Authors: Georgina Gentry

Colt (9 page)

BOOK: Colt

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He leaned against the boulder and listened for the sound of hoofbeats. What would he do if he missed her? Let her go back to the Comanche and be damned, he thought, but he wanted his horse back. After a while, he thought he heard the rhythmic pounding of a horse's hooves coming up the trail. He grabbed his mount's muzzle to keep it from nickering a welcome. Now as he peered around the boulders, he could see her coming, a small lean silhouette on a mustang, riding at an easy lope. He waited until she was almost to the boulders, and then he stepped out, pistol in hand. “Halt or I'll shoot!”

Any other woman would have reined in, but this damned feisty girl reined around him, dug her heels in Rascal's sides, and went around Colt, leaving him standing in the dust looking after her.

“Damn you!” Colt mounted up and took after her. “Stop or I'll shoot!”

Instead, she rode faster.

He'd never catch the mustang in the long run. Instead he yelled, “Rascal!” And whistled long and loud.

The mustang slid to a halt and the girl went over his head. Colt dismounted and ran to her. “Serves you right! Are you hurt?”

She came up fighting tooth and nail, clawing at him as he tried to help her up.

Any other woman would be nursing her bruises and weeping, but Hannah stood her ground and fought him as he helped her to her feet. “Let go of me! Let me go!”

“You little wench! You stole my favorite horse!”

He had his arms around her, but she wasn't giving up and it was like hanging onto a bobcat. Now they both went down, rolling in the dirt as they fought. She was slender, but big-breasted, and she kicked at him with those long legs as he managed to pin her against the ground. “Give up, Hannah. You can't win.”

In answer, she reached over and bit his wrist hard.

“Damn!” He turned her loose and she tried to get out from under him, but his weight held her down. She lay there with her deerskin shift half torn open, gasping for air, but she wasn't crying. “Let me go! I've got to get back to the camp!”

He sat on her now, nursing his bite and staring down at her. Her half-naked breasts were clearly visible as the moon came out from behind clouds again. “Why have you got to go back? Do you love Spider?”

She shuddered and made a face. “God no, I hate him!”

“Then whyâ?”

“Ifâif I let you take me, will you let me go?” She looked up at him, still breathing hard, but not fighting anymore.

He realized abruptly how tempting her slender, warm body was, and he hadn't had a woman in a long time. “Why, you little tart. You're offerin' to have sex with me if I'll let you go? What kind ofâ?”

“Please,” she whispered and her voice trembled. “I've got to get back to the camp.”

God, he was suddenly tempted. And who would ever know? His manhood rose at the thought of taking her right here in the dirt. As much as he was aroused, it wouldn't take two minutes. But he was engaged, he remembered, engaged to Olivia and he was an honorable man.

Instead he stood up slowly and pulled her to her feet. She was dusty and her deerskin shift torn, but she still wasn't weeping. She was defiant, blue eyes blazing like cold fire. “All right,” he said, “why is it you've got to get back to the Comanches if you don't love Spider andâ”

“There's a child,” she begged. “I've got a little boy in the camp.”

“I thought your little boy died right after birth?” Colt asked, mystified.

“That was my husband's child. This is Spider's son.”

And now it all came clear to Colt. She had left a half-breed son behind, and she would do anything to get back to him. Knowing Spider, he wouldn't let her take that child, so she had to return to her baby.

Colt nodded in understanding. “Tell me about it.”

She sat down on a rock and brushed the yellow hair out of her eyes. “After he stole me, Spider made me his wife.” She closed her eyes and winced as if remembering the events. “I have a son by him. He's a little over two years old.”

Colt remembered what he knew about the tribe. “Doesn't he have other sons? Other wives?”

“Another wife, yes.” Hannah nodded. “But she has given him no children, so she hates me for being his favorite. I'm afraid Tariito will mistreat my son if I don't get back to protect him.”

Tariito
, Colt thought. It meant “Claw” in Comanche, and the tribe tried to give everyone a name that fit their personality. The woman must be a terrible shrew.

