had 199 been unable to find him.
She shivered. Perhaps more so than any other Indian on the Western
frontier, the Apache could strike terror into the hearts of the people.
But nothing could be more fearsome than the Comancheros who faced her
now, staring down at their small group of three from the hillside and
the horizon.
Tremors tore at her heart. She had ridden with Jeremiah and David for a
day and a night and through much of this day as well, and she had done
her very best with Jeremiah.
She had looked for eve~ possible opportunity to escape, but David had
taken great care never to give her a chance. She was never alone. Even
when she relieved herself, he was not more than a few steps away, and
his promises of what he would do if she even tried to move made her
weigh her circumstances very carefully. As long as she was with them,
she was safe. Jeremiah wasn't going to let David touch her, and David
was frightened enough of von Heusen to listen to Jeremiah.
Hour by hour she had dreamed. Jamie had to come for her. If he was
alive, he would have to come for her. HIS sense of honor would let him
do no less.
But he had to come while she was still with David and Jeremiah. The odds
would have been pretty even then, he could have ridden in with the sun
and carried her away into the sunset. But he had not come, and although
she could not allow herself to believe that he had been killed, she knew
the odds were no longer even. Not even Jamie Slater could come riding
into a throng of a hundred Comancheros, guns blazing, and carry her
away. She was indeed here, and. The Comanchcros were all staring down at
her. Suddenly, wild screams and shrieks filled the air, and the army of
Comancheros came galloping toward them. The cries made her heart
flutter, and as they came nearer and nearer, Tess felt an even greater
terror growing within her. She began to see their faces, and they were
frightening. Most were Mexicans, dark, with long, scruffy beards and
heavy, dipping mustaches. They wore hats and shirts and trousers and
boots; many wore blankets over their shoulders.
All were heavily armed, some with shell cases crisscrossed over their
chests.
They would not run out of bullets in a fight. There were Indians, too.
Renegades of many tribes, Tess thought, Apache, Comanche, Navaho, some
in the Mexican regalia of their comrades, others in more traditional
buckskin, at least two of them in simple breech routs riding nearly
naked in the wind, hooting their triumph and their catcalls, racing
around and around the three of them again and again.
They meant to terrify her! Tess thought angrily. Well, supposedly she
wasn't in danger yet, even if she was so frightened that she wasn't sure
if she could talk or move. David had been a nightmare, but this was far
worse.
Any dreams she had entertained of rescue fell crashing down into a
horrible pit of despair. She had never felt more vulnerable in her life.
She swore, though, that she would not cower before these men who were so
determined to unnerve her. They wanted to see tears, she thought. Panic
and hysteria. She was close to giving them all that they desired, but
she locked her jaw against its trembling and raised her chin. And as the
Comancheros raced by her one by one, she kept her eyes levelly upon
them, and she ignored the dirt that rose to choke her, bringing tears to
her eyes. She sat very still, and she waited.
The horsemen rushed by, then doubled back, bringing their horses to a
halt behind her. Jeremiah and David swung around to face them. Tess
didn't know whether to find pleasure or new anxiety in the fact that her
captors seemed as unnerved as she by the rugged Comancheros. The
Comancheros were all lined up again, and silent once more. The leader
emerged, edging his horse forward. He was frightening indeed, with
coal-dark hair and coal-dark eyes and a dark olive complexion. He had a
great, drooping, handlebar mustache, and though he grew no beard, the
rest of his face was not clean shaven. A western hat sat atop his head,
the brim pulled low. His chest was crisscrossed with ammunition, and a
long, lean cigarillo fell in a slash from the corner of his mouth.
He paused before them and reached into his pocket, then struck a match
against his boot to light his cigarillo. He stared at Tess, a smile
forming on his features. "So, amigos, the goods are delivered, eh?" He
smiled, staring at Tess. She returned his gaze. His smile deepened. "She
stares at me hard.~Maybe she will be just what Nalte desires. Untie her
hands."
"Chavez, she is dangerous," Jeremiah warned him. "Dangerous? One little
blond girl is dangerous when there are a hundred men around her? I told
you--untie her hands. Send her to me."
Tess felt the movement as Jeremiah reached for his knife. She heard the
rasping sound as he severed the ties that bound her hands together.
Instinctively she brought her hands before her, massaging her wrists
where the rope had burned them.
"Come down here, nirut," Chavez ordered.
She was ready to defy him; Jeremiah was not. He dismounted quickly from
the horse and reached for Tess. He set her hastily on the ground, then
moved away from her as if she were a rattler.
"There she is, good as new, just as we promised. Now, where is the gold,
Chavez?"
Chavez motioned to one of the men behind him, a half- naked Indian
wearing a headband of eagle feathers, a breech clout twin leather strips
of rifle bullets and nothing more.
