hands felt good.
Matt worked his way down an arm and was now massaging her stiff fingers. “I can always tell when you’re doing something for the first time,” he said quietly.
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