Apache Flame

by Madeline Baker

  “Well, I hope so,” she grumbled. “After all, you do need lots of practice.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “In case there’s a test.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  White Robe listened intently as Mitch and Alisha told her of the last five years, how Mitch had left Canyon Creek to find work, how Alisha had realized she was pregnant, how Russell Faraday had lied to both Mitch and Alisha about the death of their child. So many lies, she thought sadly, so many lives changed.

  She hugged Rides the Buffalo to her as Mitch and Alisha left the lodge to go look for Red Clements. The white man had gone off to watch some of the warriors race their ponies across the river. Mitch was hoping that, in his travels, Clements’ might have heard of a boy who had been adopted by one of the tribes.

  White Robe pressed a kiss to the top of her son’s head, then sent him outside to play with his friends.

  “What will you do?” Elk Chaser asked.

  White Robe looked at her husband, and slowly shook her head. “I cannot give him up.”

  “You cannot keep the truth a secret forever. Did you not see the way Alisha looked at the boy? He looks much like his father.”

  “It is not uncommon for brothers to look alike.”

  “But they are not brothers. Otter and the woman need only to ask among the people for a child who was brought here four summers ago. Rides the Buffalo is the only one. All who dwell here know he was not born to us. It is a secret you cannot hope to keep.”

  Tears rose in White Robe’s eyes and dripped, like silent rain, down her cheeks. “How can I let him go? I have loved him and nourished him since he was an infant. I have cared for him when he was ill, quieted his fears in the night. He is as much my son as his father is.”

  Elk Chaser gathered her into his arms and held her close. “You will not lose the boy. Surely Otter would not take him from you.”

  “But he will! Alisha will not be content to remain here. She will want to go back to her own people. They will take the boy with them. I cannot let him go! I know it is wrong of me, but I cannot.”

  “You must tell Otter the truth,” Elk Chaser said gently. “If you do not, he will hate you for it. Have there not been lies enough already?”

  With a sigh, White Robe pressed her face to her husband’s chest and wept bitter tears. Elk Chaser was right. There had been lies enough. It was time for truth.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Rides the Buffalo walked away from his mother’s lodge, his gaze downcast. He didn’t answer Little Fox’s call, didn’t stop to say hello to his best friend. He just kept walking. His mother had often told him that spying was wrong, that one day he would see or hear something he would regret.

  Today was that day.

  His mother was not his mother. His father was not his father.

  Otter was not his brother, but his father. His mother was a white woman.

  He looked down at his arms, lifted one of his braids. His skin had never been as dark as those of his friends; his hair was not a true black, but a dark brown. It was wavy, not straight.

  Now he knew why. He was not a true Apache.

  Tears burned his eyes, and he started to run lest someone should see him weeping like a baby.

  He ran downstream, his vision blurred by his tears.

  Why had no one told him the truth?

  The white woman was his mother. He had been taken from her at birth. And now she wanted him, but he did not want to go with her.

  He ran faster, paying little attention to where he was going. He didn’t want to leave this place, didn’t want to go live with his white mother. They would be sorry they had lied to him…

  Blinded by his tears, he didn’t see the chasm until it was too late. He screamed as his left foot went over the edge, and then he was falling, falling, spinning down, down, unable to stop. His right shoulder slammed against the side of the chasm and he cried out as pain splintered through his arm.

  “Shi ma!” He cried for his mother, and then everything went black.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Mitch put his arms around Alisha and held her tight. “I don’t believe it.”

  “I thought he looked a lot like you.” Alisha shook her head, the happiness she had felt at learning that Rides the Buffalo was her son muted by the stunned disbelief in Mitch’s eyes. “I didn’t think anything of it. Your mother told me he was your brother. Brothers look alike.”

  Mitch swore softly, the oath somehow more vile for its mildness.

  “What are we going to do now?”

  “Damned if I know.” He dragged a hand over his face. Why the hell hadn’t his mother told him the truth when he got here?

