The pistol wavered, and Cale glanced to the side. The man that greeted him was filthy and disheveled, but beneath the brim of a well-worn Stetson, he'd know those green eyes anywhere. They were Tess's eyes.
Surprise filled Hank’s face. “Cale?” He lowered the weapon. “Well, I'll be damned. What in God’s green earth are ye doin' here?”
Cale turned to face the man who had once been his mentor, and his friend.
“I'm lookin’ for you,” Cale said. “It's been a damn goose chase, I'll tell you that.”
Hank laughed, a hearty bellow that Cale well remembered, and embraced him. “Boy, it’s mighty fine to see ya.”
Cale returned the hug, caught off-guard. He wished it could’ve been a happier reunion, but anger gripped him, and he was glad that he’d come here without Tess.
When Hank stepped back, the change in him was pronounced. While he’d always been lean, he’d been fit. Now his tall frame appeared gaunt. The white whiskers blanketing his face and the gray that had overtaken his red hair made him seem almost ghostly.
“These mountains whisper too much,” Hank continued. “I didna know how much longer I can stand it here. Come on.” Hank urged him toward the ashes of the campfire. “Let's sit and visit. I can make coffee.”
Cale sat atop an overturned crate while Hank built up a fire of mesquite wood and placed a dented pot of coffee into the flames.
“Where have ye been?” Hank asked. “I never did like how we left things.”
Cale decided to stay on friendly terms until he could determine Hank’s state of mind. “I’ve come from Texas.”
“I know ye lived with those red skins.” Hank shook his head. “You’re the one they call the Mountain Lion. They’re here, ye know—your Apache family.”
“I know.”
“Is that why you’ve come? To see them?”
Cale glanced skyward as a gust of wind brought the surrounding piñon pines to life. “No. I came looking for you. Tess is worried about you.”
“Tessie? She sent you?”
Cale nodded, not ready to reveal Tess’s location. “Were you ever gonna come back for her?”
Hank grabbed the coffeepot with a rag and poured the thick brew into two battered tin cups, then handed one to Cale. “She’s better off without me.”
“She doesn’t look at it that way. Why are you in the Dragoons?”
“Always liked it here.”
“That’s a load of shit. You never liked the Apache.”
Hank laughed, but the shrewdness in his eyes put Cale on edge. Hank may look like a mad man roaming the mountains, but he was far from it.
“Are you lookin’ for gold, Hank? Is that why you’re here?”
Hank paused, resting elbows on knees as he leaned forward. The crate he sat on creaked from the movement. “What if I am?”
“You’ve given up manhunting?”
“I’m not gettin’ any younger, m’boy. And you know these hills are a promisin’ lot.”
The wind whistled through the surrounding woods, and Cale readjusted his hat. “Maybe. Why’d you send for Lange?”
“Walt? I didna send for ’im.”
Cale took a swallow of the God-awful brew in his cup. “He’s here, and he says you did.”
Hank shook his head. “I haven’t seen Walt in over two years. It’s all done with, that group of ours. Old business. Doesna concern you. Had to do with me little girl.” He eyed Cale. “Have ye seen her?”
“Yeah.”
“How is she?”
She’s the most beautiful woman I know. She’s wild and haunted and frightened and still seeking the love of her pappy.
“She’s strong, Hank.”
He nodded, his attention seemingly elsewhere. “She married yet?”
“No.”
“She should marry, as soon as she can.”
“Why?”
“She should get herself a husband before her beauty fades.”
“I doubt that will ever happen.”
“Her beauty or gettin’ a husband?” Hank raised an eyebrow, but his gaze held a spark of recognition. “You’ve seen her, haven’t ye? Is she really that lovely?”
Cale didn’t respond.
“I shouldna be surprised. Her mama quite captured me with her lusty looks.” His voice faded a bit. “I still dream of Isabelle sometimes. She tells me I need to take care of our Teresa, so that’s what I’m tryin’ to do.”
