Under Apache Skies

by Madeline Baker

  Muttering an oath, he gained his feet. When they returned to the ranch, he would do his damnedest to find out who killed Seamus Flynn, and then he d get the hell out of her life while he still could.

  The next few days passed uneventfully. Marty watched the Indian men and women as they went about their daily tasks. She had heard that the Apache were a stoic people, cruel to those they considered their enemy, and anyone not Apache was considered enemy. To her surprise, she found them to be a happy, fun-loving people. The children were adorable. The men appeared to be caring husbands and fathers. The women were like women everywhere, concerned with taking care of their homes, husbands, and children.

  She watched the women cook and clean, gather wood and water, nurse their young, do the sewing and the mending, and though their methods were primitive, they were not inferior.

  Earlier in the day, she had watched a group of six boys, perhaps ten years old, under the tutelage of two warriors. To her amazement, the boys had formed two lines some distance apart and then, fitting stones into rawhide slings, began to hurl them at one another, all the while dodging stones hurled at them. She remembered seeing several boys doing the same thing when she had first arrived. She realized now it was some form of training. One boy was struck in the cheek, another on the arm. Neither boy stopped, even though blood was running down the first boy’s cheek.

  When the boys finished with their slingshots, they took up small bows and arrows and began to shoot at each other. After that, the boys ran a footrace.

  Little wonder Apache warriors were so fierce, she thought, when they played such games as children!

  Her awareness of Ridge Longtree grew ever stronger. Every look, every touch, sent shivers of delight skittering through her. He was in her thoughts by day and her dreams by night. She tried not to stare at him, but it was impossible. He drew her gaze like a flame drew a moth. She loved looking at him, loved his smile, the deep blue of his eyes, the way he walked, the bold air of self-confidence that was as much a part of him as the color of his skin.

  She stayed close to his side, learning what she could of Apache ways, picking up a few words here and there. But always, in the back of her mind, was a nagging worry for her sister.

  She needed to know that Dani was all right. She needed to return to the ranch. That, she thought, would be a mixed blessing. When she got home, she would have to face her mother again, which was bad enough. Even worse, she would have to visit Cory’s parents and tell them that their son was never coming home. She thought of asking Reverend Waters to do it for her, and then dismissed the idea. Tempting as it might be, she would not take the cowardly way out. Still, it might be wise to ask the reverend to accompany her. Doreen Mulvaney and her husband would most likely have need of their minister at such a trying time.

  She looked over at Ridge. He was sitting in a circle with a half dozen other warriors playing some kind of gambling game. She envied him his ability to speak Apache. Her being unable to speak the language served only to make the gulf between herself and the Indians wider. Only so much could be communicated with hand gestures and facial expressions.

  She was mentally rehearsing the Apache words she had learned when there was a bit of a commotion near the center of the camp. Rising, she turned in that direction to see two people ride up.

  “Dani!” With a glad cry, she ran toward her sister. “Dani, thank God!”

  “Marty!” Dani slid off her horse’s back, laughing out loud as her sister hugged her so hard she feared her ribs might break. “I’m so glad to see you!”

  Marty drew back so she could see her sister’s face, and then frowned. “Are you all right?”

  “Never better,” Dani said, a blush rising in her cheeks.

  Marty glanced over at the warrior who had ridden in with her sister. He had dismounted and was staring at her, his expression impassive.

  Marty looked at Dani again. “Are you sure? He didn’t…didn’t…you know…?”

  Dani laughed as if Marty had said something funny.

  “Marty, this is Sanza. Sanza, this is my sister, Martha Jean.”

  Sanza nodded solemnly.

  “Does he speak English?” Marty asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh. Well, then, I’m…I’m pleased to meet you, Sanza,” Marty said, wondering if she should offer him her hand.

  He nodded again, but remained silent.

  “How did you get here?” Dani asked, her gaze darting around the camp. “Is Cory here?”