  It had been Owl Woman, wife of Fights the Wind, who had told them the story. She had overheard them talking to Red. She knew of a boy who had been adopted. Ordinarily, she would not have said anything, but Mitch had saved her husband’s life. Owl Woman recalled the day the trader from Dawes City had come to the rancheria. He was a frequent visitor, but he hadn’t come to trade this time. He had been hoping to find someone to take in a male child. White Robe had taken one look at the boy and practically grabbed the child from the trader’s arms.

  “What do you think Rides the Buffalo will say when he finds out?” Alisha asked.

  “I can’t imagine.” He took Alisha’s hand in his and they started walking back toward his mother’s lodge. It had been a shock, learning that the boy he thought of as his brother was his son, but there could be no doubt. “Why the devil didn’t my mother tell me the truth when I got here?”

  “Maybe she didn’t know.”

  “How could she not know? You said he looks just like me.”

  “Mitchy, calm down. We’ve got to think of Rides the Buffalo now.”

  Mitch blew out a sigh. “What would you think if you suddenly found out that your parents weren’t your parents, after all?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll have to be careful how we approach him.”

  “I reckon. It’s bound to be a shock.”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you feel about staying here awhile?”

  “I don’t know. How long a while?”

  Mitch shrugged. “Long enough for Rides the Buffalo to get used to the idea that we’re his parents.”

  “How long do you think that will take?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. But we can’t just say, Hi, we’re your parents, and drag him out of here.”

  “I know. I’m willing to stay as long as it takes him to get used to the idea.” She paused a moment. “As long as it takes for us to get used to the idea. I’ve thought of nothing but finding my son ever since my father told me the truth, but, deep down, I’m afraid I’m not ready to be the mother of a four-year-old.”

  “Sure you are, you’ve had lots of experience, teaching and all.”

  “Yes, but those are other people’s children.”

  “You’ll be a wonderful mother,” Mitch said reassuringly. “I just hope I’m a better father than my old man.”

  “You will be. You’re nothing like him.”

  “I reckon not.” He slowed, then stopped, as his mother’s lodge came into view. He wasn’t looking forward to confronting his mother, but it had to be done. He was sick of lies and half-truths.

  “Mitchy?”

  His hold tightened on her hand. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

  He was ready for a fight when he reached his mother’s lodge. Lifting the door flap, he stepped inside, then came to an abrupt halt. His mother was in Elk Chaser’s arms, sobbing. Several women and a couple of men were gathered around. Red Clements stood beside the door, his arms folded over his chest.

  “What’s going on?” Mitch asked.

  “Rides the Buffalo is missing,” Elk Chaser said.

  “Missing?” Alisha exclaimed.

  “He has been gone all afternoon. No one has seen him.”

  “Damn.”

  Alisha looked up at Mitch. “Could he have fou
nd out?”

  Mitch shrugged. “I don’t know how.”

  White Robe glanced over her shoulder. “He listens at the door sometimes. I think he might have heard us talking.”

  Elk Chaser spoke up. “I told White Robe she must tell him the truth, that it was a secret she could not keep forever.”

  “So he knows he’s my son,” Mitch said. He glanced at Alisha. “Our son?”

  A murmur ran through the crowd as one of the warriors translated what was being said.

  White Robe nodded. “Perhaps.”

  A short pithy curse escaped Mitch’s lips. “I’m going after him.”

  “I, too, will go,” Elk Chaser said.

  “Count me in,” Clements said.

  “I’ll take all the help I can get,” Mitch said.

  “Let us go.”

  Mitch nodded. “I’ll find him, ‘Lisha,” he promised, and giving her a quick kiss, he left the lodge.

  “Wait, I’m going with you.”

  “Stay here and look after my mother.”

  His horse was tethered outside. Taking up the reins, he began to cut back and forth, searching the ground for sign. It was nearly impossible to pick out one set of prints, but he saw a small set of moccasin prints near the door, followed them as they turned and ran from the lodge.

  All too soon, the prints of Rides the Buffalo were lost among dozens of others. But it was a start. The boy was running southwest.

