Delaney’s face was carved granite, his voice as hard and as cold as that stone under a desert night. “You’ve wasted your time, Ross. You’ve got nothing I want, and it would take that for me to deal with you.”
“Your friend’s life,” Ross said, pushing Seanilzay closer.
Delaney was forced to look at Seanilzay, knowing that he had denied the Apache his friendship. But it was forgotten when he met Seanilzay’s dark, unblinking gaze. Seanilzay was the one who turned away.
“He means nothing to me,” Delaney said, risking a bluff. He heard Faith gasp behind him, and once again wished her gone. The spirits were not listening to him. Neither was Ross.
“I know different. And I do have something you want. Come inside with me, Carmichael.”
It was an order, nothing else. Delaney saw that Ross was already turning, preparing to walk back inside the building. He waited until the major was nearly to the door. “Ross, you don’t hear good. The answer is no.”
The major executed a sharp turn, glaring at Delaney.
“Popejoy,” he intoned in a chilling voice to one of the privates blocking Delaney’s way.
“Sir!”
“Shoot the Apache. He’s a prisoner trying to escape.” “Sir?” the young man queried, glancing at his fellow soldiers.
“You heard my order,” Ross stated loud enough for all to hear. He resented the crowd they had drawn, resented the cool stare that Carmichael returned to him, but he had his orders and he would carry them out any way he had to.
Faith broke the tension. She ran past Shellby and stood in front of Seanilzay. “I won’t let them kill you.”
The Apache flicked a glance at her and then returned to looking up at Delaney. It was to him that he spoke. “If you tell their lies for them, your heart will never know peace.”
“I gave you an order, Popejoy!”
“Del? You can’t let them kill him!” Faith couldn’t believe he remained still, uncaring of the people around them, the heat, the dust, letting Seanilzay’s life be taken. She stared at each of the soldiers in turn, finally turning to her father. “Please, help him.”
“You can’t interfere in army business, Faith.”
“You can’t do it, Pa. But you don’t speak for me. Is there a man here who will try to stop them?” she yelled to the tightening crowd of miners.
Ross shouted again for the private to come forward. The man reluctantly moved, stopping beside Seanilzay. His hand holding the gun was shaking so badly he had to brace it with his other hand.
Delaney felt no pity for the private as he glared into his eyes. “Pull that trigger, soldier,” he warned softly, almost too softly to be heard, “and I’ll show you how the Apache avenge a friend’s death.” He watched the sweat pop out on the private’s face but refused to feel anything for him. There was a tense silence that added to the heat and the thickness of the air. A tension that grew until the gun wavered in the soldier’s hands.
There was no satisfaction for Delaney when the boy’s shoulders sagged and his head lowered before his hands fell to his sides.
“I can’t do it,” Popejoy whispered.
Delaney had to stop himself from telling him that damn few men could kill in cold blood, but Faith stepped closer, touching his knee. Love shone from the brilliant blue of her eyes.
“Thank you, Del,” she murmured.
He had to ignore her and focus on Ross, who moved to the edge of the boarded walk. “You’re a bastard, Major. Now that you made your play, tell me what you want.”
Ross hesitated. He thought about shooting the Apache himself. He certainly had no qualms. But there was a warning in Carmichael’s merciless eyes that he had to heed.
“Inside, Carmichael.”
“Right here,” Delaney shot back. “This time I want witnesses to hear what you have to say.”
Hate spilled from the major’s eyes, but his smile was chilling. “I do have something besides the Apache’s life that you want.”
Instinct sent up an alarm inside Delaney. It was more than the gloating tone of the major’s voice; it was in his eyes. He had won.
“What the hell have you got?”
“You’ve always wanted to clear your father’s name, haven’t you, Carmichael?”
Delaney didn’t move, didn’t speak; he couldn’t. He had to concentrate on forcing the rage that boiled inside him to subside.
Ross waited and then shrugged. “Well, if you’re not interested…” Deliberately he stopped and turned back to the doorway.
