“I’m tellin’ you I saw the man, just sittin’ up there watchin’ us. He must have known what was comin’, or he would have warned us instead of sneakin’ in here a couple of nights ago and out again without a word! That bastard had already reached Wild Horse. He had to know Wild Horse planned to circle around and attack us. It’s Wade Morrow’s fault my best friend is dead!”
Corporal Deaver stood in Captain Howell’s office, putting on a fine show of anger and sorrow over Tony Enders’s death. Howell turned his eyes to Jennifer, who had been half-dragged to his office by Lieutenant Brown, whose grip on her upper arm had left a bruise that still hurt her. The three men, as well as another sergeant and another lieutenant all stared at Jennifer as though she were dirt, and she felt her cheeks tingle with her own fury at how she had been treated and the accusations Deaver was making against Wade.
“If he had known, he would have warned you,” she said calmly and firmly to Howell.
“I brought you over here because I want the truth this time,” the man growled. “What were Wade Morrow’s plans? Did he come to see you personally the other night? What did he tell you?”
Jennifer couldn’t help feeling sorry for the tattered men who had ridden into the fort only thirty minutes or so earlier. They had been gone two nights. With what Jennifer had just heard, she knew Wade was with Wild Horse, and she knew the hope of his surviving that was not very strong.
“If Wade was sitting and watching,” she told Howell, “then I’m certain he was being held against his will. Wild Horse wants him dead.” She wondered how she was managing to keep from screaming and weeping. Wade! He was in Wild Horse’s hands! He would never have sat and watched the massacre of the soldiers.
“Wild Horse is his brother,” Deaver sneered. “He made an agreement to help the man. Comanche blood runs thick!”
Jennifer moved her eyes to meet his boldly, ignoring the contempt she saw there. “Not when the Comanche involved are twins,” she answered. “You know that as well as anyone.” She looked back at Howell. “Wade’s only intention in coming here in the first place was just as he had told you—he was looking for his roots among the Comanche. He has that right. He never wanted any trouble for the Comanche or for you and your men. He would no more have led your men into a trap than he would have helped capture Wild Horse. His mission was very personal. If anyone has been betrayed, it’s Wade—by you, and by Wild Horse. As far as why he came to see me in the night, he was trying to protect me from the ridicule of ignorant, prejudiced men who he knew might turn on me if they knew about us.” She kept her voice strong. “I love Wade Morrow, Captain Howell. He’s a fine, educated, successful man, very generous, very caring.”
Deaver let out a hiss of disgust, and one of the other men snickered, while the rest just glared at Jennifer in disbelief at her words.
“Right now it’s quite possible that he’s dead, or being tortured and goaded into fighting Wild Horse,” Jennifer went on, keeping her eyes on Howell. “Alice told me how it will be for him, and I believe her. I think you know yourself what will happen. Surely you understand Comanche ways. Wild Horse wants Wade dead, and it must be by his own hands. Wade doesn’t want to fight him, but Wild Horse will find a way to make him fight. As far as the attack on your men, Wild Horse must have suspected you might have Wade followed, or perhaps he didn’t trust Wade. Maybe he thought Wade would bring soldiers, the same as you’re thinking he helped Wild Horse. Wade has been caught in the middle, Captain. He’s an innocent man.”
The tears finally made their way into her eyes, one trickling down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away. “Can’t you…can’t you go after Wild Horse, take more men and follow him? Can’t you seek out his camp? Alice said it’s the soldiers’ duty to pursue the Comanche.”
“We don’t have enough men left,” the captain answered. “With the time it took getting back here to regroup, we’ll never find Wild Horse now. He can make himself disappear like the wind.” He studied the very beautiful Jennifer Andrews, finding her love for Wade Morrow incredible, but finding his own feelings mixed. She seemed very sincere in her love, and he had to agree Wade Morrow was a well-spoken man who had seemed quite civilized. Still, he was an Indian. He sighed deeply, ordering Deaver and the others to leave.
