by Bobbi Smith
Brand turned to look at her as they moved off down the trail. "Have you ever heard of torture?"
Sheri paled a little. Her voice was a little unsteady as she asked, "Did they torture her before you got there?"
"No, but they would have. That raiding party enjoyed it."
"What would they have done?"
Brand wasn't sure he should tell her everything, but he thought he might as well scare her a little bit. "They've been known to shoot their victims with arrows, taking care not to hit anything vital. One unlucky man was wounded over a hundred times before they finally put him out of his misery."
"Would they do that to a woman?"
"Worse."
"It could be worse?"
"There have been times when they've tied a hostage to a tree and then set the tree on fire."
Sheri made a strangled sound.
"They've also staked men out naked on anthills in the direct sun and cut off their eyelids."
She fought down a shudder of revulsion. "Creative in the use of pain, aren't they?"
"You can use your imagination to figure out what they do to women."
"Then how did you manage to get to Mrs. Garner in time?"
"She was physically unharmed, but I don't really know how lucky she was. She might have been better off dead."
Sheri gasped. "How can you say that?"
Brand's expression turned hard. "By the time I got to her . . ."
"But I thought they hadn't tortured her in any way."
"There are many kinds of torture. They don't all have to be of the flesh. When I rescued her, she had already seen so much. Experienced so much. I don't know that she'll ever be the same again."
"You mean what she lived through when they attacked the stage?"
He gave a terse nod. "Have you ever seen or heard what the victims look like when the Apache get through with them?"
"No." Her voice sounded small.
"The men are maimed before they're killed, and the women . . ."
"Yes . . . ?" she urged, hanging on his every word.
"Death is a welcome release for them when it finally comes." He was deliberately trying to make his tale shocking, hoping it would discourage her in her effort and she would quickly go back East.
"And Mrs. Garner saw it all?"
"She saw it all."
Sheri swallowed and offered up an unspoken prayer that the poor officer's wife was recovering from her ordeal. "No wonder they left the Territory."
She remained quiet as she tried to visualize the horrors he'd described to her. She silently thanked Maureen for keeping Philip at bay.
As if by just thinking of him, though, it seemed she conjured him up. The next thing she knew, Philip was once again at her side.
"Enjoying yourself?"
"I'm certainly learning a lot."
"Good. I know that's what you wanted to do. So Brand is helping you?"
"Very much. He's being very cooperative."
"Good." Philip smiled, but in truth, he wasn't pleased. He had wanted to be the one to answer her questions. After all, he came from a fine, upstanding military family back East. Who better to help her research? If only he could convince her of that.
Behind them, Charles and Maureen rode together. Charles had been quietly watching the interaction between Sheri, Brand, and the lieutenant with growing amusement. He couldn't hold back a chuckle when Philip broke off the conversation Maureen had initiated and went to speak to Sheri.
"A valiant try," he said with a mocking grin.
"Excuse me?" She acted innocent.
"Your attempt to keep our lieutenant occupied so Sheri could have a few minutes with Brand uninterrupted. I'm afraid Long has other ideas, though."
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."
"There are times when playing innocent works,
but this isn't one of them. Your questions to the fine, upstanding officer were a trifle contrived."
"Excuse me?" Maureen managed a wounded, out-raged look.
"Like 'Oh, Philip, how do you manage to keep this territory so safe? It must be such a difficult job, and yet things are so peaceful' . . ." Charles chuckled again. "Good try, my dear."
"If you say so." She was embarrassed that she must have been so obvious, but Long hadn't seemed to notice.
"Relax, I'm on your side," he told her in a more confidential tone. "Remember, I'm the one who wanted you to form your own opinion about our illustrious officer, and now I think you have."
"Sheri and I both have, and you're right. She asked me earlier, when we stopped to look at those tracks, if I would keep him occupied so she could interview Brand. I think the lieutenant wants her full and undivided attention on him."
"I'm sure he does. We'll have to work together to see if we can help her."
"A conspiracy of sorts?" She slanted a sidelong glance at Charles as she smiled. "You'd do that?"
"I love rescuing damsels in distress. I don't get the opportunity very often. And who knows? Sheri just might make me a character in the book." He grinned wickedly at her.
"You help me with him, and I'll make sure she puts you in the story."
"As the hero?" he teased.
She laughed. "You're as bad as the lieutenant!"
"You wound me sorely."
"You're right. You couldn't possibly be that bad."
"Thank you."
Chapter Six
Brand, the Half-Bread Scout, or Trail of the Renegade
The Challenge
Brand returned to the fort weary but victorious. Yet he took no glory in the triumph of his surprise attack on the raiding party; there was only the satisfaction of knowing that by defeating the renegades he had prevented further slaughter. Still, the innocent were dead. He could not bring them back.
"Brand! Thank God you're back! They've taken the captain's wife!" Sergeant Lowery, the chief of scouts, shouted when he saw him ride back into the fort.
Brand was instantly alert as he dismounted. "What happened?"