Delaney knew he would do it. Ross would go inside and leave him to beg. He swallowed pride and gall. “You pushed enough, Ross, spit it out.”
The major took a moment to savor bringing him to heel. A moment longer for Delaney to sweat and wait, just as he had been made to do. A few seconds while he turned and faced him. “It seems that your father kept a journal, and I know where it is.”
Chapter 19
“A journal?” Delaney repeated, slicing an accusing look at Seanilzay. The Apache’s dark eyes revealed nothing of his thoughts. Delaney’s tension communicated itself to Mirage. The mare pawed the dust, tossing her head, but for once Delaney didn’t seem to care.
Seanilzay had sworn that Brodie killed his mother to possess this journal. How did Ross get hold of it? He felt as if a trap had been baited and closed around him. Ross knew he would kill to have a means to clear his father’s name. Betrayal and lies. Reason was deserting him. He could trust no one but himself. He met Faith’s unwavering gaze and for an insane moment wondered if she had been a part of this. She backed away a few steps as if she had sensed his thought. Shaking his head, Delaney shuddered. Faith loved him, and he believed her. He had to. But he could not give away more than he already had to the major.
“Cut Seanilzay free, Ross, or we don’t talk.”
“That’s not how it works, Carmichael. I give the orders. I have what you want. You don’t get it until—” Ross could not believe what he was seeing. Delaney had drawn his knife and was leaning down to slice through the Apache’s bonds.
“Stop him!” Ross ordered, but no one moved. There was a murderous fury that promised death to any man who moved in Delaney’s eyes. For a second Ross recoiled from that look. “I can have you arrested for interfering with army—”
“Try it, Major.”
It was the absence of emotion in Delaney’s voice that stopped Ross from answering.
Seanilzay stood rubbing his arms, and Faith offered him her hand. “You must be thirsty. Come to the wagon with me.”
“You have a good heart, Woman with Eyes of Sky. I stay.”
“Go back to your wagon, Faith,” Delaney said, stepping down from his saddle. He handed the reins to Seanilzay. “If I find out that you have betrayed me—”
“No. This I did not do.”
Delaney stared into his eyes and slowly nodded. “Wait.” Looking at no one, he walked to where Ross waited and followed him inside.
Seanilzay scanned the crowd of men that were beginning to move away. He offered no sign that he noticed the blond bearded man who stood a head taller than the men around him. He marked Yancy Watts, watching without seeming to, as the man lumbered across the dust-laden street and mounted his horse. The man would ride north to find Brodie and tell what he heard. There could be no stopping what was meant to happen now.
At his side Faith whispered, “Who is he, Seanilzay?” She, too, had taken note of the man, not for his height or hefty build, but for the hate that came from his eyes toward Delaney’s back.
“Go to your little ones,” Seanilzay said. “Wait for him. When all is done as it should be, he will have need of you.”
“Will you stay with him?” Faith asked, needing the added reassurance that Delaney would not be alone. “I don’t trust Major Ross. There is something about him—”
“Yes, he is a man of lies. I will stay.”
Something in his voice made Faith hesitat
e. “Was he the one who shot you?”
“This does not—”
“I’m not a child to be sheltered, Seanilzay. If you don’t want to tell me, say so.” Her voice was sharper than she had intended, but Faith was angry with the helplessness she felt toward Delaney. Instinct warned her to do as he said, to go to her wagon and leave here. All the love she felt for him made her want to stay and find out what the major wanted from him.
In the end her father made the decision easier for her. “Faith,” he called from his seat on the wagon, then waiting until she was near to ask, “I know we need supplies, but could you manage another night without them?”
“If we had to, yes.”
“Private Shellby said our claim isn’t all that far. We won’t need anyone to show us, and I want to go, Faith.” In a surprising gesture he reached down with one hand and touched her cheek. “It’s for the best that we leave now.”