  Leading his horse, Mitch followed the tracks until they disappeared. The ground beyond the village was too hard to hold a print.

  Mitch glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll ride ahead,” he told Elk Chaser and Clements. “You two spread out and see what you can find.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer. Swinging aboard his mount, he put the horse into an easy lope, hollering Rides the Buffalo’s name as he went.

  There was no sign that the boy had passed this way, nothing but broken ground littered with rocks and brambles and an occasional cottonwood. It was a rough, inhospitable land, avoided by the Apache. Many of their ancestors had been buried here in times past. The Apache believed the spirits of the dead haunted the place. Rides the Buffalo must have been in dire distress to come this way.

  Mitch drew his horse to a halt. Had he heard a cry, or had it been the wind?

  And then he heard it again, a faint call for help.

  He urged the bay toward the sound. “I’m coming,” he hollered.

  Moments later, he was peering into the depths of a narrow chasm.

  “Rides the Buffalo! Are you down there?”

  “Yes.”

  Mitch swore under his breath. “Are you hurt?”

  “My arm. I think it is broken.”

  “Damn. Anything else?”

  “I can’t move. My leg is stuck in a hole.” There was a pause, and Mitch heard the boy sob loudly. The sound echoed off the sides of the chasm. “There is a body down here.”

  Damn, Mitch thought. Had the boy fallen into a grave? “Stay calm, son. The dead can’t hurt you. Does the opening get wider at the bottom?”

  “No.”

  Mitch quickly surveyed as much of the chasm as he could see. It was about four feet across. He leaned over the edge as far as he dared. “Can you see me from where you are?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. Don’t move. I’m coming down.” He turned at the sound of hoofbeats and saw Elk Chaser and Red Clements riding toward him. “I found him,” he called.

  Elk Chaser and Clements dismounted. Elk Chaser glanced around, obviously uneasy at being in this place of the dead.

  “He’s down here,” Mitch said.

  Elk Chaser and Clements walked to the edge of the chasm and peered down into the crevasse.

  “I’m going down after him,” Mitch said.

  “How’n hell you gonna do that?” Clements asked. “We ain’t got no rope.”

  “I’ll need you to go back to camp and get one,” Mitch said. “In the meantime, I’m gonna climb down there. He says he’s got a broken arm, and that his leg is stuck in a hole.”

  Red Clements listened carefully, nodding all the while. “All righty,” he said, “I’ll be back fore ya know I’m gone.”

  “Red, give me your neckerchief and your belt, will ya?”

  Clements untied his kerchief and removed his belt and handed them to Mitch with a grin. “Anything else ya need?”

  “No. Thanks.”

  “All righty then, I’ll be goin’.”

  “Be sure to let his mother know we have found him,” Elk Chaser said. He paused, then added, “Both of them.”

  “Will do.” Clements climbed into the saddle and headed back to the village at a gallop.

  Mitch tied the kerchief around his own neck, fastened the belt around his waist, then rubbed his hands together. “I’m goin’ down. See if you can put a travois together.”

  “It will be ready when you return,” Elk Chaser replied.

  With a nod, Mitch sat down on the edge of the chasm, then turned and with his back braced on one wall and his feet against the other, he began to work his way down. The rough surface quickly shredded his shirt, but he gave no heed to the damage being done to his clothing, or his back. His only thought was for the boy trapped at the bottom of the chasm. Rides the Buffalo. His son.

  It seemed to take hours for him to reach the bottom.

  Rides the Buffalo was hunched against a bunch of rocks. His face was pale. There was dried blood on one cheek, his shirt and clout were torn, there were long scrapes on his arms and legs. He held his right arm close to his chest.

  His right leg was angled to one side, his foot jammed beneath a large rock and the side of the crevasse.

  “Hey,” Mitch said. “How you doin’?”

  “I am doing all right,” Rides the Buffalo said bravely.

  “Sure you are. I’m gonna get your out of here just as soon as I can.”

  Rides the Buffalo nodded.