  “Ridge brought me,” Marty said. “Now that you’re here, we can go home.”

  Dani glanced at Sanza, then back at her sister. “Where’s Cory? Have you seen him? Is he all right? I’ve been so worried about him. I…” Dani’s voice trailed off when she saw the bleak expression on her sister’s face. “No. No. I don’t believe it.”

  “I’m sorry, Dani.”

  Dani shook her head. “No, not Cory,” she murmured, and then she turned to look at Sanza, as if he could make everything better.

  To Marty’s surprise, the warrior drew Dani into his arms. Bending down, he murmured something in her ear.

  Dani looked at Marty again. “How did he die?”

  “He tried to escape and…” Marty lifted one hand and let it fall. There was no need to say the rest.

  Tears welled in Dani’s eyes and slid silently down her cheeks.

  It was all too telling that she continued to stand in the circle of the warrior’s arms.

  “I’m sorry,” Marty said again. She looked at the warrior, noting the protective way he held Dani, and felt a sudden coldness in the pit of her stomach.

  “What’s going on?”

  Marty glanced over her shoulder to see Ridge coming up behind her.

  He took in the scene at a glance. There was no need for an explanation. Everything that had been said was easily read in Dani’s tears, in the solemn expression on Sanza’s face, in the look of disbelief in Martha Jean’s eyes.

  Ridge looked at Dani again, at the way she clung to Sanza, her body pressed intimately against his. Unless he missed his guess, Danielle Flynn wouldn’t be going back to the ranch anytime soon, if at all.

  Marty stared at her sister. They were alone in Ridge’s wickiup. Sensing that the sisters needed some time alone, Sanza had gone to look after his horses and Ridge had gone back to his game.

  “What do you mean, you aren’t going back to the ranch with us?” Marty exclaimed.

  “Just what I said. I’m staying here with Sanza.”

  “But why?” Marty asked, though she was afraid she already knew the answer.

  “I love him.”

  Marty blew out a sigh. It was just as she had feared.

  “And we’re married.”

  Marty stared at her sister. “Married! That’s impossible.”

  “No,” Dani said, a dreamy look in her eyes, “it’s not. Oh, Marty, he’s so wonderful.”

  “Who married you? When? Where?”

  “We sort of married each other. He offered me his horses, and I accepted.” Dani shrugged, her smile widening. “And now we’re married.”

  “No,” Marty said curtly. “You’re not.”

  “Yes, we are, whether you like it or not. I’m his wife in the Apache way. In every way.”

  Marty groaned softly. It was even worse than she had imagined. Reaching out, she captured her sister’s hands with her own. “Dani, how could you?”

  “He’s wonderful, that’s how. He’s sweet and tender and he loves me.”

  “Where are you going to live?”

  “Here, of course. With my husband.”

  Marty sighed, wondering how she would ever convince Dani to leave this place. And then she grinned. Of course. She had the one thing Dani couldn’t resist waiting for them at home, something Sanza could never give her.

  “Nettie’s waiting for you at the ranch.”

  Dani stared at her, her eyes wide with disbelief—and hope. “Mama’s here?”

  Marty nodded
. “She arrived the day after you disappeared.”

  “Mama.” Tears welled in Dani’s eyes and trickled down her cheeks. “Oh Marty, I never thought we’d see her again. How does she look? Is she all right?”

  “She looks the same, a little older, that’s all. She’s worried about you.”

  Wiping the tears from her eyes, Dani jumped to her feet. “How soon can we leave?”

  Sanza frowned at his wife. “What do you mean, you are leaving?”

  After Dani’s tearful reunion with her sister, he had brought Dani to his wickiup so they could clean up from their journey. He had been eager to get her alone, waiting for the time when he could hold her in his arms again, when he could lose himself in her soft, womanly warmth. “Does this have anything to do with the boy’s death?”

  Dani shook her head. “No, of course not. It isn’t your fault that…that Cory’s dead.”

