Dusty sighed and tossed his napkin on the table.
“Something wrong, Son?” Ryder asked.
“Ned Greenway died this morning. There’s some talk of getting a posse together and going after Chase.”
Jenny sent a worried glance at her son. “You mean a lynch mob, don’t you?”
“Berland and Crenshaw are behind it.”
“I can’t imagine those two having the gumption to start anything,” Jenny exclaimed.
“Me, either,” Dusty said, “but they were at the saloon most of the day, stirring up trouble.”
“Why didn’t you arrest them?”
“For what? There’s no law against talkin’ in a saloon.”
“What about inciting a riot?”
“They weren’t inciting a riot, Mother,” Dusty said, grinning in spite of himself.
“Seems mighty suspicious to me,” Ryder mused. “In fact, it seemed mighty suspicious to me that they were out in Piney Hollow that night.”
“There’s no law against coon huntin’, either,” Dusty pointed out.
“I know.” Ryder swore softly. “Maybe the two of us ought to ride out after him.”
“And then what?”
Ryder shook his head. “I don’t know. If he does as planned, he’ll hole up in Rainbow Canyon until he hears from one of us.”
A muscle twitched in Dusty’s cheek as he imagined Beth and Chase living together in the canyon, just the two of them. Jealousy rose up within him as he imagined Beth in his brother’s arms, imagined his brother holding her, kissing her… With an oath, he stood up, his hands clenched at his sides.
“Dusty, what’s wrong?” Jenny asked, alarmed at the fierce expression on her son’s face.
“Nothing, Mother. Thanks for supper.” Turning away from the table, he plucked his hat from the hook by the back door. “I’m gonna spend the night in town.”
“Dusty…” She stood up, intending to follow him out the door.
“Let him go, Jenny.”
“But…”
“Let him go.”
With a sigh, Jenny sat back down. “He’s hurting, Ryder. It pains me to see him like this.”
“There’s nothing you can do, Jenny girl. He’s got to work this out for himself.”
Chapter Twelve
Beth felt a thrill of excitement as she followed Chase through the narrow passageway that led into Rainbow Canyon.
Once, hundreds of untamed Apaches had lived in this place. Was it merely her imagination, or could she really feel their disapproval as she rode into their ancient stronghold?
She stared in wonder at the craggy cliffs that surrounded the verdant valley. In the distance, she saw a winding river. A stand of tall timber provided shade and firewood.
She slid a glance at Chase the Wind. He seemed to belong here, in this wild place.
He reined his horse to a halt near the river. Dismounting, he turned and lifted her from the saddle.
“We will camp here,” he said.
They spent the next few minutes unsaddling their horses. Then, while she arranged their bedrolls, he removed their supplies from the packhorse. When that was done, he turned the horses loose.
“I will build a shelter for us,” Chase said.
“And I’ll fix something to eat.”
He looked at her for a long moment, his expression shuttered, and then, taking an ax from the supplies stacked on the ground, he turned away. She watched him walk toward the trees, admiring the way he walked, his long legs eating up the distance. Sunlight glinted in his hair. Such beautiful hair for a man, she thought. Long and straight, it reached his waist, flowing down his back like a waterfall of dark silk. She touched her own hair. How often had she wished for hair like his, hair as black as night?
She watched him until he was out of sight, and then she turned back to the pile of foodstuffs. Humming softly, she began to sort through the sacks and tins, wondering how long their food would last, and what they’d do when it was gone.
Hidden behind a tree, Chase watched Beth. What was he going to do with her? She seemed to look on his exile as some kind of great adventure. He should never have brought her here, and yet he was glad for her presence. He watched her walk along the riverbank, admiring the unconsciously graceful way she moved, the sway of her hips, the curve of her breasts.
A thin thread of desire spiraled through him as she removed her shoes and stockings, lifted her skirts to her knees and waded into the water. She stood there a moment, her head tilted back, her face lifted to the sun.
After a time, she returned to the shore and began gathering rocks.
And he continued to watch her, noting the way the sun danced in her hair, making it sparkle like molten gold, the way her skirts swished about her ankles as she made her way downriver.
She smiled with obvious delight when she spied a squirrel peeking from beneath a fallen log near the river. Kneeling, she spent a few moments trying to coax it from under the deadfall.
Failing that, she went back to the task at hand until she had an armful of rocks, and then she turned and headed back the way she’d come. Every move she made seemed to entice him. He looked at her, and saw perfection. And seeing it, wanted to touch her, to taste her, to draw her deep into himself. He knew, somehow, that she had the power to erase the ghosts from his past.
With a sigh, he drew his gaze from the girl and walked deeper into the timber, searching for a tree that would suit his purpose. A short time later, he found what he was looking for. Stripping off his shirt, he took up the ax. Some hard physical labor was just what he needed…
Beth looked toward the timber as the sound of an ax striking wood rang out in the silence. For some reason, the thought of Chase cutting wood made her smile. Perhaps because it seemed like such a domestic task, and he was far from being domestic.
Putting the last rock in place, she took a step back and contemplated the circle of rocks she had made. The rocks were all of a size, placed in a perfect circle around a shallow pit.