  “I’m gonna try to lift that boulder off your foot,” Mitch said. “When I do, I need you to pull your leg out as quick as you can, all right?”

  Rides the Buffalo nodded.

  “All right, here we go,” Mitch said. It was a large rock. He put his hands under a crack beneath the rock, bent his legs to get some leverage, took a deep breath, and lifted. “Now!”

  Rides the Buffalo groaned as he jerked his foot from under the rock.

  With an oath, Mitch let the rock settle to the ground again. “You all right?”

  Rides the Buffalo nodded, and Mitch knew the boy was trying not to cry.

  Mitch turned his back to the boy while he examined his foot, giving Rides the Buffalo as much privacy as he could. The boy’s ankle was badly swollen, but Mitch didn’t think it was broken.

  “All right,” Mitch said. “I’m gonna strap your arm close to your chest to keep it immobile while we climb out of here.” He took a deep breath. “I’m afraid it’s gonna hurt like hell.”

  Rides the Buffalo swallowed hard, then nodded. He closed his eyes, his jaw tightly clenched, as Mitch used Clements’ belt to strap Rides the Buffalo’s arm to his chest.

  He was just finishing up when Clements called his name.

  “Yeah?” Mitch hollered back.

  “Here comes the rope.”

  Mitch stood against the side of the crevasse, shielding Rides the Buffalo with his body, as the free end of the rope dropped over the side. He gave the rope a sharp tug. “You sure you’ve got the other end tied off good?”

  “Yeah. Ready when you are.”

  Mitch deftly tied the end around his chest, then turned to the boy.

  “You ready to get out of here?”

  “Are you really my father?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the white woman is my mother?”

  “Yes. We’ll talk about it later. Right now we need to get you out of here.”

  Rides the Buffalo nodded.

  “Here we go. I’ll need you to hold onto me as tight as
you can with your left arm, all right? I know this is gonna hurt, but it’s the only way out.”

  Rides the Buffalo nodded, his dark eyes filled with trust as Mitch bent down and lifted him into his arms.

  “All right,” Mitch hollered. “We’re ready.”

  It was a slow, torturous climb, holding the boy, trying to keep them both from being scraped against the rocks as they were slowly pulled up out of the crevasse. Once, the rope slipped and they fell several feet. Mitch felt his heart leap into his throat at the thought of plummeting earthward and landing on the rocks below, but then their descent stopped and they were again being reeled up, like a fish on a line.

  When they neared the top, Mitch saw that there were three warriors on the rope. His mother and Alisha hovered nearby, flanked by dozens of men, women, and children.

  Spirit Walking came forward to lift Rides the Buffalo from Mitch’s arms; a warrior unknown to Mitch came to help him up over the edge of the crevasse.

  White Robe ran forward, her face lined with concern as she knelt beside the travois where Rides the Buffalo lay, his eyes closed, his face pinched with pain.

  They didn’t waste any time getting back to the camp. Mitch carried Rides the Buffalo into White Robe’s lodge. His mother entered close behind him.

  Red Shield, the shaman, had been summoned and was already there, waiting for them.

  The inside of the lodge was redolent with the scent of sage and sweet grass. Mitch placed Rides the Buffalo on a buffalo robe, then went to stand near the door, out of the way. Alisha came in to stand beside him. Elk Chaser stood on the other side of the doorway. Red Clements waited outside.

  White Robe knelt beside Rides the Buffalo, brushing a lock of hair from his brow, crooning softly as the shaman examined the boy’s wounds. Rides the Buffalo cried out as the medicine man explored the break in his arm.

  Red Shield sprinkled hoddentin into the fire, rubbed some on Rides the Buffalo’s forehead, and then offered the boy piece of yarrow root, which would numb the pain and make him drowsy.

  Mitch put his arm around Alisha as the medicine man spread a layer of moss over the break in the boy’s arm, then wrapped it in a piece of wet hide. As it dried, the hide would harden, molding itself to the boy’s arm, keeping it immobile. Red Shield treated the boy’s ankle in the same manner.