His look of compassion went a long way toward healing the breach between them. Faith nodded. He was right, and it was what Delaney had asked her to do. With a last quick look at the doorway Delaney had disappeared into, she climbed up on her wagon, disdaining the help Private Shellby offered.
Delaney stood well back from the grimed window, watching the wagons pull out. Before the dust had settled, he turned to where the major sat. The room was furnished with a roughly made wood table, a bench, and the chair Ross occupied. He walked to the back wall, where a ragged curtain hung and ripped it aside. A few scattered packing crates littered the empty room. In the dusky light Delaney saw that the back door was boarded over.
“What did you expect to find, Carmichael?”
“You’re lucky I didn’t find a damn thing, Ross.” Leaning against the back wall, where his view of the door and window were unobscured, Delaney waited for the major to begin.
“General Wilcox wants you to find Juh and Geronimo and convince them to come in.”
“That’s it, no promises, no lies.”
“You know what to promise them,” Ross snapped.
“What I know, Ross,” Delaney drawled, pinning a narrow-eyed gaze on him, “is that you believe war is needed, the kind of unrelenting war that will slay every man, woman, and child and leave their bodies rotting.”
“I follow orders.”
“Orders, Major? You were ordered to find me? You were ordered to use any means at hand to force me to tell your lies? And then, Major,” Delaney continued in a soft, relentless voice, “you were ordered to kill Seanilzay? I have it all right, don’t I? You were just carrying out orders?”
Ross grated his teeth together. His body was rigid, and his eyes held impotent fury to withhold an answer to this man’s mockery.
“Why didn’t you ask Clum or Jeffords?”
“They both want San Carlos back,” Ross replied, trying to understand what he was trying to find out.
“Yeah, that’s true enough. An’ McIntosh is still feeling raw ’bout the army printing his letter in the paper. All three of them would want something from you, right? Something you couldn’t promise them, couldn’t deliver if you did. But me, now, ah, there’s a horse of a different color. For me you found a journal I didn’t know about that could clear my father’s name. A name the army smeared in filth. But that’s all past, right, Major? You’re doing the right thing now.”
“That’s it, Carmichael.”
“I don’t believe you, Ross. You’re a lying sonofabitch.” Delaney came away from the wall, and with even strides he quartered the room. Ross was hanging on to his temper, and that worried Delaney. He knew Ross; there had to be something more to this that he had missed.
The chair scraped back as Ross stood up. “I’ve no time to waste. Either you will do it or won’t.”
“Sit down, Major. We’re not done. I want to know more about this missing journal. Where was it found? How did you get hold of it?”
“None of this is important, Carmichael. The fact is that I know where it is.”
“Where it is? You don’t have it?” Delaney demanded, stopping his pacing and glaring at Ross. “Real convenient how it showed up when you needed it.”
Ross shrugged. “Sometimes things happen that way.”
“Tell me, Major, you set for a promotion if I pull this off?”
“What the devil does that matter!”
“Oh, it matters. It matters a great deal to me. See, I think you’re less than horse dung, soldier boy.”
“That’s enough!” He saw that Delaney started for the door, and all his plans were going to go with him. Ross swallowed bile. “Carmichael, wait. You’ve insulted me, and I’ve taken all I can. Just because I wear a uniform, that doesn’t make me less a man. But what is needed here is a spirit of cooperation to benefit all.”
Delaney turned and studied him. Whatever Ross was after, it was damn important to him, more important than a promotion. At least he knew he was on the right track. He nodded after he saw sweat break over the major’s brow and saw the man sit. Walking to the table, Delaney kicked the bench over toward the wall, then sat with his back protected, facing the major.
“The Apache respect you, Carmichael. All the army is asking is that you talk them into coming back to the reservations. Victorio is leaving a bloody trail across northern Chihuahua. Juh and Geronimo are capturing wagon trains and if you had seen the torture inflicted on those teamsters you wouldn’t be so ready to defend the Apache. It’s got to stop. The army has made mistakes, no one is denying this. But we cannot rectify the past unless they come forth in a show of good faith and allow us the chance.”