“I say Wade Morrow ought to be hanged if he shows up here again,” Deaver grumbled. “I wouldn’t doubt the shot that killed Tony Enders came from his own gun! Who would have better reason to kill Tony than Morrow? Tony wanted to marry the man’s…” He turned ugly eyes on Jennifer. “Woman,” he finished, a distinct dirty suggestion in the way he said it.
Jennifer faced him. “Wade would never deliberately murder any man,” she told Deaver, her voice rising. “I daresay he’s a thousand times more civilized than you will ever be, Corporal Deaver, with your slovenly ways and your ignorant attitude! How far did you go in school, Corporal. Can you even read? How about your background? Why did you volunteer for duty in this desolate place? Could it be you’re running from the law, Corporal?”
“I told you to leave, Deaver,” Howell spoke up.
Deaver kept his eyes on Jennifer, and what she saw there gave her chills. “Sure,” he answered with a sneer. “I’ll leave. But ask Miss Andrews why she’s sheddin’ tears for a half-breed, when she’s just found out that the man she was supposed to marry is dead, layin’ out there, probably bein’ butchered up by the Comanche. For all she knows her civilized Mr. Morrow is wearin’ Tony’s scalp on his belt right now!”
“That’s enough, Corporal,” Howell shouted. “Get out now or I’ll have you arrested and whipped for insubordination!”
It was all Jennifer could do to keep from lashing out at Deaver for his crude remark. The man turned and saluted Howell, then stormed out with the others. The door closed, and Jennifer was suddenly alone with Captain Howell. She turned her eyes to meet his own.
“I never held any special feelings for Sergeant Enders,” she told the man. “I answered his letter sincerely, and I had every intention of getting to know him and marrying him. But my coming here was always with the understanding that it would be my decision. I found the man crude and unclean. I found nothing about him to love. I would have felt exactly the same way whether or not I had ever met Wade Morrow. I am sincerely sorry he is dead, Captain, but I don’t mourn him any more deeply than the others. I’m sorry about all of them. I truly am. But I swear to you Wade would never have had a hand in leading you and your men into a trap.” She glanced at a dirty rag that was tied around the Captain’s upper left arm, which showed fresh bloodstains. “You should let Alice and me tend to your arm.”
The man sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll be all right. We have a medic, although I’m not so sure he’s an honest-to-God doctor. I never sent him to you because you were apparently healing fine and you had Alice. I figured at that time the last thing you needed was another strange man tending to you.”
He sat down wearily in his chair. “Sit down, Miss Andrews.” Jennifer obeyed. “My biggest problem now is what to do with you,” the man continued. “With the men knowing about you and Wade Morrow, you can’t stay here. Not only are you single and attractive, but you’ve lost the respect the men held for you. I hate to be so blunt, and I’m not saying it’s my own opinion. But those men out there are damn mad, and they’re blaming part of this on you.” He leaned forward. “I lost twelve men, Miss Andrews, with ten more wounded, a couple of them not expected to live. Only eight of us came out unscathed or with minor injuries. In their minds, all this stemmed from Wade Morrow coming here.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she answered firmly. “Who gave the order that Wade be followed in the first place?” She could tell by the look on his face Howell was the culprit. “If Wade had been left alone to tend to his own personal business, none of this would have happened,” she told the man. “This is your fault, Captain, not Wade’s!”
“I have a duty to hunt down and capture Wild Horse,” he said, irritation in his vo
ice. “The man has bloodied the whole Texas frontier.”
“I am aware of that! But what you do out of duty shouldn’t be blamed on an innocent man!”
Their eyes met challengingly. Howell leaned back in his chair then. “All I’m telling you is how the men see it. They know I ordered Morrow to be followed. They knew my intentions. But they think Morrow betrayed them—betrayed me. Nothing I can say will change their minds.”
Her eyes teared more. Wade! What was happening to him? “I’m sure it won’t,” she said, a note of defeat in her voice. She dabbed lightly at tears with her handkerchief. “The day you and your men rode out after Wade, I wired Wade’s family in California. If none of the lines have been cut, they should have gotten word by now. Wade’s white brothers, or at least some of his father’s men are headed this way to—” Her voice choked, and she took a deep breath to stay in control. “To bring some freight wagons to Galveston and pick up some merchandise from a merchant in New Orleans. Wade…” Oh, how it hurt to even say his name. “Wade told me that if I got word to them, they would come by here and take me with them…that I could go back to California with them and his…parents…would help me. I have nowhere else to turn. For personal reasons I will not go back to my uncle.”
