Comanche Woman

by Joan Johnston

  By now, sounds of the commotion in the backyard had brought several of the guests from the house. A small crowd had gathered to watch the altercation.

  “Come with me, Bay,” Jonas said. “We have to say goodbye to your father’s guests.”

  “Stay with me, Bay,” Long Quiet said.

  Bay wanted to explain to Long Quiet why she had to go with Jonas, but there was no way she could say anything with so many eager ears listening. She could never humiliate Jonas in front of his friends. Even if she didn’t love him the way she loved Long Quiet, he was entitled to save his pride.

  “Let’s go, Jonas,” she said. Bay had never seen Long Quiet so coldly furious. Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. I have no choice! She turned and walked back to the house with Jonas.

  Long Quiet was reeling from the painful blow he’d just been dealt. He told himself Bay had a right to be angry with him for abandoning her and that she had taken out her anger by choosing to go with the other man. But he knew she loved him. She couldn’t have kissed him the way she had if she didn’t still love him. And that meant she could still change her mind and be his wife. He would not make the same mistake twice.

  This time he would woo her. And he would win her.

  He was aware at once when Bay’s father stepped within the haven created by the limbs of the concealing live oak. He’d expected opposition from Rip, and he got it.

  “She’s going to marry Jonas, and you’re not going to stop her.”

  Long Quiet turned to face Rip Stewart. “She’s already married. To me.”

  “Not in Texas,” Rip countered. “Besides, what can you give her that can possibly compare with what Jonas Harper has to offer? He has wealth, property, respectability. What can you offer her?”

  “I only need to find the right piece of land for my ranch, and I’ll build a home for her.”

  “Were you planning to take my daughter to live in a dogtrot Texas house made of logs and chinked with mud? Bay deserves better. She’s accustomed to better.”

  Long Quiet didn’t bother to point out that Bay had survived with much less among the Comanches. He simply said, “She’s my wife.”

  “Maybe she was once, but she’s not anymore. She’s engaged to Jonas Harper. She loves him. She’s loved him for years. She doesn’t need you, and she doesn’t want you. Believe me, if she did, I’d be the last person to stand in her way. I’m only thinking of what’s best for Bay. Leave her be.”

  Long Quiet remembered how Bay had called out Jonas Harper’s name the first time he’d made love to her. And it was true Harper could give her the luxuries she’d enjoyed in the white world. What if Rip Stewart was right? What if Bay preferred the things Jonas Harper could give her? But surely his love meant more to her than having silk dresses or silver forks and spoons.

  “Perhaps we should let Bay decide what she wants,” Long Quiet said.

  “You’re wasting your time,” Rip countered.

  “It’s my time.”

  “I don’t want Bay hurt any more than she already has been.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Rip sighed and turned to leave, but stopped to shake his head and add, “You’re a damned stubborn, single-minded man.”

  “So are you.”

  Once Rip was gone, Long Quiet slumped back against the huge gnarled trunk of the live oak. A snapping twig brought him upright, poised to fight.

  “Whoa! It’s just me,” Creed said. “I heard what happened. Seems like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

  Long Quiet leaned back against the oak again. “Seems that way.”

  “I’m glad to see you decided to fight for Bay.”

  “I love her,” Long Quiet replied.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Can you tell me where I might find a piece of land suitable for ranching?”

  “As a matter of fact, I can. Cruz Guerrero told me this afternoon that Jonas Harper approached him a while back about buying some of Rancho Dolorosa. Cruz needs the money more than the land, and he’s been seriously considering Jonas’s offer. If you like, I can mention to Cruz before he leaves that you’re also interested in the property.”

  “Do that. Tell him I’ll make a trip out to Rancho Dolorosa tomorrow to talk with him about it.”

  “I’ll see if I can catch Cruz now.” Creed reached a palm out to his friend. “Good luck . . . Walker.”

  Long Quiet took Creed’s hand and shook it firmly. “Thanks. I’ll need it.”