“I know Spider. He is my blood brother.” Colt held out his arm for her to see the scar. “You don't want to go back; he will continue to be cruel to you.”

“I know,” she said. “He tried to break my spirit, but I was as determined as I was against Luther and my stepfather. No man can make me vulnerable. Still I have to return to protect my son from Tariito.”

“Why didn't you tell me that the night we captured you?” He sat down next to her with a sigh.

“IâI tried. No one would listen to me and there was so much confusion and I couldn't remember the words. It's been a long time since I spoke English.”

“Where were all the warriors the night we hit the camp?”

“Gone on a hunt. Little Grasshopper was inside the teepee with Tariito. I was trying to reach them so you could take us both out of the camp.”

“Oh God, I wish I had known that.”

“So you see why I have to go back.” She looked up at him with those wide blue eyes.

“Look”âhe put his big hands on her small shouldersâ”I can't let you return, knowing he'll beat you and rape you again.”

“That doesn't matter. I've got to protect my son.”

“If I promise to bring the troops to save him, will you go back with me?”

“I don't know if I can trust you.” She looked deep into his eyes and she seemed so defenseless and vulnerable. He fought an urge to take her in his arms and hold her close, protect her from all the horrible things that this brave Texas girl had endured.

“Hannah, I promise. You know when a Texan gives his word, it's as good as gold.”

“Yes, it is. I trust you, Colt, and I've never trusted a man before. My real father was killed in the Fannin Massacre and my stepfather drank and beat me. I ran away at fifteen and married a man I thought loved me, but he didn't.”

“Luther Brownley?”

She swallowed hard and nodded.

“He'll be comin' to get you,” Colt said.

She shook her head. “Maybe not. Would you want a woman who had been used as a plaything by a savage?”

“It wouldn't make any difference to me,” he answered.

She gave him a rare smile, and he thought, in that moment, that she was beautiful when she smiled. Why had he thought her plain?

“You're different than most men, Colt. All right, I have your word, so I'll go back with you.”

“And you've got to promise me you won't try to take off again.” He stood up and reached a hand down to her.

She took it with a strong, callused hand that had always worked and worked hard. “I promise.”

“Come on then. Let's get back to the fort before it gets daylight. I don't want a stray Comanche scout to run across us. I left the tribe on bad terms with Spider.”

He pulled her to her feet and they walked toward the horses. Rascal nickered and nuzzled Colt's shirt. Colt scratched his ears. “You're a good judge of horseflesh, Hannah.”

“I knew the mustang would get me there. How did you find me?”

“I lived among the Comanche, remember? I know about that spring in the Llano Estacado. There's almost no other water out on those dry Staked Plains.” He looked over his fine thoroughbred, realized it was going lame. He bent and examined the blood bay's leg, shook his head. “I told the major these fancy horses were no good out here. I'll have to lead him back and we'll ride double.”

He offered his cupped hand. She put a moccasined foot in it, and he lifted her to Rascal's back, then mounted up himself. He could appreciate a woman who would sacrifice everything, even her own freedom, to return for a small son. He would talk to the major about leading a raid into the Comanche camp again. He had made Hannah a promise and he intended to keep it.

She fit so naturally against him as they started back to the fort. He felt her shiver and, without thinking, he pulled her close against him and tried to remember that he was engaged to a beautiful lady. It was difficult with Hannah leaning back against his chest as they rode.

He could smell the sweet, clean scent of her yellow hair as he put his arms around her to guide the horse. Something about her made him want to hold and protect her. Then he reminded himself he must not have feelings for this girl. Her husband would be coming for her and besides, he was engaged to Olivia.

They got back to the fort just before dawn. Colt returned her to the infirmary and went about his duties. Hannah said she would begin a vegetable garden and help Doc with the few patients.

That evening at dusk, Colt stopped her out near the infirmary. “I've talked to the major. He's waitin' for new supplies to come in, but I reckon we'll head for the Comanche camp in a few days.”