He was good, Delaney thought, just the right note of sincerity in the voice, an earnest plea in the eyes, and the words all rang true. But Delaney had a problem in believing that Ross knew what a show of good faith was. That he regretted his mistakes, Delaney accepted as fact. The major wasn’t going to rest until Seanilzay was dead.
“Look,” Ross said, “all you need to do is talk to them. Tell them that General Wilcox will listen to their grievances. He’s under orders from Washington to put a stop to this any way that he can, Carmichael. Soldiers will die along with civilians, but so will more of the Apache.”
“And if I agree, when do I get the journal?”
“When you come back.”
“Not good enough, Ross. I want to see it. Just to make sure it’s real.”
“I can’t do what you’re asking. You’ll have to trust me.”
“Major, I’d sooner trust the devil. No journal, no deal.” But Delaney didn’t move. He sat and waited, reading the desperation in Ross’s eyes. He was being set up, but he couldn’t figure for what. Delaney knew his own thoughts were clouded by the temptation of possessing his father’s journal and clearing his name. But this was one time he wasn’t able to bury it.
“I can’t give you the whole journal, Carmichael, but would seeing one page satisfy you that it does exist? You would recognize your father’s handwriting, wouldn’t you?”
If Delaney had ever believed that his self-control had been tested before this moment, he knew he had been wrong. He urged every fiber of his being to sit quietly and merely nod his acceptance when he longed to sink his fists into Ross.
“Wait here and I’ll get it. Once you’ve seen it, you can leave.”
“After I see what you have, I’ll let you know what I decide.” Delaney watched him walk outside, his mind churning with questions. If what Seanilzay told him was true and Brodie had the journal, where did Ross fit in? And if his mother had been killed, why was the journal hidden all this time and not destroyed? He was missing a piece that would tie this together beyond his certainty that the army intended to use him.
Minutes later the major returned carrying his map case. He placed it on the table and opened it, withdrawing a small folded piece of paper, which he then held out to Delaney.
There was no betraying tremble in his hand when Delaney leaned over to take it. He unfolded the paper, one edge torn, a
nd knew at a glance it was his father’s writing. The light was poor, so he rose and stood near the doorway to read the few lines.
I was there this time. I saw the scales and weights. The cattle are fat, glossy-coated, and worth top dollar.
Tuesday, 16th of May. G. sent word for me to come. Of the fifty head purchased only fifteen were delivered and these sickly. The scales were tampered with again. Now I have a name to bring up on charges
A water stain blotted out the rest of the page. But it was enough for Delaney to understand that his father had tried to document each incident of theft. And if he succeeded, he had died for it.
“Satisfied, Carmichael?”
“More than you know,” Delaney answered, refolding the paper and tucking it in his shirt pocket.
“Then I’ll tell you what terms you are to bring to the Apache.”
For the next hour Delaney listened and offered no advice no matter how wrong he thought some of the terms suggested were. Ross and men like him, he decided, never tried to understand that crowding the different bands of Apache on one reservation couldn’t work. Their beliefs and needs were not the same. In addition the army refused to guarantee there would be no more taking of reservation lands to satisfy miners. But then, he countered his own thought, knowing that President Grant himself had stolen over five hundred acres with his order that reduced the reservation’s boundaries to allow miners into the area.
Finally Ross sat back in the chair, pointing to his map. “You know this area, and that’s all the help I can give you.” He circled the lower southeastern corner of the territorial map. “They’ve got to be hungry. That should make them at least willing to listen.”
“Hunger usually does, Ross.”
“I have two packhorses loaded with supplies for you to take to them. Shellby will accompany you.”
“No. I go alone. One spare horse for me. Get rid of the army saddle.”
Ross opened his mouth to argue and closed it. “All right, Carmichael.”
When Delaney went outside, Seanilzay was still waiting.
Desert Sunrise Page 25
