Comanche Moon (55 page)

He grinned and rocked back on his heels. ‘‘Where you from?’’

‘‘A farm along the Brazos.’’

‘‘Fort Belknap anyplace close?’’

‘‘Within a few hours’ ride.’’ Loretta sat up and glanced over her shoulder, praying Amy was all right. ‘‘Is that where you’ll take us?’’

‘‘I reckon so. Unless somethin’ happens to you along the trail. That’d be a shame, wouldn’t it? But then, dead women, they don’t tell stories.’’

‘‘Neither do they bring reward money.’’ Loretta said the words with a bravado she was far from feeling. ‘‘I don’t think your men would appreciate doing all this with no pay. Do you? Fact is, they might get downright cantankerous about it.’’

He licked his bottom lip, the tip of his tongue skimming his beard as he ran his gaze the length of her. Loretta hoped Hunter came quickly. Men like these had no scruples, none at all.

Cloaked in sadness, Hunter glided through the woods, following the keening sounds that ricocheted off the trees. A chill slithered over him. After listening to his mother and Warrior these many hours, Red Buffalo’s mourning song shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. Not just grief, this, but agony. Hunter eased into a moonlit clearing, his guts convulsing as the wails mounted to a high-pitched scream.

Red Buffalo knelt on the riverbank, head thrown back, fists pressed to his chest. Hunter approached him slowly, his pulse a drumbeat inside his temples, irregular and deafening. He had never seen Red Buffalo like this and wasn’t sure he had the strength to lend him comfort. He mourned, too. When reality washed over him, when he allowed himself to think of those he had lost, the pain nearly bent him double.

Going down on one knee, Hunter placed a hand on his cousin’s quivering back. ‘‘Red Buffalo, will you ride with me?’’

Red Buffalo choked on a sob. ‘‘If you seek vengeance, Hunter, begin with me! It’s my doing, all of it! Your father, Maiden of the Tall Grass, Old Man.’’ He clamped a hand over his eyes and heaved another broken sob. ‘‘The children! They died because of me. You tried to warn me, and I didn’t listen. Even your woman was taken because of me! I’m not worthy to ride with men.’’

‘‘What do you mean? My Loh-rhett-ah was taken because she is a
tosi
woman, not because of you.’’

‘‘No! She ran from the trees to stop a
tosi tivo
from shooting me. He wouldn’t have seen her if not for me.’’

The news eased some of the pain from Hunter’s heart. All day long, while he was comforting his grief-stricken family and burying the countless dead, doubts had tormented him. He couldn’t help wondering if she had gone willingly with his father’s murderers.

Hunter wrapped his arms around Red Buffalo and drew him close. ‘‘Red Buffalo, you must put these feelings away from you. I need you, cousin, as I never have before. Will you fail me?’’

‘‘No, you don’t need me. I am poison, Hunter. Everyone I love dies.’’ His shoulders shook convulsively. ‘‘Everyone.’’

‘‘And now you will let their deaths go unavenged? Warrior and I cannot go without you. Who will guard our backs? The time for weeping is over. Now we must fight. For Maiden of the Tall Grass. For my father. For all who are gone from us.’’ Hunter drew a ragged breath. ‘‘The wise ones called council. We cannot remain passive. The whites must be driven out. Now is the right time, while they are at war amongst themselves. Their soldiers are away. They’re defenseless. The People must strike.’’

Red Buffalo’s sobbing quieted. ‘‘But Hunter, that is exactly what you feared might happen. What about survival through peace?’’

‘‘It’s too late for that.’’ A heavy ache centered itself in Hunter’s chest. ‘‘I am a dreamer, Red Buffalo. The land is like a single bone between a pair of starving dogs. There is enough for only one. Peace will never come, never. You were right all along, and I was too blind to see it.’’

‘‘But your woman! She’s a
tosi.
You speak of driving them out. What of her?’’

Hunter started to speak, couldn’t. He took another deep breath and tried again, his voice strained. ‘‘I will protect her as best I can. The others have agreed not to attack her wooden walls. A messenger has already left to tell some other bands of today’s attack and our decision to make war. He will also pass the word about my
tosi
woman.’’

‘‘You aren’t going to get her? She’s your wife. Her place is beside you.’’

‘‘A man cannot own a woman, cousin. He can only . . .’’ Hunter’s words trailed off. A picture of Loretta’s face flashed in his mind. ‘‘He can only love her. The blood of the
tosi tivo
will flow bridle high. To force her to stay with us while we slaughter her people would be torture. Before this is over, my name will be a curse upon her lips.’’