“So you’re lookin’ for gold, and then what? You’re gonna take care of Tess with it?”
“Somethin’ like that.”
“Just answer me one thing. Why’d you let Saul hurt her?”
Hank paled and shrank back. “She told you?” His voice was so low Cale barely heard him.
“You’re such a bastard,” Cale said. “After that business with the Apache down in Mexico, I lost faith in you. I thought you were a man to look up to, a man I could respect. Even after, a part of me still imagined there was something good and right and justified in your character. A small piece of me always believed in you. But when Tess told me what happened that night, it all slipped away.”
Hank stared into the fire. “Why would she tell you? Ye don’t even know her.”
“I know her now. And God knows why, but she wants to see you.”
Hank’s eyes snapped to Cale. “She’s here?”
Cale gave one slight nod.
“Where?”
“She’s with Mohan’s band at the moment. Did you think she was dead?”
Hank shook his head. “No. But I spread the word that she was. It was safer for her.”
“Would Saul have come after her?”
“I guess he might’ve. But I took care of ’im.”
Cale had some idea of what Hank would say, but asked anyway. “What do you mean?”
“Saul’s not walkin’ this earth, not after what he did to my Tessie. I shot ’im in the head.”
Cale knocked his hat back, barely able to contain his rage and frustration. “Saul’s alive.”
Shock filled Hank’s gaze. “That’s not possible.”
“Tess saw him, two days ago, north of here.”
“Impossible.”
“Are you sure you didn’t miss?” Cale asked.
“Damn sure, boy.” He set the coffee down and reached for a jug, pulled the cork and took a swig. “Want some?”
“No.” Drinking rotgut with Hank held little appeal. “What happened that night?”
Hank’s shoulder’s sagged. “There was some bad business with Jim Bennett. He was gonna turn us all in for accidentally killin’ a few whores while on a manhunt.” He took another gulp of the sour-smelling liquor and shook his head. “You know these things happen. Bennett was bein’ unreasonable and Saul insisted he had to be dealt with. I didn’t agree and planned to talk things over with Jim the next day. But during the night, I couldn’t locate any of ’em—Saul, Walt or Tess. I knew somethin’ had gone wrong.”
“But Tess told me that you sent Saul to take care of the situation, including her.”
The astonishment on Hank’s face made Cale almost believe that he hadn’t known.
“Is that what she thinks?” Hank hung his head and sighed. “Well, it weren’t true. I had no idea she’d run off to find Jim. I had no idea that Saul and Walt followed her. Before dawn, I rode to the outskirts of Tucson and found Jim dead and Tess...”
Cale lifted his hat and ran an agitated hand through his hair. “Is that when you shot Saul?”
“You’re damn right that’s when I shot ’im.” The shrewd gleam returned to Hank’s gaze. “Right in the head. Then I took Tessie to the only place where I knew she’d be well-cared for—Tom Simms and his wife.”
“But you can’t be certain that Saul died.”
“I s’pose it’s possible, if you say he’s been seen.”
Cale watched the shell of the man across from him. “Why, Hank? Why did you keep Tess around those men?”
Shadows of sadness filled
Hank’s green eyes. “I didna know what to do with her after the fire, and she was me daughter. I wanted to keep her close. I never meant to hurt her.”
“Why have you stayed away from her?”
“She didna deserve my life. As soon as I found her, as soon as I realized what Saul had done to her...I knew she was better off without me.”
Cale flicked what remained of the coffee from his cup onto the ground and stood. He wasn’t sure what to make of Hank’s side of the story. “I don’t know why, but Tess wants to see you.”
Hank went quiet.
“But you won’t come near her unless I say so,” Cale continued. He paused and watched the man who’d once been the great J. Howard Carlisle—cunning, relentless, and smart. Disappointment sat heavy in Cale’s gut. “I’m guessin’ you’d better watch your back if Saul really is here.”