  Chapter 19

  BAY HAD PLEADED A HEADACHE AND PROMISED TO MEET Jonas in the morning to talk, but she hadn’t realized how hectic the next morning would be. Cricket and Creed were anxious to start for home and were taking Tom and Amy Creed with them for a visit at Lion’s Dare. Luke was preparing to head for the Texas-Louisiana border, since he had Ranger business in Shelby County. The few neighbors who’d come from far enough away to stay overnight had left at daybreak, and Bay spent the few spare moments she had mentally preparing the speech she planned to give to Jonas.

  Just before Cricket left, she pulled Bay aside. “Creed told me Walker’s here in Texas to stay and that he says he loves you. I had no idea, Bay, that you and Walker . . . are you still going to marry Jonas?”

  “No, I’m not. I care for Jonas, and I don’t want to hurt him. I probably would have married him if Long Quiet hadn’t come to get me. But now . . . of course I haven’t had a chance to say anything to Long Quiet yet, and I won’t until I’ve spoken to Jonas. I can’t break our engagement right away, because it would cause too much talk. But I’m going to tell Jonas today that I can’t marry him.”

  Cricket hugged Bay. “I’m so glad everything’s turning out all right.”

  “So am I. Take care of Jesse. Maybe the next time I see you I’ll be the one with the new baby.”

  “I hope so,” Cricket said with a laugh. “I can’t wait to see Walker playing the role of father.”

  Cricket and Creed had already driven away in their carriage, followed by Tom and Amy in theirs, when Luke sought Bay out. “I came to say goodbye and to tell you . . . ask you . . . how much do you really know about Jonas, Bay?”

  “I’ve never had cause to doubt him, Luke. Is that what you’re asking?”

  “No. I mean how much do you know about his business dealings?”

  “Not much. I know his father had business interests in Louisiana and that Jonas sold some of them and bought property in Shelby County. Why do you ask?”

  “I’m headed to Shelby County to investigate charges of corruption in the land-title office. One of the men who’s profited most by the alleged corruption is Jonas Harper.”

  “You must be mistaken, Luke. Jonas would never stoop to thievery.”

  Luke snorted in disgust. “That’s what Rip said when I told him what I knew. For your sake, I hope you’re both right. Just promise me you’ll wait to marry Jonas until I’ve found out the truth.”

  Bay opened her mouth to tell Luke she had no intentions of marrying Jonas now that Long Quiet had returned, but since that might have suggested a lack of trust in Jonas that she didn’t feel, she said nothing about her plans. “I’m sure you’re going to find that Jonas is totally innocent, Luke, so you needn’t worry about me.”

  “Damned stubborn, strong-willed Stewart women,” Luke muttered.

  Bay put a hand on Luke’s arm to stop him as he turned to leave. “All right,” she said, not totally sure why she felt the need to reassure him. “I’ll wait.”

  The look of relief in Luke’s hazel eyes was her reward. “Thanks, Bay. I’d better get moving.”

  “Take care of yourself, Luke.”

  “Sure, Bay. You too.”

  Bay had little time to contemplate Luke’s accusations before Jonas arrived at Three Oaks. She greeted him in the parlor, dreading what she had to say because she knew it would hurt him.

  “Good morning, darling,” Jonas said, leaning forward to kiss Bay on the cheek. “Are you feeling bett
er this morning?”

  “Yes, Jonas, I’m fine. Won’t you sit down?”

  Jonas had seated himself comfortably in the wing chair before he realized Bay wasn’t going to sit down. She was pacing nervously.

  “What’s wrong, Bay?”

  “I don’t know how to tell you,” she said hesitantly.

  Jonas rose and, taking Bay’s hands in his, seated her on the brocade-covered settee before dropping down beside her. “Now, tell me what’s wrong. I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

  Bay took a deep breath and said, “I can’t marry you, Jonas.”

  “But we just got engaged!”

  “I know that, and I know we can’t announce that we’ve broken our engagement until a decent time has passed. But then you can say you’ve changed your mind or that you discovered we weren’t suited after all.”

  “But we’re perfectly suited to one another.”

  “Oh, Jonas, it isn’t that I don’t care for you—I do.”