  “But you blame my people?”

  “Well, yes, in a way, but that’s not why I have to go,” Dani said. “My mother’s come home. I haven’t seen her since I was a little girl.” She smiled up at him, her eyes shining with excitement. “I can’t believe she’s come back after all these years.”

  He nodded, his face devoid of emotion. She was his woman, his wife. Now that she was his, he would not keep her here against her will.

  “When will you go?” he asked, his voice hard and flat.

  “Tomorrow morning… What do you mean, when will I go? Aren’t you coming with me?”

  “No.” He turned his back to her. “My place is here.”

  “But I thought… You have to come with me! You’re my husband.”

  He grunted softly. “Your sister does not approve of me, or of our marriage. Your mother will not approve either.”

  “I don’t care what they think! I approve!” She moved to stand in front of him, tilting her head back so she could see his face. “Say you’ll come with me.”

  “No, Da-ni.” He gazed deep into her eyes. “I do not belong in your world.”

  You do not belong in mine. The words, unspoken, hovered in the air between them.

  “She’s my mother,” Dani said, her voice thick with unshed tears. “I have to see her. Don’t you understand?”

  “I understand.”

  “But you won’t come with me?”

  “No.”

  She stared at him while the tears she had been holding back spilled down her cheeks. “Then I won’t go.”

  “Da-ni.” Whispering her name, he drew her into his arms, one hand stroking her hair, her back. It grieved him to think he had caused her tears. How could he refuse her?

  Gently, he wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Do not weep, Da-ni. I will take you home.”

  She looked up at him, smiling through her tears. And then she threw her arms around him and kissed him. And it was a long time before either of them thought of anything else but the fire that burned between them.

  Sitting cross-legged on a buffalo robe in his wickiup, Ridge watched Martha Jean pace the floor.

  “Can you believe it?” she exclaimed. “She married him! Ha! Married. They married each other.” She shook her head. “He gave her some horses and now they’re married, just like that.”

  “It’s the way of my people,” Ridge said calmly.

  “Well, it’s not our way!”

  He shrugged, thinking how pretty she looked with her dander up and her eyes blazing.

  “She’ll forget all about him once we get her back home.”

  He lifted one brow, but said nothing.

  “She will!”

  “And if she doesn’t? What are you going to do, lock her in her room?”

  “If I have to,” she declared, and then her shoulders sagged. “What am I going to do?”

  “I don’t see as how there’s much of anything you can do.”

  “But she’s just a child.”

  “Not anymore,” Ridge said. There was no mistaking the way Dani had looked at Sanza, no doubt in his mind that they were man and wife in every way. “She’s a woman now, whether you like it or not.”

  “Nettie will be mortified.”

  “She’ll get over it.”

  “Oh, you!” Marty glared at him, her eyes flashing. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you? What will people think when they find out Dani’s married to an Apache? What will Cory’s parents think? Oh, Lord, how am I ever going to tell Doreen that he’s dead?”

  Rising, he drew her into his arms. “You can’t worry about what other people think, Martha Jean. Your sister has to live her own life, and so do you. She made her decision and now she’ll have to live with it, same as everybody else. If she really loves him, they’ll work out the differences between them…”

  He paused, wondering if he really believed that. What about the differences between himself and Martha Jean? Could they be worked out? Or were some things beyond fixing?

  With a sigh, she rested her head against his shoulder. “Maybe you’re right.”

  Ridge grunted softly. Only time would tell.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Later that night, after the camp was dark, Marty lay in her blankets, unable to sleep. Staring up at the handful of stars that were visible through the smoke hole of the wickiup, she tried not to think of her little sister sharing a bed with an Apache warrior. But the harder she tried not to think about it, the more impossible it was. Were they making love, even now?

