Her Cold Revenge

by Erin Johnson

  “All seems to be well,” he said beside her. “If Sequoyah were missing, they wouldn’t be dancing. Want to join them?”

  Grace was still too shy to take part in the dances, but when Joe dismounted and took her hand, she melted.

  “Please?”

  “Not in the group. Can we . . . can we dance here?”

  Joe smiled and helped her slide from Bullet’s back. “Even better. A chance to be alone with you.”

  A bubble of joy floated up inside of her and grew until it filled her so full she thought she’d burst. She pushed aside all her worries, her vendetta with the Guiltless Gang, her fears for Sequoyah. Alone in the dark, with the distant drum pounding a steady, syncopated beat that echoed the excitement of her heart, Grace faced Joe and began the shuffling steps of the dance. She let the rhythm carry her away and moved her body in time with the music. Joe had his eyes closed as he swayed with her, and when he opened them, the moonlight revealed they were awash with love.

  “Oh, Joe,” she whispered.

  He faltered, stopped dancing, and stared at her. Grace stumbled to a halt and gazed back. When he held open his arms, she moved into them as if under a spell. Safe in his encircling arms, she laid her head on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. The fast pitter-patter of her own was like bird wings beating, struggling to fly free. Here, surrounded by trees, a canopy of stars overhead, the scent of pine mingling with the smoke from the fire, Grace felt warm and content and loved. Peace enveloped her and it seemed there was only this moment. She and Joe alone together in the universe where nothing else intruded, nothing else mattered. She tilted her head up and admired his rugged profile in the moonlight, but when his eyes met hers again, she was suddenly lost — drowning in a sea of emotions she’d never felt before, strange conflicting feelings she couldn’t name.

  “Grace?”

  His whisper set off an uproar of emotion. All she wanted was to be close to him, to hold him and never let go — for everything else to disappear until only one thing was left. Joe. Only Joe. She wanted to capture this moment, to keep it with her forever, to stretch it to eternity. She wished the nightmares of the past and the vengeance of the future could never interfere again.

  When Joe’s lips met hers, she twined her arms around his neck and kissed him with every fiber of her being, with her heart and soul. The softness of his kiss deepened, and Grace met the deepening pressure with passion. She gave herself up to it with complete abandonment, letting her lips convey the message that burned inside. She loved Joe and wanted to be with him not only this moment, but always.

  He pulled back and said again shakily, “Grace?”

  Again torrents of desire were set coursing through her blood. Though a small voice warned she was playing with fire, Grace whispered back, “Yes.” And her body echoed that desire. Yes, yes, yes.

  Joe’s voice was husky. “Maybe we shouldn’t . . .” His words were unsteady, but his fingers were sure as he stroked her jawline and trailed a finger down her neck. Grace had never wanted anything, anyone with such a fierce desire. Inside she burned brighter than the campfire in the distance. She leaned her body against his and he gathered her closer, tightening his arms around her until she was pressed against the length of his body.

  “I don’t want to stop,” she answered in a whisper.

  When their lips met again she ran her fingers through Joe’s hair and slid them around the back of his neck, pulling him closer . . .

  A rustling in the bushes behind them made them jump apart.

  They turned to see Sequoyah emerging from the trees. She was almost right beside them before she realized they were there. A small, startled squeak escaped her lips, but she quickly clapped one hand over her mouth and the other to her heart.

  “Joe? Grace?” Sequoyah whispered. “You scare me. Very much!”

  “We’re sorry,” Grace whispered back, her own heart beating as rapidly for a different reason. If Sequoyah hadn’t approached when she did, Joe and she might have . . . Her face flushed.

  “What you are doing here?” Sequoyah asked.

  Grace tried to concentrate on the conversation, but her mind was too full of thoughts of Joe, his hands on her body. They’d stepped apart, but his arm was still around her shoulders, and the warmth of it sent sparks of desire coursing through her.