“Can't it happen any faster?” She was concerned for her son.

Colt shook his head. “Just be patient. You promised, remember?”

She nodded, trusting this man as she had never trusted another.

Finally darkness fell and one light after another winked out.

Hannah went to bed, but she could not sleep. She lay there, thinking about Colt and wishing things were different, but of course he was engaged to the major's daughter and she was uncertain what her future was after the army rescued little Grasshopper. She didn't think Luther would come for her and certainly she didn't intend to return with him and live as his wife. Finally, she dropped off to sleep.

She was awakened sometime in the middle of the night by a sound. For a moment, she wasn't sure what it was and wondered if she had imagined it. Then she realized it was the slight noise of a window sliding open and then light footsteps, no louder than a cat.

She froze, ready for anything, still not completely awake. And then a dark shadow loomed over her and she felt the sharp blade of a knife against her neck.

“Do not call out,” the guttural voice snarled in Comanche, “or I will cut your throat.”

She felt ice-cold terror, but she did not move. There was no mistaking that cruel voice. It was Spider.

Chapter 6

Colt was awakened just before dawn by fists pounding on his door and Doc's voice. “Lieutenant! Lieutenant! Wake up! Mrs. Brownley is gone!”

“What? Not again!” Colt came out of bed in his drawers and stumbled to the door, opened it to chubby Doc, his bald head shiny with sweat, the white fringe all disarrayed. “What happened?”

“I tell you, she's gone. Must have run away again in the middle of the night.”

“Well, damn it all to hell!” Colt walked over to grab his pants and boots. “She promised me she'd stay until we could mount a patrol to get her little boy back.”

“Dag nab it, I don't care what she promised, she's gone.” Doc rushed into the room as Colt stepped into his trousers and sat down on his bunk to put on his boots.

Then Doc seemed to hear Colt's words for the first time. “Boy? What boy?”

“She's got a son in the Comanche camp.” Colt was more than annoyed with the blonde; he was disappointed. He would have bet his life the girl would keep her promise.

“Ohh.” Doc nodded in understanding as Colt pulled on his boots and the two walked out onto the porch. Outside there was noise of confusion from the gate, a bugle blowing, sleepy troopers running about.

“Now what?” Colt grumbled, running his hand through his tousled black hair. He yelled at a running soldier, “What's happenin'?”

The soldier slid to a halt and saluted. “With the changing of the guard, they just found the night sentry with his throat cut.”

“As you were, soldier.” Colt waved him on, his mind working. No, Hannah would not cut a man's throat.

“What the hell?” Doc asked. “You think she killedâ?”

Colt shook his head. “There's only one man I know who could kill a guard, sneak inside a fort full of armed men and take a prisoner, sneak out again without wakin' anyone. It has to be Spider.”

“You mean that Comancheâ?”

“We'd better get to the major,” Colt said and took off in long strides so fast Doc's short legs couldn't keep up.

The major was already up and in his office, still buttoning his shirt as Colt walked in and saluted. “I know, I know. We've had a guard killed.”

“Also,” Colt said, “HannahâMrs. Brownley is missin'.”

Olivia came into the office just then in her pink satin dressing gown. “Goodness gracious. What on earth is happening?”

“Now, daughter, don't get upset.” The major made calming motions. “We've had some sort of trouble.”

“Mrs. Brownley is missin',” Colt said, “and a sentry's been killed.” He decided to spare the delicate lady the gruesome details.

“You think she killed the guard?” Olivia's eyes grew wide.

“Certainly not!” Colt growled. “That's the most ridiculousâ”

“Then whatâ?” Olivia asked.

“We had a warrior in the fort sometime during the night,” Doc said, still puffing from the walk.

“Oh my! We could all have been murdered in our beds.” Big tears welled up in Olivia's dark eyes.

“Now, now,” the major said, “don't get hysterical, dear.”

“How can I not?” Olivia shrieked. “Whatâ?”

“He came to kidnap Mrs. Brownley,” Colt said. “She's gone.”