Red Buffalo drew away and lifted his ravaged face skyward. ‘‘So you have lost her. I’m sorry, Hunter. It’s my fault.’’

‘‘Not yours alone. This would have come to pass no matter what. Red Buffalo, I have to make sure my woman makes it safely to her wooden walls. Only a few men can be spared to ride with me. Warrior needs to be here these next few days, with his children. I must trail the
tosi tivo,
make certain they do not harm her and her Aye-mee. If things go wrong, we may have to attack. I need your strong arm. Can you set your hate for her aside and ride beside me?’’

Red Buffalo wiped his cheeks dry with the heels of his hands. ‘‘You want
me
beside you? After all I’ve done?’’

Hunter clamped a hand around his cousin’s arm. ‘‘I’m afraid to go without you. Her life depends on us.’’

Red Buffalo straightened his shoulders. ‘‘Then I am with you.’’

Hunter nodded. ‘‘Once again my brother, yes?’’

Red Buffalo pushed to his feet. ‘‘Yes—your brother.’’ He clasped Hunter’s hand and met his gaze, fresh tears spilling down his face. ‘‘About my hate . . .’’ His mouth quivered. ‘‘I will not only set it aside, I will bury it. If I must, I will die for her.’’

Hunter blinked away tears of his own. ‘‘I have lost too many already, cousin. Do nothing
boisa
to prove your loyalty to me. Protect her, yes. But guard your back while you’re at it.’’

Where was Hunter? The question repeated itself in Loretta’s mind hundreds of times with each passing day. As the mercenaries escorted her and Amy ever closer to Fort Belknap, Loretta’s uneasiness grew. Hunter wasn’t dead. She knew he wasn’t. Sometimes she would have sworn he rode just behind them, but when she looked over her shoulder, she saw nothing. At other times she felt his gaze on her and glanced up, convinced she would see him, astride his horse, only a few feet away. He was never there.

To avoid the horrible nightmares of the attack that had begun to haunt her sleep, Loretta lay awake at night beside Amy, staring at the starlit sky. Through Amy, Loretta had learned of the death of Maiden of the Tall Grass, and she mourned for her. Losing Many Horses had cut Loretta deeply, but at least he had lived a full life. Maiden of the Tall Grass, with her gentle eyes and sweet smile, hadn’t. Loretta prayed that she had gained passage into the land of the dead, that she was now at peace. She also prayed for Warrior and his children, that God would give them the strength to go on without her.

While she prayed, she listened—for Hunter, for some telltale sound that he was indeed out there, as she sensed he was. She knew, as surely as if Hunter had told her, that he was watching over her. She knew as long as the white men did her and Amy no harm, he was content to ride shotgun, watching over them from a distance.

On the last night out, Loretta’s faith in Hunter was rewarded. As everyone settled down to sleep, a coyote yipped nearby, his voice lifting in a mournful call that shivered along her spine and made the hair on her nape prickle. She rolled onto her side, back to the fire so she could scan the darkness. A shadow moved beyond the firelight. The coyote yipped again.

Warmth spread through her. As unobtrusively as she could, she linked her forefingers in the sign of friendship. If Hunter was out there, he would see and know the song her heart sang.

A rock jabbed Hunter in the belly, but he scarcely felt it. Pressing low to the earth, he kept his attention on the glow of firelight and the small woman who lay by the flames, her face turned in his direction. In his mind he was beside her, cupping her cheek in his hand, whispering his love to her. He wished now that he had taught her how to recognize his animal calls so she would know he was with her, that he had been for over six days.

Hunter leaned his head back and yipped again, letting the cry trail skyward. When he lowered his gaze, Loretta was smiling. She linked her fingers, her eyes fixed on where he lay. She had recognized his call. Perhaps he had taught her more than he knew. Pain lashed him, a pain so sharp and so deep that he couldn’t breathe.
The sign of friendship.
In a few short days her heart would never sing a song of friendship for him again.

Two days later, the mercenaries delivered Loretta and Amy to Fort Belknap. After receiving a letter from Mr. Steinbach, attesting to the girls’ safe delivery, the ruffians traveled south to get their reward money. At last, Loretta and Amy, escorted by Steinbach, were able to make the last leg of their journey home.

When they arrived at the Masters farm, Loretta and Amy’s journey home was over. They dismounted from the horses they had borrowed from Mr. Steinbach and were swept into Rachel’s arms for welcoming hugs and tearful kisses. Rachel, gaunt and hollow-eyed from ceaseless worry, could scarcely keep her hands off Amy and seemed loath to let the child out of her sight. Amy hedged when she was asked questions about her ordeal in Santos’s camp, and Rachel seemed content to let the matter slide.