  “Then what is it, Bay?”

  Bay fidgeted with the pink ribbon that streamed down the front of her light wool day dress.

  “It’s that other man, that Walker Coburn, isn’t it?”

  “I’m . . . I’m in love with him, Jonas.”

  “But you’re engaged to me.”

  “Yes, I am,” Bay agreed in an attempt to soothe Jonas’s growing agitation, “but that’s what I’m trying to explain. We’ll have to break our engagement. I can’t marry you, because I’m in love with Walker.”

  “But you care for me.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “And you would have married me if this Walker fellow hadn’t come here looking for you?”

  Bay couldn’t face Jonas as she admitted, “Yes.”

  “Then there’s no reason for us to break our engagement, Bay. I love you, and you care for me. Walker Coburn doesn’t figure into it.”

  “You’ll find someone else, Jonas.”

  “No. There’s no one else for me but you, Bay. I’ve had this picture in my mind from the day I met you—the two of us surrounded by our children. I’m not giving that up, Bay, especially not to some stranger who wanders in the day we get engaged and tries to steal you away from me.”

  Bay winced when Jonas gripped her wrist, because of the bruises he’d made the previous day. He didn’t seem to notice he was hurting her again.

  “Look at me, Bay,” he said. Bay met Jonas’s fierce gaze with reluctance. “You belong to me. I can understand how another man might find you attractive. After all, I find you exquisite. But he can’t have what’s mine.”

  “What about what I want, Jonas?”

  “You want me.”

  “Not anymore,” Bay said soberly.

  “What if I told you that the fate of Three Oaks depends on your marrying me?”

  Bay’s heart began to beat a little faster as she asked, “What do you mean?”

  “You know Rip’s had a poor harvest the past two years.”

  “Yes. It’s been the same for everybody up and down the Brazos.”

  “But everybody didn’t have to rebuild and refurbish a house after it burned down. And everybody didn’t have problems with a cotton gin that eventually had to be replaced. Rip had to borrow money. He mortgaged Three Oaks to do it.”

  “That’s impossible. I’ve seen the books.”

  “Rip obviously didn’t want you to worry your pretty little head about something you couldn’t change. The truth is, I hold the note on Three Oaks, Bay, and because the latest cotton crop failed, Rip doesn’t have the wherewithal to pay the amount due this year.”

  “Surely you’re planning to extend the time he has to pay the note.”

  “Yes, of course I was . . . because he would have been my father-in-law. But without that relationship, I can’t.”

  “Would you do it as a favor to me?”

  “You know I would do anything for you, Bay. But you can understand that business is business. If I extended Rip’s loan simply as a favor to you, without a family involvement, then all those for whom I hold similar notes would expect the same sort of consideration. In no time I’d be bankrupt myself. You can understand why I couldn’t grant you such a favor if you weren’t my wife, can’t you?”

  “No, quite frankly, I can’t,” Bay replied. “What you’ve said sounds suspiciously like a threat, Jonas. And I won’t be threatened into marriage with you.”

  Jonas realized immediately that he’d made a tactical error, and quickly sought to mend his fences with Bay. “Of course there would probably be some way around the difficulty caused by our engagement being broken,” he said hastily. “But to be equally honest, Bay, I simply couldn’t afford to extend the note for more than another year in such a case, and then—”

  “By then Rip could certainly pay what’s due,” Bay interrupted coolly.

  “Perhaps,” Jonas agreed. “Probably,” he amended upon seeing Bay’s gaze harden. “Well, what can I say?” he asked, exasperated at her unrelenting expression. “I have no control over the Texas weather or the worms that have wiped out the cotton two years in a row. Who can predict—”

  Bay laid a hand on Jonas’s arm to quiet him. “I understand what you’re trying to say, Jonas. And I appreciate your concern. But I won’t be coerced into marriage. Do you understand?”

  This time it was Jonas’s expression that hardened. He didn’t like this side of Bay at all, but he supposed that it was what came of allowing a woman to spend so much time on her own traipsing around the Continent. Jonas had never been a graceful loser, but here the stakes were too high. He couldn’t take the chance of offending his future bride by arguing with her. He had no choice except to capitulate. “All right, darling.”