He carried a small leather satchel that he tossed to Jeremiah. Jeremiah
instantly opened the bag. He let out a joyous whoop and looked to David.
alpache Summer "Gold. I mean gold!" He bit the coins, smiling wolfishly.
"See, David, it was all worth it!"
"Wait, my friend," Chavez said. He took a step closer to Tess.
"These rat piss, they did not touch you?"
Tess narrowed her eyes, then thought of her own safety. "No, they did
not touch me."
Chavez nodded.
"Nalte, he does not like to be he- trayed." He raised his voice,
shouting in Spanish. A Mexican rode up leading a small pinto pony.
"You," he told Jeremiah and David.
"You are done. You go. That is all.
And you, woman, you will ride this horse."
She did not move. Jeremiah mounted his horse once again, but Tess made
no move. Angry, Chavez urged his mount forward until his large buckskin
was nearly stepping upon her.
Still, she did not move.
"Ni~a" -- "I'm not a girl, Chavez, and I have a name. It's Miss.
Stuart."
Chavez started to laugh. He laughed so hard that he crunched down on his
cigarillo. He nearly swallowed part of it and started to choke.
When he caught his breath, he dismounted from his horse and thundered
furiously over to her. He was a short man, she thought. One who looked
much better on a horse than standing. She was almost as tall as he. She
would be taller.
She raised her chin and met his stare.
am talking to you." He reached out a hard, callused palm and set it
against her cheek. Tess slapped him with all the strength in her.
There was silence from every man there.
Then Chavez let loose with a spate of Spanish oaths. Tess thought he
would strike her, but he did not. He lifted her, setting her upon the
bare back of the pinto. She fought and clawed at him. His hat went
flying into the dirt.
Her nail imprinted a bright line upon his unshaven cheek. He swore
again, stooping to swoop up his hat.
"Hey, Chavez!" David snickered.
"We warned you she was dangerous."
Chavez calmly pulled out his pistol and shot David through the heart.
Tess, who had despised David, nearly gasped aloud. She clenched her
chattering teeth, managing to remain immobile and silent as she watched
the red stain flare out on David's shirt.
His eyes widened, and then glazed over, and he crashed down from his
horse.
He had deserved it. He had savagely, heinously attacked Jamie. He had
nearly raped her. And yet the cold brutality of his shooting sent waves
of shock rippling within her. "You--you shouldn't have done that,"
Jeremiah stuttered, shocked.
"Mr. von Heusen, he" -- Jeremiah's words broke off in a scream as he saw
Chavez lowering the still smoking pistolin his direction. Chavez was not
a man of mercy. The pistol barked again.
That time Tess did scream. She catapulted from the pinto horse and threw
herself against Chavez, clawing, raking, pummeling him. He swore,
dropping the pistol, ducking her blows, trying desperately to seize her
wrists.
Finally he had her. His heavy arms locked around hers, and she was
assailed with the scents of onion and sour breath and unwashed human
flesh. A sickness nearly overwhelmed her, and she locked her jaw,
standing very still as he stared into her eyes with his own coal-black
ones.
"Don't be too dangerous--Miss. Stuart. You see how I deal with people
who can no longer serve me. You will behave until we have delivered you
to Nalte.
Do you understand?"
"No, I do not. I do not, because I do not give a damn!" He swore again,
savagely. His arms tightened around her as if he intended to break every
rib in her body, but as suddenly he released her, thrusting her into the
dirt.
The dust rose high around her. Tess started to cough and choke. Chavez
wrenched her up and helped her onto the pinto pony. The horse protested,
letting out a shrill sound and prancing back and forth.
"You will ride!" Chavez yelled, his eyes black upon her. Trying to
maintain her balance, Tess reached for the reins.
She wanted to protest; she wanted to fight.
But she said no more. She held the reins and leveled a glare at Chavez.
She didn't want to be bound once again. At least she was not tied, and
the pinto pony was sound and sturdy. Her dreams had escaped her, but now
they were finding a rebirth. There were a hundred men surrounding her,
but feeling the power of the horse beneath her, the determination
reawakened within her that she would escape. She would survive.
"Ride!" Chavez roared again. She was going to obey him, and he knew it.
He started to laugh.
"Miss. Smart. Yes, Miss. Smart, you must ride! Nalte is waiting!" The
Comancheros shrieked again. Men lifted their rifles in the air; some
chanted.
Horses pranced around, and their hooves hit the dust. Then they were
off.
Tess found herself holding tight to the pinto lest she be thrown and
trampled in the stampede.
"Damn?"
High atop a cliff where the mountain range began its craggy rise to the
sky, Jamie threw himself against a rock near his perch overlooking the
broad, dusty plain below. He closed his eyes in pain, then opened them
to stare across at Jon, who was still squatting on the flats of his
feet, stating down at the riders who were racing away in a cloud of
dust.