As pleased as Loretta was to see her aunt, she went up the sagging steps with mixed emotions, glancing over her shoulder at the horizon, watching for Hunter. He would come for her now. An inexplicable eagerness filled her. She was anxious to go home—back to the village, back to their lodge, back to his arms. Home wasn’t here at this little farm anymore. Home was where Hunter was, anywhere he was, even if it meant living with her parents’ murderers. She might never forget. She might never forgive. But she couldn’t live her life around the past.

Aunt Rachel and Henry asked Mr. Steinbach, who had escorted the girls from Belknap, to come in for dinner. After seeing to his horses, he accepted happily. Though weary from the grueling trip, Loretta washed up and helped Rachel get the meal on the table, feeling oddly disoriented in the once familiar cabin. The walls and low ceiling seemed to close in on her. She yearned for fresh air and the openness of Hunter’s lodge. On hot nights like this, one could lift the side flaps and enjoy a gentle breeze.

‘‘So, young ladies, how does it feel to be home again?’’ Mr. Steinbach asked.

‘‘I reckon it’s nice,’’ Amy replied solemnly. ‘‘I’m right glad to see my ma, anyhow.’’

Rachel turned from the hearth. ‘‘Amelia Rose, you sound almost gloomy! Show the proper gratitude. Those brave men risked their lives to rescue you, and Mr. Steinbach made a long ride escorting you home from Belknap.’’

Loretta clenched her teeth and set a trencher down on the table with more force than she intended. ‘‘We appreciate Mr. Steinbach’s help, Aunt Rachel, truly we do, but if you expect either of us to be grateful to those mercenaries, get ready for a long wait. Those
brave
men didn’t come to rescue us. They came to kill Indians. Women, children, babies, and old men. Most of the warriors were away hunting. I’m sure the mercenaries knew it. They rode in to slaughter people, and that’s what they did.’’

The ensuing silence clapped like thunder. Henry fastened appalled eyes on Loretta. Rachel pressed her fingertips to her lips. Mr. Steinbach looked uncomfortable.

Amy, who was sitting with the men at the table, blinked back tears. ‘‘They killed Many Horses, Hunter’s father, Ma. And Warrior’s wife, Maiden of the Tall Grass. She made the outfit Loretta’s wearin’. They were our friends.’’

Henry flushed. ‘‘I hope you’ll excuse my girls, Mr. Steinbach. They been through a tryin’ time. They’ll come right here in a few days.’’

Steinbach cleared his throat. ‘‘No need to apologize. There may be a lot of Indian haters in Texas, but I’m not one of them. I’ve never seen a more disreputable group than those men from Arkansas. Looked like border ruffians from up Kansas way to me. Whoever hired them was plumb loco.’’

‘‘Comanches took their kin,’’ Henry retorted. ‘‘You ever seen what they do to a captive white woman? If you ask me, them Injuns got exactly what was coming to ’em.’’

Mr. Steinbach lifted a quizzical brow. ‘‘You ever see how some white men treat a squaw?’’

‘‘It ain’t our doin’ that Injuns sell off their women to no-accounts.’’

‘‘
Marry
them off,’’ Steinbach corrected. ‘‘Indians don’t sell their women, Mr. Masters. They accept a bride price, which is entirely different. The gifts are taken in good faith, and the woman is, according to their beliefs, taken as an honored wife. They expect her to be treated as such.’’

‘‘Bride price!’’ Henry snorted. ‘‘Same thing as sellin’. Heathen animals, ever last one of ’em.’’

Steinbach smiled. ‘‘Perhaps. But then they would say the same of us and the dowry a woman brings into marriage. The way they see it, we pay to get rid of our daughters, which is just as heathenish and doesn’t say much for our women.’’ He took a slow sip of coffee, then shrugged. ‘‘It’s apparent your girls received kindly treatment with Hunter’s band. It’s a shame the good Indians pay for what the bad ones do.’’

Amy threw a rebellious glance at her stepfather, then eyed her mother, who was placing a pot of stew on the table. ‘‘It ain’t finished yet. Hunter’ll settle up with them mercenaries. Just you watch. They’ll die. Ever’ last one of ’em. And I hope Hunter takes his time killin’ ’em.’’

Rachel quickly crossed herself. ‘‘You mustn’t say such, Amy. Surely you wouldn’t wish a fate like that on anyone.’’

Amy shot up from the bench. ‘‘I wished it on the Comancheros! Was that wrong?’’