Shameless

by Rosanne Bittner

  Nina picked up her plate and moved a little closer to him. It was strange to see this side of him, to realize this man had a painful past, that he had also suffered. It was so much easier now to look at him as a vulnerable human being, rather than the skilled, regimented, and rather unfeeling American soldier she had thought him when she first met him. “How long were you there?” she asked.

  Clay glanced at her, then looked back at the fire. “I left when I was fifteen. Got a job at a livery. I struck up a friendship with the livery owner’s daughter, Jennifer. She was fourteen. Over the years friendship turned to love. We finally married when I was twenty and she was nineteen.” He shook his head, seeming lost in his own world now. “My God, has it really been so many years ago?” He sighed deeply, taking another sip of coffee. “At twenty-one she died in childbirth,” he went on, his voice lower, filled with more pain. “The baby died, too…a boy.”

  The night air hung quiet. Nina felt his pain, and she said nothing, wanting to let him continue at his own pace.

  “I want another son, Nina…lots of sons. I never had a family, no good memories. I want a big family, and I want my children to have good memories.”

  Nina felt her cheeks flush at the words, realizing there was only one way to give a man children. She swallowed before speaking. “I would like the same.”

  He sighed again, picking up his plate and scooping up a spoonful of beans, swallowing them before continuing. “I joined the Army after that, volunteered for service in the West because I needed to get away from everything familiar. So, here I am.” He turned to meet her eyes. “I never thought I’d end up illegally whisking a Mexican horse thief away from jail and running off to Mexico with her.” His blue eyes had lost their pain. Now they danced with love, and a teasing look.

  “It seems both of us are surprised at what we are doing,” she told him.

  Clay smiled. “Shocked is more like it.” He set his plate aside and rested back on one elbow, facing her. “There was a time when I thought I could never love again. It feels good, Nina.”

  She nodded. “It is the first time for me, but yes, it does feel good.” She reached out to touch his hair hesitantly. “I want to make you happy again.”

  He grasped her hand, moving it to his mouth and kissing her palm. “And you will. With you for a mother, we’ll have the most handsome sons and the most beautiful daughters in all of the United States and Mexico.”

  She grinned, the wonderful pulsation moving through her again. “It will be because of their handsome father, not me.”

  He leaned closer, meeting her mouth in a sweet kiss. The thought of giving him children brought a whimper from deep in her throat and he laid her back, keeping a hand at the side of her face while the kiss grew more passionate, both of them remembering their loneliness, enjoying the good feeling of being loved and being together.

  Clay could barely control a desire to do much more, but she was bruised and tired, and far from ready, he was sure. He left her mouth and kissed at her eyes. “Sleep beside me tonight, Nina. I won’t touch you wrongly. I just want you next to me. Sometimes I’m afraid that if you aren’t in my arms you’ll disappear again.”

  Her heart raced. Could she really sleep beside him without him forcing himself on her in the middle of the night? She wanted him that way, but not yet…not just yet. She knew, though, that she had to learn to trust him. After all, this was Clay, and in spite of his size and air of authority, he seemed so vulnerable right now. He needed comfort from her as much as she needed it from him.

  “Sí, I will sleep with you. I want to feel you holding me through the night,” she answered. “All those lonely nights in that jail cell, I wondered many times how it would feel to sleep in the arms of a man who loved me. I was always so afraid that deputy would come for me in the night…in the dark…”

  “No one is going to come for you or hurt you, not as long as you’re right here beside me.” He wondered if she realized what she did to a man, realized the strength and love it would take for him to just hold her the next several nights and do nothing more. She was so innocent of her own beauty. “Mi vida,” he said softly. “That is what you are to me…my life, my new life. I can start all over again, Nina, with you.”

  She stroked his hair. “And I will also begin a new life. I am just sorry that we must do it in Mexico. Surely you would rather be in your own country.”

  “We’ll worry about that later. Maybe someday we can come back, maybe go to California. I just want to get someplace where it’s safe for you. After a while, when all this is forgotten and there is no one left to care, we’ll decide what to do.” He sighed, reluctantly sitting up, everything aching from the want of her. He felt he had to change the conversation or go crazy. “Right now we’d better think about eating and resting so we can keep the strength we need to get where we’re going. First things first. I’m not completely healed myself yet. This has been a hard trip for me.”

  Nina also sat up, and they both picked up their plates again. “I still feel responsible for your pain,” she told him. She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “I am so sorry, Clay. Sorry for things I said, for the times I lied to you and was so bad.”

  He grinned then, stirring his beans. “You were never bad, not deep inside. I knew that. Now eat up so we can get that sleep we talked about and get on the trail early.”

  She watched him a moment, a lump rising in her throat. “Thank you, Clay, for all of it. Mostly just for loving me in spite of the trouble I caused you.”

  He gave her a wink. “We’re a hell of a pair, aren’t we? Outsiders would think we’re both nuts.”

  She smiled through tears. “Sí. Somos loco.”

  Clay laughed then, a wonderful, manly laugh. She realized she had never heard him laugh so freely before. He was happy, and she was the reason. She had never felt more alive and loved, and she realized all her childish feelings and attitudes had left her. Clay Youngblood had helped her realize she was a woman now. She would know the ultimate ecstasy of that womanhood one day when he made her his wife.