  “We’re, umm . . .” Her mind went blank. She couldn’t remember why they were here, and she couldn’t form a coherent sentence, but she didn’t have to worry. Sequoyah took over the conversation after glancing from one to the other. “Joe — he find you, yes? And you are . . .” At a loss for words, she stuttered to a stop. “I not know the word.”

  “Together?” Joe suggested, glancing down at Grace as though he was unsure.

  “Yes, yes, that is what I try to say.” Sequoyah beamed at both of them. “Grace, you are back to stay?”

  Her friend’s words penetrated the fog inside her mind. No, she wasn’t back to stay. Real life came crashing back in. She had a gang to find, a mission to complete, and she’d almost lost her way in Joe’s arms. If he’d asked her then to give up her quest, she would have agreed to anything. Anything at all — and she almost had. Her cheeks burned hotter at that thought. Grace realized that both Joe and Sequoyah were staring at her, waiting for an answer. An answer she couldn’t give. She fumbled for words. “Umm, it’s so good to be back. To see you again.” She frowned, remembering their concerns. “Are you all right? I’ve been worried about you. Joe said —”

  “I am fine,” Sequoyah said stiffly, then darted a worried glance over her shoulder.

  “If everything is all right, why are you sneaking away from the dance?” Joe asked. Then light dawned in his eyes and he glanced around. “Dahana is around here too, isn’t he?”

  Sequoyah started to shake her head, but stopped when Dahana stepped from the bushes off to their right. He moved to Sequoyah’s side, but she edged away.

  “The two of you wanted some time alone?” Joe smiled a little and drew Grace closer to his side. “I can understand that, but Sequoyah, what about your father? I thought —”

  “I no care what he say.” She lifted her chin defiantly.

  Dahana was looking over at her with admiration and love, but at her change in stance, a worried frown creased his brow.

  Grace reached out a hand to her friend. “Maybe we should talk alone. Just you and me.”

  Sequoyah looked reluctant, but after a second she put her hand in Grace’s and allowed herself to be pulled a short distance away.

  “What’s going on? Joe said you refused Tarak. Have you told your father that you love Dahana?” Grace asked.

  Sequoyah’s face turned stony. “Father very angry. Want me to marry Tarak, but he no understand I love Dahana.” Her face softened as she said the last three words, and her eyes shone. “We be together,” she said with a smile, referencing what Joe had just said about him and Grace.

  “But what about your father?”

  Sequoyah sighed. “I cannot do what he want.”

  “So what are you going to do?” Grace said, looking at her friend with concern.

  Sequoyah refused to meet her eyes. “We find a way. Me and Dahana.”

  “Meeting him in secret will not be enough, and if your father expects you to marry Tarak . . .” She sighed. “It could be a problem. Sequoyah, I’m worried about you. What will happen if you don’t obey your father?”

  “Do not worry, Grace. We be fine.”

  Grace wasn’t so sure. Defying Cheis and meeting in secret couldn’t go on forever. Sooner or later they’d be caught. And then what? Sequoyah glanced at Dahana and Joe, who were staring intently at them and also speaking in low voices.

  “I go to Dahana right now,” Sequoyah said, then grasped Grace’s hand. “You stay with me in my kuugh’a tonight?”

  Grace smiled. “I’d like that.
” It seemed so long since she and Sequoyah had spent time together, even though only a few months had passed.

  “You are good friend,” Sequoyah said, reaching over to embrace her. Grace smiled and returned the hug tightly.

  “Joe and I will care for the horses, then I’ll meet you back at the camp.”

  Once again, Sequoyah avoided her gaze. “Yes.”

  Something odd was going on, but Grace wasn’t sure what. She couldn’t help feeling uneasy as Sequoyah returned to Dahana’s side, whispering quietly but urgently as they walked away, their heads bent close together.

  Joe stood waiting beside the horses, and as she remembered what they were doing before they were interrupted, she felt prickles of embarrassment crawl up her neck. She tried to keep her tone neutral, to not let her out-of-control feelings take over again. “Sequoyah says she’ll meet me at her kuugh’a after we get the horses settled for the night.”