  Bay patted his arm as a reward for his reasonableness. “I want a chance to talk with Rip about this,” she said.

  “By all means,” Jonas encouraged, certain of Rip’s support of his suit. He covered Bay’s hand with his own as he added, “I’ll abide by your decision. I love you, Bay. And I’d much rather have you for my wife than take possession of Three Oaks.”

  Bay held her breath as Jonas leaned over to press another chaste kiss on her cheek. “I’ll see you to the door,” she said.

  “No need,” Jonas replied with an understanding smile. “I know my way out.”

  Bay sat for a long time where she was, unable to believe the incredible claim Jonas had made about Rip’s financial circumstances. Why hadn’t Rip’s books shown the severity of the debt Jonas had implied? It was hard to believe Rip had deliberately lied to her about such a thing, but apparently he had. And that could only mean the problem was every bit as critical as Jonas had suggested.

  Bay felt a queasiness in her stomach that had nothing to do with the nervousness she’d felt earlier about confronting Jonas. What was she supposed to do now? Three Oaks was everything to her father. It was Sloan’s heritage. What kind of daughter—indeed, what kind of sister—would she be if she had a chance to help and didn’t take it?

  She would simply have to confront Rip and determine the truth. Once she had all the facts she could decide whether it would be necessary to marry Jonas Harper after all.

  Long Quiet heard the sharp crack of the rifle a second before the thunk of a bullet connected with flesh. His mount whinnied in terror, and a spurt of blood warmed Long Quiet’s leg as the chestnut gelding buckled under him. Long Quiet reached out with his hands to cushion his fall, scraping his palms raw as they skidded along the rocks and dirt. The horse struggled against an inevitable death before it finally lay still. Long Quiet rolled himself into a tight ball in the cradle made by the horse’s belly and legs and was soon lying in a pool of the animal’s sticky blood.

  Since the horse was down, the bushwhacker would know his one shot had found the animal and not the man. A quick look around convinced Long Quiet he couldn’t make it to the nearest cover before whoever was shooting at him got another chance. He decided to wait it out. He could make his escape u
nder cover of darkness.

  Through the long day, the flies and insects were a trial, but it was the buzzards that became the greatest irritation. They seemed determined to make a meal of the horse and squawked in agitation when Long Quiet frightened them off. Even with those distractions, Long Quiet had too much time to think.

  He only knew one person with a reason to want him dead. Of course he could be wrong. There was plenty of riffraff drifting around Texas. But it was more likely Jonas Harper had decided to eliminate his competition. There was no sense in confronting Jonas without proof. His time would be better spent preparing for the next attack.

  He would be waiting when Jonas tried again.

  The balance of Long Quiet’s thoughts were spent on planning his future with Bay. It complicated matters considerably that she’d gotten engaged to Jonas, but he was convinced it was only a matter of time before she came to her senses and agreed to become his wife. He was certain he’d made the right decision in coming.

  Yet it hadn’t been easy deciding to live in Texas. He felt as though he’d shifted sides in the middle of a war. Of course there wasn’t any war—at least not an overt one—but the feeling was there just the same. He only knew that without Bay his life was empty, as bleak to contemplate as an empty water gourd in the desert.

  As darkness fell, Long Quiet had the rueful thought that he’d probably spent the day fighting off buzzards for nothing. Jonas Harper—or his hireling—was probably long gone. Long Quiet used the cover of nightfall to crawl a short distance from the horse’s carcass. When he was clear of the animal, he rose and settled into a steady jog that brought him to the outskirts of Cruz’s hacienda in little more than an hour. He searched for and found a place where he could rinse the worst of the blood off, but there was no way to remove entirely the effects of the day’s events.

  He hesitated at the fortresslike entrance to the hacienda. Comanches and Spaniards had been mortal enemies in Texas for hundreds of years. But he was no longer Comanche. The wizened old man who guarded the gate had expected Long Quiet earlier, so he escorted him to the house.