"Captain Stewart's wife was due to arrive yesterday, but the stage was attacked by renegades! We need you to head out as soon as you can." He quickly told Brand everything he knew about the attack.
Captain Stewart heard that Brand had returned and he came out to speak to his best scout. "Find my wife, Brand. Find her for me." There was agony in his voice.
Brand knew that with the headstart they had on him, it would be difficult tracking, but he would do his best. If her body hadn't been found at the site of the attack, there was a very good chance she was still alive.
Within an hour, Brand had a fresh horse and provisions, and was ready to be on his way. It would he a rugged chase, but he would do everything he could to see Mrs. Stewart returned unharmed. He only hoped he found her in time. . . .
They stopped for the noon meal, then continued on the scout. They had about reached the farthest point from the fort and were almost ready to turn back to be sure that they would reach safety by nightfall.
Craggy, jagged mountains loomed over them and cacti abounded. Sheri and Maureen were fascinated by the landscape. There was a terrible beauty about it that mesmerized them. But where Sheri grew excited about it, Maureen felt only a terrible sense of dread.
"I don't like this place," she told Charles as they rode together behind the others.
"Why not? It's so wild and untamed . . . "He looked around, his love for the land showing in his expression.
"Precisely. What if you needed help out here? What would you do? There's no one around for miles."
"You hope," he returned.
"That's not amusing, especially after finding those tracks back there."
"I can't imagine living anywhere else," Charles said. "The freedom of it "There's freedom and then there's dangerous wilderness. This place seems very dangerous to me."
"Only if you get too close to a cactus," he teased, wanting to lighten the discussion.
"You don't have to worry about me doing
that. I'm going to give them a wide berth."
"Then you'll have nothing to fear."
She grinned at him. "I wish I could see the beauty as you do, but something about this place makes me very uncomfortable, I don't know how to describe it. I just feel uneasy."
"Well, you're new to it. It'll grow on you. Just give it a chance."
"We'll see."
"How's Sheri doing with the lieutenant and Brand?"
"Lieutenant Long's been riding right between them since we broke from lunch. Do you suppose it's time I try to talk to him again?"
"It sure couldn't hurt."
They shared a smile as Maureen quickly invented a good question to distract the officer.
Sheri had been having the time of her life. It would have been absolutely perfect if Philip hadn't been there, but there was little she could do about that. She was stuck with him and would have to do her best in spite of him. When Maureen called out to Philip, Sheri almost let out a cheer of relief. Brand remained quiet when the officer was around, and it was his opinion she wanted the most, his expertise she wanted to plumb.
"So a normal scouting expedition could go on for weeks?" Sheri asked to open the conversation between them again.
"It could. Usually there are troops and mules carrying the supplies, so travel isn't fast, especially when you're in the mountains."
Sheri looked up at the harsh peaks near them and was impressed by their beauty. "It's a shame we didn't make this a two-day scout. I'd like to know what it feels like to camp out here. Id like to listen to the sounds of the night and sleep under the stars."
"It can be beautiful, but it can also be deadly. There are rattlesnakes and scorpions around, not to mention the other more dangerous predators."
"You mean like coyotes and wolves and mountain lions?"
"I mean men. Mankind is more dangerous and deadly than anything else ever put on earth."
"I had no idea you were a philosopher." She was surprised by his statement and chilled by it, too.
"I just say the truth."
We'll, I'm with you, so I'm safe from all harm. You're my new hero."
Brand looked over at her, his expression stony. He didn't know what he had to do or say to discourage her, but he was growing even more annoyed with every passing mile. "I'm no one's hero." His words were hard.
"Don't you understand how wonderful you are?" she countered, thinking of him gracing the pages of her novel. "You saved the captain's wife. You help people all the time. You're perfect."
Her words lashed at him. If there was one thing he wasn't, it was perfect. She might think he was some kind of savior, but he knew the truth. When his protection was most needed, he had failed miserably. The one person in the world he'd loved, he'd let down. He would spend the rest of his days making up for it.
"I'm no one's savior, and I'm no hero. I have a job to do and I do it. That's all."
His tone was so flat that Sheri glanced over at him. His expression seemed almost bleak for a moment before he resumed his usual indifferent look.
"There are those who would argue the point with you."
He shrugged.
She quickly went on, wanting to explain to him why she was doing what she was doing. "My readers want a bigger-than-life hero. They want to believe that good can conquer evil. They want to believe in happy endings."
"Life isn't that way."
"That's why they read my books," she argued. It was all quite logical to her. "Look, I know you're spending this time with me practically under protest. I know you think you have more important things to do. And you do. But Brand, I respect you and your work. I just want the rest of the world to have a hero to look up to, so that for just a little while, they can pretend that things really will be all right in the end. Don't you see?''
"You live in a fairy-tale world, little girl."
"I'm not a little girl, and, believe me, I do not live in a fairy-tale world. I may create one for my readers, but I certainly don't live in one," she fired back, growing more and more annoyed with him. "If I did, you'd be cooperating fully with me on this novel."