They had ridden hard and long, and they had nearly caught up with Tess
before David and Jeremiah had come upon the Comancheros. Nearly. Not
quite. They had come in time to watch the Comancbero kill yon He, usen's
men in cold blood, and in time to see Tess hit the mustachioed Mexican
bandit.
And they had come in time to watch the men ride away with her.
"There was nothing to be done. Not now," Jon said unhappily.
Jamie nodded bitterly.
"Tonight. We have to catch up with them tonight." He was silent for a
moment, then he pulled off the low-brimmed hat he was wearing and
slammed it against the dirt.
"What the hell is the matter with that woman? Doesn't she realize that
Chavez is a cold- blooded killer? He's going to rip her to shreds if she
keeps that up! I could rip her to shreds myself right at this moment." ~
"She can hardly know that we're sitting up here watching her," Jon
reminded him.
Jamie stood up, retrieved his hat and set his hands on his hips as he
stared at the sun. Twilight was coming soon enough. He didn't want to
follow so closely that they stood a chance of the Comancheros doubling
back on them, but he didn't want to be very far behind.
"She's getting closer and closer to Nalte's territory. I have to get her
back before she winds up in Apache hands." He paused.
"Before Nalte discovers that he hasn't been brought ..."
"A virgin bride?" Jori suggested.
Jamie scowled. He was staring down where the dust still rose in the wake
of the horses.
"I met Cochise once," he murmured.
"I admired the man. He was willing to meet with me under a flag of truce
in spite of the number of times the cavalry betrayed his trust. He is
our enemy, he is dangerous, but I would not hesitate to go to him. I
wonder if this Nalte is a man like Cochise."
"Nalte is powerful," Jon said.
"He is the head of his family, and the chief of many families. He
usually makes war with the Mexicans because of the war they have made
upon him, but he will deal with the Comancheros because they bring him
the arms he needs to fight his battles. He is fiercely against the
reservation life, and will battle for his land to the bitter end. But
from what I have heard, he is still a man with ethics and honor."
Jamie inhaled and exhaled.
"I just don't know. I'm going to try to get her back tonight," he said.
"I daren't risk waiting to deal with Nalte."
He turned and started sliding down the cliff toward the small clearing
in the rock where they had left the horses.
"Coming?" he called to Jon.
"I'm fight behind you," Jon assured him.
The Comancheros rode hard alongside the range until the daylight waned
and night began to fall upon them,~ Then they moved into the mountains.
The terrain became very rugged, and their pace slowed.
Chavez dropped back to ride beside Tess.
"This is Nalte's territory.
You will meet your bridegroom very soon." He sneered at her, v
ery
pleased with himself. Tess said nothing, but watched the man with as
much disdain as possible.
"Wait until you meet Nalte. He is tall and as strong as the rock.
He crushes arrogant little girls between his fingers. He is fierce in
his paint and breech clouts and he is merciless upon his enemies."
"Chavez, he cannot be anywhere near as repulsive as you," she said
pleasantly. So pleasantly that it took several long moments for the
smile to fade from his weathered features. He shook a fist in her face.
"I have not given you to Nalte yet, little girl! You hold your tongue,
or you will pay!"
He rode forward again. Tess shivered but kept her eyes straight ahead in
the growing darkness. She could feel the horses and the men bunched
around her, could feel their eyes upon her, could smell the sweat of
their bodies. But she kept her eyes on the trail, looking neither left
nor fight, trying desperately not to acknowledge them--or her own fear.
The rocks stopped suddenly. They had come upon a small plateau studded
with crude buildings barely discernible in the dusk. An open fire with a
huge spit set above it burned in the center of the clearing, and there
were women there and a number of armed men awaiting them. Tess figured
it had to be a headquarters of sorts for Chavez in the mountains.
Perhaps his last stronghold before it became Nalte's territory in full.
She remained on her horse as the men rushed into the clearing, yelling,
screaming, calling to their women, cavorting as they dismounted.
Chavez rode over to her.
"Welcome to my home, little girl." He laughed.
"Mi casa es su casa. Always, my house is yours. Tomorrow, Nalte's tepee
will be your home!" He roared with laughter, as if he had just said the
most amusing thing in the world.
He dismounted from his horse and lifted her down from hers. He pulled
her close against him, still roaring.
"Maybe I will keep you myself. You have so much to learn about manners.
Maybe you are like a very fine horse to be broken, eh? A magnificent
mare to be ridden and tamed, eh?" Tess struggled fiercely against him.
He enjoyed her distress and continued to smile. She shouldn't fight him,
she thought.
He enjoyed it so very much.
But just as she went limp, a sharp female voice called out, "Chavez!"
His features hardened. He did not release Tess, but turned around and
stared at the dark-haired, buxom young woman coming toward him. She wore
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