“Not bad for the first time,” she thought, pleased with her efforts.
With a nod of satisfaction, she picked up one of the canteens and headed for the woods, drawn by the sound of the ax, and by the prospect of seeing Chase. Never before had she been drawn to a man in such a compelling way. He was a stranger and yet she felt as though she had been waiting for him all her life. One look at his face, and she had known he was her destiny. It made no sense. She could not explain it.
She threaded her way through the trees, the sound of the ax growing louder, until she came to an abrupt halt, her gaze fixed on Chase. He swung the heavy ax with agile strength. He had braided his hair to keep it out of the way. He had removed his shirt, exposing his broad back. For a moment, she could only stare at the powerful muscles that rippled beneath the smooth copper-hued skin. Beads of sweat trickled down his spine. Her gaze drifted slowly down his back, over the bandage wrapped around his middle, to his lean hips and muscular thighs.
“Oh, my.” The words whispered past the lump in her throat as he turned toward her. “Oh, my.”
He drove the blade of the ax into a log. Sweat glistened on his brow and dampened his chest. She felt her mouth go dry, curled her hands into tight fists to keep from reaching out to touch him. He was by far the most beautiful creature she had ever seen.
“Did you want something?” His voice was low and husky and slightly breathless.
“No. Yes. I mean…” She shrugged. “I just wanted to see you.”
I want to touch you, she thought, feeling a little breathless herself.
I want to hold you, he thought, his body feeling suddenly heavy with desire.
Tension stretched between them, humming like an electrical wire.
“Are you thirsty?” She held out the canteen, grateful for an excuse to break the silence.
He reached for the canteen, his fingers brushing hers. For a moment, he gazed deeply into her eyes, and then, uncapping the canteen, he took a long dri
nk, wishing the cool water could cool his desire as it eased his thirst.
“Thank you.” He returned the canteen, his fingers brushing hers again, but this time he caught her hand in his. Fire raced up his arm and settled in his heart. “Beth.”
She stared at him, her dark eyes wide and uncertain. “Do you feel it?” she asked, her voice sounding foreign to her ears.
He nodded.
“I’ve never felt like this before,” she confessed. “It frightens me.”
“I will not hurt you.”
“I know. It’s not you I’m afraid of. It’s…it’s me. I…”
“You have changed your mind about being here with me?”
“No! No, I…” Lifting her free hand, she placed it on his chest, over his heart. “I want to be with you. I love you.”
Her words slammed into him with the force of a blow. “You must not.”
“You don’t have to love me back.”
How could he help it? Unable to resist, he took the canteen from her hand and tossed it aside and then, with a low groan of surrender, he drew her into his arms.
“Beth, what are we to do?”
“I don’t know.” She looked into his eyes, her heart racing. She’d never felt this way before. It was like standing on the brink of a high cliff and knowing one wrong move would send her plummeting over the edge. In spite of the danger, she wanted to reach out and grab for what she wanted even as a part of her warned that, once committed, there would be no going back.
As if reading her doubts, Chase drew in a deep breath, and then took a step back.
“Perhaps we need to get to know each other before we make any decisions about the future,” he suggested, certain that, in time, she would realize she didn’t belong here, with him, that she belonged with her own people.
Beth nodded. Maybe he was right. Maybe they should get to know each other better. “I’ll go fix dinner,” she said.
Chase nodded, his expression thoughtful as he watched her walk away. He never should have brought her here.
* * * * *
By nightfall, he had erected a crude peeled-pole shelter. A small but cozy fire burned in the center of the lean-to; there was a good-sized pile of firewood stacked outside.
Sitting cross-legged on his bedroll in front of the fire, Chase rubbed his shoulder. He had chopped firewood until it got too dark to see what he was doing, taking a break only to eat the meal Beth had prepared.
“Here, let me.”
He looked up to find her watching him. A half-smile touched her lips as she gestured at his shoulders. “I could massage your back for you.”
He shook his head. The last thing he needed was her hands on him.
“You deserve it,” she insisted. “I’ve never seen anyone work so hard.”
He started to protest, but before he could form the words, she was kneeling behind him, her hands kneading his shoulders.
Soft hands. Warm hands. Moving from his shoulders to his back, massaging his biceps, the back of his neck. Sending shivers of pleasure spiraling through him.
His head fell forward and he groaned softly as he imagined her hands touching his chest, his thighs.
“Is something wrong?” Beth asked, her hands resting on his shoulders.
“No.” He forced the word through clenched teeth.
“I thought maybe I’d hurt you.”
It hurt, he thought, in ways she couldn’t begin to imagine.
He clamped his lips together as she moved closer, her breasts grazing his back as her fingers began to massage his scalp.
With a wordless cry, he jumped to his feet, careful to keep his back to her lest she see how her touched affected him.
“Chase?”
“Go to bed,” he said gruffly. “I’m going out to check on the horses.”
Grabbing his shirt, he left the shelter, his heart pounding like a war drum.