  They were friends now, lovers in their hearts, both realizing the physical side of their love must wait. They talked, about Mexico, the land she and Emilio still owned there, about ranching and farming. They finished their food and cleaned up their dishes. Clay removed his boots and Army shirt, leaving on the white cotton shirt he wore under it, as well as the rest of his clothes. He laid his rifle and pistol close beside him, then settled into his bedroll. “Let’s get some rest,” he told her.

  Nina smiled bashfully, sitting down beside him and removing her boots, but leaving on the rest of her clothes. She moved next to him, snuggling her back against him. Clay drew blankets over both of them, moving his arm around her and relishing the feel of her slender body pressed against his own; and he wondered just how much rest he would really get tonight. His desire for her would make it difficult to sleep, but he had asked her to trust him, and he would not betray that trust.

  “I am so glad God answered my prayers and made you well,” she told him softly. “He means for us to be together, Clay.”

  Clay tilted her chin and looked into her eyes with tender agreement. A lot of miles lay between them and Mexico, Clay thought, and there was still the matter of Emilio to be settled once they got to El Paso. But that was a worry for later. First they had to avoid Indians and quite possibly the law just to get to El Paso. Somewhere in the distant foothills a wolf howled, reminding him of the loneliness he had felt most of his life. It only made him more determined not to let anything destroy this new love and happiness he had found.

  As though to read his thoughts, Nina snuggled even closer. “It is a lonely sound, isn’t it,” she said softly. “El lobo.”

  The wolf howled again, and Clay held her tighter.

  With each day Nina grew stronger, Clay’s presence acting like a tonic for her. Her bruises faded, and her happiness grew. It was the same for Clay. With Nina at his side, he felt his own strength retu
rning. He felt like a new man, with new energy and purpose to his life.

  Trust. Nina learned to trust, and that trust only strengthened the bond of friendship and love she shared with Clay. They were two people from different worlds who shared a common past of loneliness. The long journey to El Paso left them plenty of time to talk, and they shared memories, even the bad ones; they revealed their innermost dreams, talked about each other’s homelands.

  Nina could tell that Clay missed the green mountains of the place called Pennsylvania. She tried to picture a land where there were forests of huge hardwood trees, where the mountains were green with foliage instead of rocky and barren, where winter snows piled deep sometimes even in the lowlands, not just in the mountains.

  “Do you ever think about going back?” she asked him. They had been traveling for ten days.

  “Sometimes, but there are a lot of bad memories there. I think for now we should settle in Mexico. Maybe I can build something out of the land you still own there. At least in Mexico the law can’t touch us.”

  Nina nodded in agreement, sitting straight and proud on her black gelding. She looked over at him, smiling in that way that made him want to taste her mouth again. “Besides, you will be my husband. I go wherever you go. If you want to live in Pennsylvania, we will live there. If you want to live in Mexico, then that will be our home.”

  Clay slowed his horse, his eyes moving over her. Now that she felt better she was showing a little of the brashness she had displayed when he first met her. She had a look in her dark eyes that told him she was more and more sure that she wanted him, and sitting there on her fine horse, her black hair shining in the New Mexico sun, she looked more beautiful than ever.

  “Nina, the next town we come to…if it has a church or a mission or something…” He halted his horse. “Will you marry me? I don’t want to wait until we get to Mexico,” he admitted. “But I will, if that’s what you want.”

  She sobered, feeling the fire move through her blood again. “Sí,” she answered, her cheeks feeling hot. “I will marry you as soon as we can find a priest.”

  Before Clay could answer, there came a blood-curdling war cry from behind a broad, towering red rock formation just to their right. Two Apache warriors emerged only yards away, riding toward them and wielding tomahawks. Nina’s horse whirled and reared. She scrambled to hang on to the reins with one hand while she tried to draw her pistol from the waist of her riding skirt with the other. She heard a shot ring out and knew it was from Clay’s own pistol, but her horse reared again, and she could not pull her own gun for fear of falling. She screamed when she felt someone grab her from behind, yanking her from her horse. She fought wildly, saw Clay charging toward her and her abductor. Clay grasped the right wrist of the warrior who had hold of her, and Nina raised her eyes to see that the man held a huge knife and was ready to plunge it into her heart.

  Both men struggled, Nina between them. Nina vaguely realized Clay couldn’t shoot at the man for fear of hitting her. She joined in helping him subdue the warrior by reaching up and scratching at his eyes. The Indian yelled out, his horse twisting violently so that both of them fell from it. Clay refused to let go in the melee, and he, too, was torn from his own horse in the fall.

  All three rolled apart for a moment, but in a split second the Indian was lunging at Clay again. He had apparently lost his pistol in the fall. Nina had also lost hers, and she frantically searched for a weapon, while Clay and the Indian wrestled violently on the ground. Nina’s heart raced with fear for Clay’s life when she remembered he still was not up to full strength. She was desperate to find one of the guns, for if there was nothing she could do to help Clay, she could at least shoot herself before the Apache got hold of her.