She sounded so irritated with him that Brand finally smiled. His smile caught her unawares, and she stared at him in amazement. She'd thought him devastatingly handsome before, but now . . . He was magnificent.
"So, you do know how to smile!" She sounded triumphant.
He quickly sobered. He scowled at her and gave a grunt of dismissal.
O'Toole joined them just then. "Think we should rest the horses for a while before we head back?"
"It's time," he agreed, glad for the interruption. He was finding it more and more difficult to ignore Sheridan St. John. Not only was she beautiful, which was hard enough to ignore, but she had shown up at dawn, dressed like a woman who understood the West, and she was handling her horse with skill. Before they'd started out, he'd expected her questions to be annoying. Instead, she was asking him intelligent, thoughtful ones, and paying full attention to his answers. Too, she wasn't afraid of him, and white women usually were. She was surprising him in every way. Trouble was, he was a man who didn't like surprises.
As everyone dismounted and relaxed for a while,
Brand felt the need to escape. He walked his horse to the top of a ridge a distance away, wanting some peace and quiet.
"He just went off by himselfwhy don't you go after him?" Maureen whispered to Sheri as they shared a drink from a canteen.
"I don't think he likes me very much."
"He's a man. Of course he likes you."
"I don't know. It's almost as though he thinks I'm useless or something. He told me a few minutes ago that I live in a fairy-tale world."
"Well, compared to life out here, I guess New York does look pretty tame."
"That's beside the point. He doesn't respect what I do."
"Then you're just going to have to prove to him that you're different from every other woman he's met."
"That's true enough. He's never had to deal with the likes of Sheridan St. John before."
"Remember Tex Bennett."
"Is that going to be my battle cry?"
"Did it work?"
"Yes."
"Then what are you waiting for? Go interview your scout."
"When did you become so insightful?"
"I'm not. I just know you're frustrated, but you shouldn't be. Look how far you've come. You're not going to let a little thing like a reluctant hero stop you, are you? You're Sheridan St. John. You're on a scout in the Arizona Territory with the man you've been wanting to meet. You can't quit now."
Sheri gave her cousin a quick hug. More determined than ever, she took her bag with her paper and pencil and, leaving her horse with the others, made her way up to join Brand.
Philip started to follow her, but Maureen grabbed him by the arm and distracted him by asking him more questions about himself. It was the one subject that he just loved to talk about.
Sheri watched her cousin in action and was relieved to be free of the lieutenant for at least a few minutes. She approached Brand where he stood alone at the top of the rise, looking very much the solitary scout. She wanted and needed to know more about him.
Brand groaned inwardly when he saw her drawing near. He had come up here to get away from her distracting presence. It seemed there would be no escaping her until he put her physically on the stage for home.
"If I'm going to be accurate in my writing, what else do I need to know about a successful scout?" she asked, determined to get everything out of him she could.
"It's mostly good tracking and luck."
Sheri sat down on a rock nearby, gazing up at him as he stood before her. Outlined against the bright blue sky as he was, he appeared the fearless warrior, battle-hardened and fierce. There was no doubt in her mind that he was the stuff of which legends were made.
"How did the cavalry fare before they started using scouts with your qualifications?"
"You mean before they hired Indian scouts?"
he asked sarcastically as he turned to look down at her.
Her temper flared. She had been nothing but enthusiastic and honest with him from the moment they'd met. Yet, he continually belittled what she was doing.
"Mr. Brand," she bit out hotly, deliberately using the 'mister', "I do not know why you find it necessary to be so sharp with me, but let me assure you, I do not think less of you because of your Indian blood. I am certain that there are many people in the Territory, including one Mrs. Garner, who are very impressed with you and your work. I cannot control what other people think, and you would do well to remember that yourself. Do not project upon me prejudices that I do not share. If you find yourself criticized or ostracized because you are part Indian, then cooperate with me more fully and through the Half-Breed Scout series of books, we can educate people."
She didn't know where the thought had come from, but she was pleased with it once she'd expressed it in words. She was challenging him to ignore his prejudice against her. She wondered if he would take her up on it.
She looked away from him, staring down at the ground, while she awaited his answer. But silence was his only reply for a long minute. It was then, as she was studying the rocks and grass, that she noticed the track. Her worry about his reply vanished as she stared down at the footprint only a short distance ahead of them.
"Brand . . ."
He grunted, his irritation obvious.
"Brand, look!" She leaned closer, studying the track, looking out beyond to see if she could see anybody. "This was made recently. The grass hasn't yellowed yet."
He glanced down and muttered a curse as he quickly bent to inspect the trail. His irritated expression turned to one of caution as he quickly stood and looked off into the distance.
"Go back down to the others and"
Before he could finish his sentence, the first shots rang out.
They had been watching and waiting for the chance. They did not know what the two bluecoats and their scout were doing with the two white women, but they were not going to pass up this chance to ambush them. There were ten of them and they had the element of surprise on their side. They would not wait. They would take care of the larger group first and then go after the scout and his woman.