“Did Sergeant Enders tell you about your uncle’s telegram forbidding him to marry you?”
Jennifer frowned. “No.”
“The man wanted me to send you back. He said if you were already married he would pay Enders any sum of money for an annulment. I told Enders it was his business. I have better things to do than worry about young women who have run away from home. I don’t know your reason for doing what you did, Miss Andrews, and I wasn’t going to make you leave. But things have changed now.” He rubbed at his arm. “I’ll let you stay on until some of Mr. Morrow’s men come for you. If they don’t show up within another week, two at the most, you’ve got to leave. Where you go is your business, but I’ll play hell keeping trouble away until then.”
“But it’s dangerous right now. The stagecoach isn’t even running on a regular schedule. Wade told me I’m supposed to wait for him to come for me, or his family.” Her voice choked again.
“If what Alice says and what I know about the Comanche is true, Miss Andrews, I doubt that the man is coming back. I’m sorry, but everything else aside, even if Mr. Morrow tried to befriend Wild Horse, and even if he did help lead those soldiers into a trap, maybe to show Wild Horse his loyalty, it won’t likely change Wild Horse’s determination to kill the man. Unless Wade Morrow is awfully good at hand-to-hand combat with a Comanche man, I would forget about your feelings for him and get on with your life.”
He said the words matter-of-factly, as though it would be a simple thing to do, as though Wade were just a passing acquaintance. How little he knew! They had shared more than friendship, more than just words of love. She had been a part of him, and he a part of her. She had given herself to Wade Morrow in rapture, and he had tenderly made a woman of her, taking her into the depths of passion and fulfilling their love in the most intimate, most wonderful way a woman could experience. Now she was supposed to just forget about the man?
She rose wearily from the chair. “I will leave as soon as it is safe,” she told Howell, her voice dull. “I am hoping Wade’s family will come through soon. I will relieve you of the terrible burden I impose on you, Captain.”
She walked out without another word, holding her head proudly as she walked back to Alice’s cabin, while she felt a hundred pairs of eyes on her. How she made it to the cabin, she wasn’t sure, but once there she collapsed into tears on the cot. Wade! Oh, to hear his voice again, to feel his arms around her. All she had left was the memory of that last stolen kiss, deep in the night.
She felt a hand on her shoulder then. “I’m going to see if I can help the doctor,” Alice told her. “They blame Mr. Morrow, don’t they?”
“Yes,” Jennifer sobbed. “It was awful, Alice, the things Jim Deaver said. Tony’s dead, but Wade is the one…I mourn for. Deaver saw him…with Wild Horse. Oh, Alice, I know he was being held against his will. I know he didn’t have anything to do with Howell’s men…or Tony…getting killed. He’s going to die. He’s going to die, and I’ll never see him again.”
“I’m sorry, Jenny.” The woman touched her hair. “I’m going to see what I can do. You had better stay right here. Don’t go out alone. We’ll talk when I get back.”
Jennifer heard the woman leave, and the tears came even harder. Even Alice didn’t fully understand her agony; even Alice, who had lost a husband, didn’t realize her own loss seemed just as great, for in her heart, and in body, Wade Morrow had been her husband; but for such a short, sweet time. She was alone again, more alone than she had ever been before.
Wade could no longer feel his hands, numb from the tight rawhide bindings around his wrists. His stomach ached from hunger and his mouth was like sandpaper from lack of water. Wild Horse led his horse and the other warriors followed. They had ridden all day after the battle and into part of the night. The rest of the night had been spent on the cold ground without food or water or a blanket, and Wade realized he was being treated no differently than any other Comanche captive. Wild Horse was determined to make Wade hate him, and he was doing a good job of it.