“Oh.” Now Olivia didn't seem so concerned. “I mean, how terrible. Is there any chance she went with him willingly?”

Colt blinked, considering that possibility, then shook his head, decided not to mention the child. “I don't think so.”

“Well, you might consider it,” Olivia said and brushed her hair back. She looked all askew this early in the morning. “After all, she's been with the Comanches so long, she might be happier among them. Maybe she shouldn't have been brought back after all.”

“Surely you can't mean that,” Colt said.

“It's gotten one of our soldiers killed, hasn't it?”

Colt looked at Doc and sighed while the major patted his daughter's shoulder. “Dear, you're upset. Why don't you go have Maria make us a pot of coffee while we decide what action to take?”

“Upset? I could have been murdered in my bed; of course I'm upset.” Olivia turned with a flip of her dressing gown and went back into her living quarters and slammed the door.

Colt was surprised at the beauty's actions. She didn't seem to have much sympathy for the missing woman, but then, she was probably upset and sad for the dead soldier.

The major gestured the two men to chairs while he finished buttoning his shirt.

It seemed to Colt they ought to be taking action right now, but after all, Major Murphy was the commanding officer. “The way I see it, sir, I think Spider decided he wanted her back, slipped into camp, killed the guard, and took her. We've got to mount an attackâ”

“Lieutenant, we can't do that today,” the major said. “Remember, we are awaiting fresh supplies.”

“Well, I could take a small patrol andâ”

“Lieutenant, calm down.” The major walked over to his desk. “Now let's think rationally. And while we're waiting for Olivia to make us some coffee, let's all have a drink.”

Doc smiled. “I'll wait for the coffee. Remember I'm on the wagon, but thanks.”

Colt gritted his teeth in frustration. “How can we stand here talkin' about coffee and whiskey when there's no tellin' what's happenin' to Hannah right now?”

Olivia entered just then, carrying a silver tray holding a pot of coffee and three cups, which she set on her father's desk. “Colton, dear, it sounds as if your interest is personal.”

“Of course it's personal. She's helpless and I know how cruel and vengeful Spider can be.”

Olivia returned to her quarters, again slamming the door.

“Don't mind Olivia. She's upset,” the major apologized.

“Or jealous,” Doc suggested.

Colt hardly heard either of them. Of course she was upset. Probably every woman in the fort was, thinking about a savage invading the fort and no one sounding the alarm. Yet here they were standing around talking when every minute put more distance between Hannah and her rescuers.

“Let's have some coffee,” the major said and poured three cups, adding a slug of whiskey to two of them.

Colt took his cup and drank it, but he hardly tasted the steaming brew as it went down. “If we have to wait for fresh supplies to mount an attack, there's no tellin' what might happen to her.” In his mind, he saw her being beaten by the cruel warrior, maybe raped repeatedly. He winced at the thought. He had become so protective of the tall, slender girl who had led such a terrible life.

The major didn't say anything.

“Sir, I know the Comanche, I've lived with them for ten years. Maybe I could go alone and sneak into their camp, andâ”

“By Saint Mary's blood, absolutely not!” the major snapped. “That's a suicide mission, Lieutenant. You're letting your concern for Mrs. Brownley override your good judgment as a soldier.”

“But if we launch a full attack,” Colt protested, “there'll be women and children killed, maybe including Hannah and her son.”

“She has a son?” The major looked up from lighting his pipe.

Colt nodded. “By Spider.”

“Hmm,” mused the major, the pleasant scent from his pipe drifting around the room. “That's not going to sit well with her husband.”

“Her husband?” Colt had forgotten about him.

“Yes, the army's managed to track him down.” The major blew smoke in the air and sipped his coffee. “He should be here in a couple of weeks. I don't know how he's going to feel about a half-breed child.”

Colt shook his head. “I'm certain she won't go with him without her little boy.”

“Dag nab it, what a mess,” Doc said.

“Anyway, to protect the fort, I'll issue an order to double the guards for the next several days,” the major said.