Outside, he drew in several deep breaths. How could he be with her and not touch her? How could he feel this way for a white woman? His whole body burned for her. He thought of the story of the bird and the fish who fell in love but could not live together and knew his love for Beth could never be. Like the bird and the fish, they came from different worlds, and no matter how much he might want to share her life, he would never fit in. And even if she could adapt to his world, he had nowhere to take her, and nothing to offer.
He could not send her home alone, and he could not take her back to Twin Rivers himself. He would just have to wait and hope that Dusty found the horse thief soon, that Ryder would come to Rainbow Canyon and tell him it was safe for them to leave.
Until then, he would have to be careful not to get close to her, or let her get close to him.
His decision made, he checked the hobbles on the horses, then took a long walk along the river, giving her plenty of time to get to sleep.
* * * * *
He woke to the scent of bacon frying. Rolling out of his bedroll, he went to the door and peered outside.
Beth was sitting on a rock, turning bacon in a big black skillet. Sunlight poured over her; he could hear her humming softly.
She turned at the sound of his footsteps. “Good morning,” she said brightly. “Isn’t it a beautiful day?”
Chase nodded as he sat down across from her.
“I don’t know who packed for you, but they were thorough.” In addition to the frying pan, there was a coffeepot and a Dutch oven, as well as enough food to feed an army for a month.
He nodded again, noticing how her hair gleamed in the sunlight.
“Of course, there’s only one plate, one knife and fork and spoon, and one cup, so we’ll have to share.”
His mouth went dry as he imagined eating from a spoon she had used, putting his mouth where hers had been.
“I will use my knife and eat from the pan,” he said.
“Don’t be silly.”
He didn’t argue, could only stare at her, thinking again how beautiful she was, wondering why she had left her comfortable home to run away with him.
“Did you like living here?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She looked up, glancing at the high purple cliffs that surrounded the valley. “It’s pretty, but kind of…I don’t know. Intimidating.”
Chase frowned. “Intimidating? I do not know that word.”
“It means scary. I’d hate to be here alone. I know it’s silly, but last night it seemed like I could hear voices.”
“The spirits of the dead do not rest in peace.”
“Spirits!”
Chase nodded. “Many of my people were killed here. Sometimes you can hear their spirits crying for vengeance.”
His words sent a shiver racing down Beth’s spine. She’d never given much thought to ghosts before, but Chase sounded as if he believed there really were such things.
Chase insisted she eat first, then took the plate from her hand, all too aware that she had eaten from the same plate, used the same spoon.
He ate quickly, then stood up. “I am going hunting,” he said. “Stay close to the shelter until I come back.”
“You’re going to leave me here, alone?”
“You will be all right.” He went into the lean-to and returned carrying a pistol he had found in one of the saddlebags. “Do you know how to use a gun?”
She looked at the weapon as if it might bite her. “No.”
The hunt would have to wait. Unloading the gun, he handed it to her.
“It’s heavy,” Beth said.
“Yes.”
Moving behind her, he stretched out his arm, then folded his hand around hers. The moment he touched her, every nerve ending in his body came alive.
In clipped tones, he instructed her in how to aim and fire the weapon, but on a deeper level, he was only aware of the girl standing so close. She smelled of smoke and bacon, of sunshine and woman. Her hand was small and soft, and when he felt her trembling, he wondered if his nearness was affecting her as well.
“That will do for now,” Chase said. “We can practice more tomorrow.”
She followed him to the lean-to, stood in the doorway while he picked up the rifle and a handful of ammunition. “How long will you be gone?”
“As long as it takes.”
“What are you after?”
Chase shrugged. “A deer. A rabbit. Anything. We need fresh meat to make our supplies last longer.”
“I’ll make some soup stock,” Beth said, “and we can add the meat when you get back.”
With a nod, he turned away, unable to ignore the domestic quality of the moment. He would hunt, and she would prepare his kill, and later, they would share it.
He risked a glance over his shoulder as he saddled the roan, praying that Ryder would come for him quickly. Praying that he would never come.
Chapter Thirteen
A growing sound of unrest drew Dusty from the office. Picking up his hat, he went outside, a sense of dread moving through him as he saw the men gathered outside.
“What’s going on?” he asked, though he knew, deep inside, what the answer would be.
“We’re goin’ after the Injun,” Sean Harvey said.
“I said I’d take care of that,” Dusty replied, his gaze sweeping the crowd. He counted a dozen men, all heavily armed. He saw Rebecca standing across the street and hoped she had the good sense to go inside before things got ugly.
“Don’t look like you’re doin’ much,” Joby Berland retorted. He glanced around, as if to make sure he had the backing of the crowd. “The redskin escaped days ago, and you ain’t done nothin’ yet.”
“Joby’s right,” Alan Kelton called.
A rising murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.
“Maybe you’re draggin’ yer heels ’cause that murderer’s part Injun,” suggested a man from the back of the crowd.
“That you, Rance?” Dusty said. “Why don’t you come up here and say it to my face?”
The crowd parted as Crenshaw shoved his way to the front.
Chase the Wind (Apache Runaway Book 2) Page 11