Cale left Hank alone by his fire and returned to the Apache.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tess spent a good part of the day helping Lenna grind corn, each of them hunkered over a stone mortar and depositing the pinole onto a deer hide. The young girl enjoyed chatting, and Tess soon learned that there was interest in Cale from several females in camp.
“I didn’t think Apache women fancied white men,” Tess said cautiously, remembering what Cale had told her.
“It is true,” Lenna replied. “But Change of Heart is different. His heart is now of the People. Are you Cale's woman? They have asked me to ask you.”
“Who?”
“The other women.”
Tess wanted to think she was the only female Cale would desire, but he hadn’t made any promises to her nor said anything specific. It would be presumptuous of her to assume she was.
When Tess didn’t speak, Lenna continued. “Are you not certain?”
“I cannot speak for him,” Tess replied.
“Do you share his bed?”
The answer became lodged in Tess’s throat.
Lenna giggled. “You are his woman. I will tell the others to stay away.”
Relief filled Tess. She would loathe standing by and watching while Cale took up with another woman. The Apache encampment was small, and it would be difficult to avoid knowing about such things.
In the afternoon, Cocheta came to sit with Tess. Lenna stayed close to translate. The old woman grinned and spoke.
“She calls you Blackbird,” Lenna said. “She says you can see the darkness.”
“Maybe,” Tess said.
“Once you have seen the darkness,” Lenna interpreted, “you can live in the light once again. It was that way with Change of Heart.”
Tess nodded her acknowledgment.
“Cocheta say you are full of mischief.”
“No,” Tess answered. “I’m not.”
Lenna conversed with Cocheta. They laughed and Lenna said, “You were. You can be again.”
Tess thought of her childhood. She'd been impulsive and curious. An ache began in her chest, a longing for that girl once again.
“Is it true that she was struck by lightning?” Tess asked Lenna.
Lenna nodded.
“How does that feel?” Tess pressed.
Lenna exchanged words with Cocheta, and the young girl's mouth twisted into a smirk. “She say her body hums now.”
“That must be strange.”
Cocheta chuckled.
“Her heart skips beats sometimes,” Lenna added. “It helps her see the in-between places. And now, Cocheta wants to hear a story from you.”
Tess caught the old woman's gaze and the amusement present. And, while she suspected Cocheta was sizing her up, Tess relaxed a bit. She had just the tale and brushed at her checkered skirt as she shifted for a more comfortable position. She decided to speak in Spanish.
“A rich hidalgo courted a very beautiful woman,” Tess began, “but she was poor. Eventually he captured her affection, and she bore him two sons, but he wouldn’t marry her. One day he announced that he must return to his home and marry a rich woman chosen by his family, and he wanted to take his two sons with him.
“The woman was so despondent and crazed that she clawed at herself and shrieked like a madwoman. She also clawed at the man she loved. Then, she grabbed their two sons, ran to the river, and threw them in. They both drowned. The woman wailed in grief and proceeded to die on the riverbank. She was called La Llorona.
“The hidalgo returned home and married the rich woman while the soul of La Llorona ascended to heaven. The master of the gate told her she may come to heaven, but first she must recover the souls of her children from the river.
“That is why La Llorona, the weeping woman, sweeps the riverbanks with her long hair and puts her long stick-fingers into the water to drag the bottom for her children. This is why living children shall not go near the river at night, for La Llorona may mistake them for her own and take them away forever.”
Cocheta watched her in quiet contemplation, then took Tess’s hand into her own. Tess knew that she approved.
* * * *
When Cale entered camp near dusk, Tess went to him. He folded her into his arms.
“Where were you?” she asked. “Have you been scouting all day?”
“Yes. How are you?”
“Better now that you're back.”
She sensed he held something back but knew this wasn't the time to pursue it.
He's found Hank.
She wasn’t sure how she knew, but the declaration rang loudly in her head.
“Sit with me while I eat.” He clasped her hand and walked with her to a central fire. She followed, and wondered if he planned to tell her.