Now they approached a camp bigger than Wade had expected to see. There were a few women present, and a smattering of children; but mostly it seemed that between the forty or so warriors who rode with Wild Horse and the ten or fifteen who waited at the campsite, Wild Horse’s following was made up of men, hardly one over the age of thirty. They were young, angry, frustrated men who could not bring themselves to settle into the sedentary life on a reservation. All they needed was someone like Wild Horse to keep their blood hot.
Once inside the village, women and children and more men gathered around Wade. Wild Horse pushed him from his horse, and without the use of his hands, Wade fell hard onto his shoulder. The others stayed back from him as though afraid to touch him.
“Let him eat and drink,” Wild Horse told Aguila. “I want him to be strong. I will give him a day to recover before I begin to teach him about pain!” The man turned to the others as Aguila helped Wade up and finally cut the ties at his wrists. “We have won a great victory against the bluecoats,” Wild Horse was shouting. “Here you see my brother weak and beaten—my captive! Here is proof I have the stronger spirit! Soon I will let you decide how he will suffer. He will not fight me, but I will make him want to fight me, and you will help. Then I will defeat this evil spirit, and we will be even stronger!”
The man held up his lance, the others held up fists and weapons, yipping and howling, some of them dancing.
“Tonight we hold a victory dance,” Wild Horse told them. “Build a fire!”
There was more shouting and celebrating. Warriors held up soldiers’ jackets and held up lances with fresh scalps attached to them. Wild Horse walked up to Wade, meeting his eyes. “My dead wives and children celebrate tonight. I can feel it—here.” He put a fist to his heart. “When white men are killed, they rejoice—up there.” He pointed to the sky. “They see. They know I avenge their deaths, and the deaths of so many others.”
“You can’t keep this up, Wild Horse,” Wade told him.
“When you die, there will be no end to my victories.”
“That’s a false belief—a superstition that makes no sense. We’re two different people, Wild Horse. In the white man’s world twins don’t bring bad luck.”
“The white man does not have to struggle as we do. He does not understand what life is like for the Comanche. His strength is not tested as ours is, except when we capture one and draw strength from the brave ones who do not cry out under our torture. How brave are you, my brother? How white are you? I will soon know.”
Wade rubbed at his cold, tingling hands. He could feel a tightness at the side of his face and neck, where blood had dried from the wound on his cheek.
“I don’t know if I�
�m stronger or more skilled or braver than you, Wild Horse. I don’t even want to know. I just want to talk to you, to understand you.”
“All you need to understand is that one of us must die. Why is that so difficult for you to master? Do you fear death?”
Wade shook his head. “I don’t fear death, Wild Horse. I fear losing the only blood brother I have. We’re brothers! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
Their eyes held. “If you were not a twin, I would welcome you,” Wild Horse answered, a sudden look of near sorrow in his eyes. “I would thank the spirits that I had found you. But you are a curse, Wade Morrow, a curse on my soul, my spirit. When you truly understand the Comanche way, you will understand why I cannot let you live, and you will not think so badly of me.”
The man turned and walked away, putting an arm around an older but attractive Comanche woman who had approached to look at Wade. She smiled and patted Wild Horse’s chest. “I have captured my other spirit,” he told the woman proudly.
“You are a brave man,” the woman answered.
Wild Horse moved a hand to her waist as they walked and gave her an affectionate hug. A little boy ran past him and Wild Horse moved to scoop the child up in his arms, holding him up and calling him a little warrior. The child giggled, and Wild Horse gave him a hug before setting him on his feet.
Wade watched in astonishment, seeing the affection the man was capable of feeling and showing; understanding it even better when he realized that much of what Wild Horse did was in revenge for losing his wives and sons. He was surely a lonely, hurting man. That much Wade could understand. But how the man could be so affectionate toward others, and so bitterly hateful of his own brother still made no sense to him.
“Come,” Aguila told him. “I give you food and water. Wild Horse wants you strong. Soon you will need that strength. Soon he will turn the women on you. They are very good at bringing pain without killing a man. For tonight, when you are through eating, you will be allowed to sleep without binding, but you will be closely watched. Tomorrow you will again be bound.”
Comanche Sunset Page 36