  Joe nodded and handed her Bullet’s reins, glancing after their friends with a concerned look on his face. They walked in silence to the pasture, though the ground around them still rumbled with drumbeats. The chanting from the fireside grew fainter as they climbed the hill to the place where he had first kissed her that starry night. It was only a few months ago, but it seemed almost a lifetime. Joe, too, must have been remembering, because he glanced at the spot where they’d been sitting when that moment happened, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed.

  It was also the place she’d left him sleeping alone, riding away on her quest.

  Now it was Grace who had to swallow hard. That had been the most difficult thing she’d ever done. Would she have to do it again? Was there a way to keep Joe in her life and complete her mission?

  “Grace?” Joe’s hesitant voice interrupted her thoughts. “About earlier.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I got carried away. I understand if you can’t trust me again.”

  She raised a hand. “No. It was my fault too.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t . . . Maybe it would be better not to . . .” The crimson that stained Joe’s cheeks was visible even in the moonlight. “It’s hard being around you and not touching you, but . . . I don’t want to lose your trust, and I don’t want you to do something you’d regret and have you end up hating me.”

  “I could never hate you.” Grace drew in an unsteady breath. At the thought of not touching Joe, not being cradled in his arms, not . . . emptiness swept through her, a sense of loss so deep that it took her breath away. But maybe Joe was right. One of these times they’d do something they might both regret — after all they weren’t betrothed yet. She flushed at thinking of the word yet. She needed to keep her mind on her goal.

  “You’re thinking about revenge again, aren’t you?” Joe’s voice came from far away. “Your face hardens, your jaw tenses . . .” His tone held a deep sadness. “If you could just let it go, we could —” He stopped speaking when Grace held up a hand, but he continued to shake his head.

  She turned and forced herself to walk away toward the pasture. “Let’s get the horses settled for the night.”

  The other horses nickered in delight when she and Joe turned Paint and Bullet loose in the enclosure.

  She and Joe headed back to the camp without saying much more to one another. The dancing had quieted and they made their way to separate kuugh’as with only a tentative goodnight. Grace found Sequoyah waiting outside her tent, but she didn’t seem in the mood to talk; she said she was tired. Grace was a little hurt at her friend’s lack of interest in a conversation, but they’d have plenty of time to talk things through in the morning, and as she lay near Sequoyah as she breathed into sleep, Grace felt the same bond, the same closeness she had when she was last with the Ndeh. She really did feel more at home in the Ndeh camp than she did in town.

  The others didn’t know that she and Joe had arrived tonight, but she looked forward to them surrounding her and welcoming her back in the morning. She was one of them. Grace drifted off to sleep imagining staying here with Joe forever.

  * * *

  She woke suddenly before dawn and lay still for a moment, uncertain where she was. No crash of glassware or stamp of boots. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see the stars through the hole in the thatch overhead and she remembered — the kuugh’a. The Ndeh camp. A sense of peace flooded over her. Even though soldiers hunted the Ndeh and they often needed to keep their presence a secret, a calmness pervaded their daily life.

  Grace took a deep breath of the clean, fresh air, so different from the heavy clouds and stench of smelting that hung over Bisbee. There, the land had been almost stripped of trees, but here in the hills around the camp, the crystal-clear air and soft night-bird songs began to lull her back to sleep. To hear that and the sound of Sequoyah’s gentle breathing beside her . . .

  Grace pushed herself up on one elbow, listening intently. Sequoyah? The air inside the wickiup was still, and she looked around in the darkness, holding her breath. She reached out a hand, but no. Nothing. Sequoyah was gone. Grace sat up and threw off the deerskin blanket. Where was she? It was too early for the women to start cooking. Had her friend slipped out to spend the night with Dahana? Grace slid her feet into the moccasins Sequoyah had given her last night. If she’d fallen asleep in Dahana’s kuugh’a, she needed to return before anyone in the village discovered them.