Mohan and his wife, Dae, welcomed them. Bipin and Lenna also crowded close. They ate acorn stew and cornbread, while Cale conversed with the chief and Bipin, using a mishmash of English, Spanish and Apache.
Frustration simmered in Tess as she chewed her food. Why didn’t Cale simply tell her he’d found Hank? With her padre so close, ambivalence bombarded her. She wanted to see him, had worried over him day after day, but suddenly the night of the attack came back to her, and a hole of despair threatened to consume her.
Why, papá? Why did you let it happen?
After a time, the discussion died down and Cale told her they should turn in.
T ry as she might, she couldn’t keep the sharp edge from her voice. “And you’re going to leave me alone again?”
“Why?” His gaze honed in on her. “Is someone bothering you?”
“No. But why can’t I sleep beside you?”
“I was trying to give you a bit of decorum.”
She snorted in disgust. “Is that a joke? You’re trying to give me space...here?” She glanced around the rancheria for emphasis.
Their campfire companions slipped away as if spirits.
Cale looked at her again and said quietly, “You’re being rude. You may consider the Apache wild and uncouth, but they do respect boundaries between men and women.”
“Do you have another woman here?” She knew she was headed down a slippery slope, but her nerves had finally reached a breaking point and she couldn’t seem to stop.
“No. Are you jealous?”
“There are women here who want you.”
“It doesn’t matter, Tess. I don’t want them. Why are you so upset?”
“Why did you leave today? I know you weren’t hunting or scouting.”
He paused and wouldn’t look at her.
“You found Hank,” she said softly.
He lifted his eyes to hers. “Yeah.”
“Why did you go without me?”
“You even have to ask me that?” His voice rose in irritation. He sighed, removed his hat, and rubbed the back of his neck.
“How is he?”
Cale’s jaw flexed as he clearly struggled to not speak his mind.
“Does he know I’m alive?”
“Yeah, he does.”
“Does he care a rat’s ass about me?”
Cale frowned, censur
e on his face, no doubt from her foul language. “Tess, he claims he didn’t know anything about Saul coming after you and Bennett. And when he did find you, he shot Saul in the head.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I honestly don’t know. I was gonna tell you about seeing him, just not tonight.”
As Tess sat beside Cale, the last remnants of sunlight disappeared on the horizon. The flames of the fire licked the wood, sending sparks into the air. “Why hasn’t he tried to see me?”
“He seems to think you were better off if he stayed away. If you ask me, it was the only sensible thing he had to say. But, if you want to see him, we can go at daybreak.”
Had she been wrong about Hank? Had he really not known that Saul and Walt had gone to deal with Jim Bennett—and her?
Tess nodded. “Yes. I’d like to see him. Why do you think he’s in the Dragoons?”
Cale shrugged. “I think he’s hunting for gold.”
“So he’s crazed, like Henry and Mariah said?”
“Maybe.”
Cale reached for her. “C’mon.” He stood, pulled her to her feet, and took her to the opposite side of camp. She settled on a pallet beside him, but they had little privacy with others nearby.
“Do you want me to look at your leg?” he asked.
“No. Cocheta gave me something for the pain.” Tess unlaced her boots and set them aside.
“What do you think of her?”
“She's...” Tess searched for the right word. “Solid. Of the earth.” She reclined beside Cale.
“In a way, you remind me of her.”
“Why is that?”
“You’re both a force of nature in your own right.”
Cale folded her against him, and she welcomed it. Amid the chaos of her emotions involving her padre, Cale was an anchor. She hadn’t had that for a long time.
In his arms, she slept.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tess awoke abruptly at daybreak. Cale was nowhere in sight, and the camp was in motion, almost frenzied. Something was wrong.
She quickly donned her boots and stood, pushing stray hair from her face that had escaped the braid. Pain shot through her left knee, and she winced.
Men gathered horses, dogs barked, and women piled belongings outside of their wickiups—blankets, baskets, clothing, and food.
The Blackbird Page 17