  With his left hand Clay managed to keep the Indian’s knife hand away from him, but it took every ounce of strength he had. With his own free hand, the Indian began choking Clay. Clay’s mind reeled with the realization of what could happen to Nina if he wasn’t able to save her. He managed to find a rock as he felt around with his right hand for some kind of weapon. Pulling on all reserves, he slammed the rock into the warrior’s skull.

  The Indian grunted and stiffened, then fell away from Clay. By then, Nina had found one of the pistols and noticed that the first Indian, who Clay had already shot, was on his knees, taking a knife from his belt. Nina raised her own pistol and fired, hitting the man squarely in the head. Blood poured over his face, and he fell forward. Nina whirled to shoot the other Indian, but Clay was already knelt over him, a bloody knife in his hand. The Indian’s chest was bathed in his own blood. Clay had plunged the knife deep.

  Clay looked over at Nina, his own clothes filthy and torn. “You all right?”

  “I…think so,” she answered, her eyes wide with fright. She looked around. “Do you think there are more of them?”

  “I know there are! Apache are like ants. Where you see one or two, there are a lot more someplace nearby. Those two were probably just scouts for a bigger party. We’ve got to ride, Nina, and ride fast!”

  She ran to where the other pistol lay and hurriedly handed it to Clay. “What about you?” She gasped when she saw the blood beginning to soak his shirt at the top of his left shoulder. “You are hurt!”

  “No time to worry about that now. Let’s go! Ándale!”

  She handed him his gun, and they both mounted up, heading south at a hard gallop. Before long both horses were lathered, and Nina was so frightened that her chest actually pained her. She could almost feel an arrow plunging into her back.

  They reached rolling foothills and charged up a rise. Coming down the other side of the hill, both of them slowed their mounts, amazed at what lay before them on the other side of the rise. The horses panted and shuddered, tossing their manes and breathing hard as both Nina and Clay stared. “What is it?” Nina asked.

  “Looks like a mission.”

  The building sat against green trees and grass, the Gila River flowing behind it. Its stucco walls gleamed white in the hot New Mexico sun, and a bell hung in an arch over the huge oak gate-type doors at the entrance to the walled courtyard.

  “No time to wonder. Let’s get down there,” Clay said. “Maybe there are people there who can help us. It will at least be a barrier if more Indians come.”

  They kicked their horses into another gallop, heading for the blessedly beautiful sight. When they reached the doors, someone opened them, and they rode through into a flowered courtyard, where they slowed their weary mounts and finally came to a halt. They turned to see the doors closing again, and a man wearing black robes shoved a huge log bolt through them, then turned to greet Nina and Clay with a smile.

  “Buenos días,” he spoke up. “I am Father Manuel Santiago. Welcome to the Mission de Santo Pedro. You are safe here.”

  In the distance they could hear war whoops.

  “The Apache will not bother you here,” the Father promised. “They respect the mission. Whoever comes here is safe.”

  Nina and Clay looked at each other, both having the same thought now that they had found safety. Could there be a better sign that God meant for them to be together? He had caused them to change course, leading them to this place. They had found a mission, and a priest.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “So, now you know the truth,” Nina said to Father Santiago. “I will not lie to a priest.” She splashed alcohol onto the deep gash in Clay’s left shoulder, and he grunted from the sting. “I am a horse thief, and Clay helped me escape from prison.”

  The priest, a middle-aged, dedicated man with salt-and-pepper hair and beard watched the couple with kind brown eyes. He had not believed Clay Youngblood’s story that Nina was an Apache captive he had just rescued. What was a soldier doing traveling this country alone? And if Nina Juarez had been an Apache captive, she would be in much worse condition than she was, although it was apparent she had been treated badly enough in the prison by the deputy she had told him about.

  “So, L
ieutenant, or, should I just call you Mr. Youngblood? You must love this young woman very much to risk getting her out of that jail and travel through dangerous Apache country to get her to safety.”

  Clay glanced up at the priest while Nina pressed gauze to his wound. A nun handed her some clean cloth strips and she began wrapping them around the wound and under Clay’s arm to hold the gauze tight. “I do love her,” Clay answered. “And right now we both need a few days rest. I hope you’ll let us stay here a while.”

  The priest smiled. “Of course. I’ll have Sister Sharon prepare a supper for you. You will always find her in our kitchen. She enjoys cooking. This is Sister Maria.” The man indicated the nun helping Nina. “There are two more nuns here, Sister Agatha and Sister Henrietta. One of them will prepare rooms for you.”

  “Is it true that the Apache never bother you?” Clay asked.

  The priest nodded. “They know the mission has something to do with being sacred. And we often feed them, give them tobacco and such. This mission was originally built to bring Christianity to the Comanche and Apache. As an experienced soldier, I am sure you understand what a long, slow road that has proved to be.”

  Clay grinned with a hint of sarcasm. “That’s an understatement.” He winced when Nina made him raise his arm a little more, the cut burning into his shoulder. “I’ll probably be dead before the Indians in these parts are converted.”

  “Well, we still must try. We have a few Indian children who come here every week for sweets. We have managed to teach some of them a few letters.”