Colt slammed one fist into the other in sheer frustration. “It won't matter. Spider's got what he came after. He won't be comin' back to the fort.”

“Lieutenant, you just take a deep breath, stay calm, and when those supplies get in, we'll go after Mrs. Brownley.” The major poured another cup of coffee, added more whiskey, and sipped it.

“Yes, sir. May I go now?” Colt saluted.

“Certainly.” The major returned his salute.

Doc said, “I believe I'll stay for more coffee.”

To hell with coffee
, Colt thought as he turned and left the office. He had been a soldier for more than ten years and he usually obeyed orders, but in his mind, he saw Hannah being beaten and raped by his cruel blood brother and it made him furious. He had been the one to rescue her, and now he felt responsible for the brave but unfortunate girl. He was sure he had a better chance of getting Hannah and her child out of that camp all by himself. The major was right, it was a suicide mission. But if he waited until the fresh supplies arrived, she might be dead or badly beaten, before the army mounted its campaign.

He decided then that he was going to disobey the major's orders and slip out of the camp after dark. He would rescue Hannah or die trying.

Colt waited until the dead of night to sneak out of his quarters. Instead of boots, he put on his old Comanche moccasins so he could move as quiet as a cougar. He had his pistol, a rifle, and a big knife stuck in the top of his tall moccasins. For food, he took a little beef and hardtack. He could not be encumbered by a lot of heavy gear because he would have to travel fast.

He saddled Rascal and led him across the parade grounds, thanking God that the moon was down tonight so the darkness was as black as a tarantula's back. He knew where there was a break in the stone wall, far from the sentry. He led his little mustang through that place and mounted up. His experience told him where the Comanches might be camped and he started off that direction in a ground-eating lope, stopping to rest his horse now and then.

He hated Spider for all the cruel things he had done, the murders of innocent women and children. That was why Colt had left the Comanche and returned to white civilization. Yet he knew he could not kill Spider. One blood brother must not kill another; it was taboo and would bring the wrath of the four winds and the other gods down upon him. Maybe he was more Comanche than he had thought.

As he rode, Colt wasn't certain whether he should try to sneak into the camp and steal Hannah and her little son out or walk in boldly and announce that she was his woman and he wanted her back. The elders of the tribe would listen to that argument. He found to his surprise that he wished it were true; he wanted to have Hannah as his own, hold her, protect her, and make love to her.

Then he reminded himself that he was engaged to a classic beauty, much prettier than Hannah, wellborn and educated. He should consider himself lucky; there were others like Captain Van Smyth who would be thrilled to be engaged to the dark-haired beauty. And of course, Hannah had a husband who would be coming for her. He was saving the girl for Luther Brownley. At the moment, that didn't matter. He didn't even want to think what Hannah must be going through tonight in Spider's teepee.

It was almost dawn when he rode into the Comanche camp. Dogs began barking and people came running. A few young warriors who did not know him brandished spears.

“How dare a white man ride into our camp?”

Colt held up his hand in a peace sign and said in Comanche, “I am blood brother to Spider. I do not come to fight.”

Others were gathering nowâold leaders, women, and curious children. Colt dismounted as he recognized some of the elderly warriors including Spider's father, Many Scalps.

He held up his hands to show they held no weapons and said in the Comanche language, “Ho, Many Scalps, I come in peace.”

Many Scalps nodded and stepped forward to shake hands. “It has been a long time, Young Stallion. What brings you to our camp?” Then he frowned. “I see you wear the clothing of the yellow legs.”

“I am indeed a soldier now,” Colt acknowledged. “I would not fight my brother Comanches if they would but move farther west and stop attackin' the white man's ranches.”

The other old warriors frowned, and Many Scalps said, “We will eat and smoke a pipe and talk.”

Colt looked around. “Where is my brother Spider?”

Just as he asked, Spider came walking boldly from a teepee. “Why come you to this camp, white man?” He gave Colt a menacing look.

Many Scalps grabbed his son's arm. “Young Stallion comes in peace.”

BOOK: Colt

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