  Marty thought of the times Ridge Longtree had taken her in his arms, the way her body had instantly responded to his kisses, warmed to his touch. She wasn’t sure why it seemed right for her to have those feelings and wrong for Dani. She supposed it was because Dani was younger, because she had looked after Dani for so long. Her sister had always been younger than her years, innocent of life’s harsher lessons.

  Marty blew out a breath. Well, Dani wasn’t innocent any longer. Looking at her sister, there was no doubt that Dani was head over heels in love with the man who had kidnapped her and taken her virginity. No doubt at all. She and Dani had talked earlier that evening, and Marty had to admit that she had never seen her sister looking happier, or more beautiful. Dani’s eyes fairly sparkled with love and a newfound enthusiasm for life. In fact, her whole face seemed to glow as though lit from a fire within.

  Dani’s initial eagerness to go home had cooled somewhat. Even though she was anxious to see her mother, Dani had decided she was going to stay with the Apache for a few weeks, saying that she wanted to spend some time with Sanza’s people before she left.

  “We’ll be along soon,” Dani had said. “Don’t worry.”

  Marty sighed again, disturbed by the niggling thought that she was jealous of her sister’s happiness, jealous that she had the right to be intimate with the man she loved. Marty knew what it was like to want a man. She longed to surrender to Ridge, to let him teach her the ways of intimacy, to unlock the mysteries between a man and a woman. But no matter how badly she wanted him, she wasn’t willing to give in, wasn’t willing to give a passing stranger that which should, by right, belong to her husband.

  She longed to talk to Dani, to ask her what it had been like on her wedding night. Was it as bad as they had feared? Or as wonderful as they had hoped?

  She flopped over on her stomach and punched the robe she had rolled up to use for a pillow. There was no way she would go to her little sister for answers! Dani had always come to her.

  “You gonna settle down anytime soon?” Ridge’s voice pierced the stillness.

  “Sorry. I didn’t know I was keeping you awake.”

  He grunted softly. “What’s keeping you awake? As if I didn’t know.”

  She rolled onto her side and peered across the wickiup. In the faint light of the coals, she could see that Ridge was staring back at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. Go to sleep.”

  “Humph!”

  “Got you all hot and bothered, doesn’t it?”

  “I don’t k
now what you mean!”

  “Is that right? So it doesn’t bother you at all that your little sister’s sharing Sanza’s lodge, or that he’s probably making love to her right now.”

  “Of course not!”

  His silence mocked her.

  “Why should it bother me? They’re… All right, it bothers me. They’re not even legally married!”

  “They’re married according to the laws of my people.”

  “Well, according to the laws of my people, they’re not. And Sanza’s not even—”

  “Not even white,” Ridge finished for her, his voice blade-sharp.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said sullenly.

  “If it’ll make you feel better, they can always get married again when she gets home.”

  “There isn’t a preacher or a priest in the whole town who would marry the two of them, and you know it.” Thinking about a preacher brought Cory to mind. His parents wouldn’t even have the comfort of a funeral. “Ridge?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What did the Indians do with Cory’s body?”

  “Buried it, I reckon. Why?”

  “I was thinking about his folks. They’ll never know where their son was laid to rest, never be able to visit his grave.”

  “Happens to a lot of families in the West. Men get killed in battle or lost out in the desert. Sometimes their bodies are never found.”

  “It just isn’t fair. Cory never hurt anybody.” Marty shook her head. “Poor Cory. Dani got over him mighty quick.”

  “Puppy love,” Ridge said. “That’s all it was.” Sitting up, he stirred the coals, then added a few sticks to the firepit. The kindling caught quickly. Flames licked at the dry wood and he added a few larger pieces.

  Marty sat up, too, the blankets tucked under her arms. “She wanted to marry Cory; at least that’s what she said. I’ll bet that’s what they were doing out there the night they were captured, getting ready to run off and elope.”

  “She’s young. At that age, it’s easy to confuse puppy love with the real thing.”

  “So how do you know that what she feels for Sanza is the real thing?”