  Grace slipped through the darkness toward Dahana’s kuugh’a. How could she wake them without disturbing any of the neighbors? She softly whistled one of the birdcalls Sequoyah had taught her. When that brought no response, Grace lifted the buffalo hide at the door enough to toss a few pebbles into the wickiup, but only silence greeted her.

  She disliked invading their privacy, but she couldn’t let Sequoyah be shamed in front of her whole band. Keeping her eyes averted, she pushed aside the buffalo hide and stepped inside. “Sequoyah?” she whispered.

  When she got no answer, she glanced around as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The kuugh’a was empty.

  Shock and fear rippled through Grace. What had Sequoyah done?

  * * *

  A slow, sleepy smile crossed Joe’s face and he held up his arms, inviting her to join him. She could tell he was still half in slumber, and any other time she would have found that invitation very hard to resist, but right now she had to wake him up.

  “Joe,” she whispered desperately as she held open the flap of his kuugh’a, “Sequoyah’s missing. Dahana’s gone too.”

  Joe sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking confused. “What? How do you know?”

  “She wasn’t in the kuugh’a when I woke up, so I went to Dahana’s to warn her dawn was coming, but it was empty.”

  Joe tensed. “You’re sure?” His deerskin blanket tumbled to the ground as he jumped to his feet. “Are their horses still here?”

  “I didn’t check.”

  Grabbing his shirt, Joe slid it over his head and Grace still couldn’t help admiring his torso, but he quickly shoved his feet into his boots and took her hand. “Let’s go see.”

  Hand in hand, they rushed up the hill. Joe whistled and Paint came running, Bullet following close on his heels.

  But neither Sequoyah’s nor Dahana’s horse were in the enclosure.

  CHAPTER 16

  Grace’s heart sank.

  “Where could they have gone?”

  “I don’t know, but we need to follow them while the trail’s still fresh,” Joe said, jumping the fence. “Can you go grab our saddlebags while I saddle up the horses?”

  She nodded and raced off, wondering how much of a head start Sequoyah had. No wonder her friend had pleaded tiredness last night — she didn’t want to give Grace a chance to talk or ask questions. Had Sequoyah slept at all, or had she only feigned slumber until she was sure Grace was sleeping?

  Reaching the kuugh’a, Grace slung her saddlebag over her shoulder and e
xchanged her moccasins for boots. Then she grabbed Joe’s belongings from his wickiup and raced back to find the horses ready to go. She swung up into the saddle beside him.

  “Which way do you think they went?” she asked.

  Joe pointed to the trail toward town. “Looks like fresh hoofprints and some horse droppings over there, but I doubt they’ll stick to the trail for long. They’d know better. We’ll need to watch for signs of where they veered off.”

  Grace nodded. As they followed the prints in the soft earth, she searched for broken twigs or disturbed dirt in the undergrowth. Beside her, Joe sat alert and tense, his eyes scanning for clues. The trail narrowed until they could no longer ride side by side, and Joe took the lead. Bullet chafed at the slow pace, but they couldn’t take a chance of missing any signs of which way their friends had gone — Dahana was an excellent tracker. He’d know to cover their movements, even if they didn’t expect anyone to be trailing them.

  “They couldn’t have gotten far, could they?” Grace asked.

  Joe shrugged. “Any idea how long they’ve been gone?”

  “Sequoyah rolled over and went to sleep a few minutes after we settled for the night. At least I thought she was sleeping . . .”

  “So she could have left any time after you fell asleep.”

  “Yes.” Grace tried to recall the evening before. “I was pretty tired, but I did lie there for a while, thinking . . .” She bit her lip as memories of last night returned. Pictures of her and Joe entwined in each other’s arms. She’d relived every moment of their evening together, each time with a different ending. In the end, in her mind, she’d drifted off to sleep safe in Joe’s arms.

  “Oh?” His voice interrupted her reverie.

  “Umm, yeah. I was probably awake for a little while.” Grace was glad Joe was riding in front so he couldn’t see her flaming cheeks. “I was just . . . glad to be back. I loved listening to the quiet, hearing the night sounds.” Her words sounded pathetic even to herself.