And why shouldn’t she dream that one day she might know the strength of those long, slender fingers on her body, and the feel of his breath on her lips?
The fire popped and crackled as fat from the roasted birds dripped into the flames. The hoarse, sharp cry of an eagle pierced the thick and murky dusk. Blaze clutched the blanket a little more tightly to her breast.
“Yes,” she whispered.
The clicks and grunts and squeaks of the night filled the air with sound, although the fire had grown silent and only embers glowed. Blaze’s belly was full and her river-washed clothes felt good against her skin. She sat with her knees drawn up, arms folded over them, chin on her forearms.
Stars blanketed the sky, but the moon was only a sliver. She was glad of the darkness. It was difficult not to look at him. Blaze sighed quietly, taking a deep breath and releasing it as slowly as she could.
The sense of unreality had deepened. The morning, the near-drowning in the river, seemed a hundred years ago. Ring, Sandy, and Rowdy might have been people she had merely dreamed, her entire sojourn in Phoenix a chimera. All that existed was now, this moment, sitting in the night with a light-eyed, half-breed Apache. A man whose mission was the same as her own. They were killers. They would not rest until their murders had been done.
Adding to the fantastical nature of the situation was an undeniable attraction to Bane. Bane.
Bane of the white man.
Bringer of Thunder to the Apache.
A shudder trembled through Blaze’s body. She wasn’t sure what it all meant yet; his name, his destiny. Her fate joined to his. The path they would travel together that was starting in darkness. She knew one thing only.
She was drawn to this course as surely and strongly as the eagle is drawn to the sky. It seemed she had known it, somewhere deep in her soul, the very first time she had seen him. She had known, in her heart, that meeting him on the mountain was no coincidence. She knew he had followed her, and she had felt him. Even as she felt him now, sitting alone in the darkness. His eyes were open, regarding the night, she knew, though she could not see. His ears took in every sound of the desert, his skin felt each nuance of the wind.
What seemed a long time later, Bane rose and unfolded the blankets he had neatly put away. He laid them on the ground, side by side, and gestured to them wordlessly.
Blaze’s initial reaction was not an honest one. She shook her head and reached for the blanket to move it to the opposite side of the fire. She never got any farther than bending down.
He had pulled her from the flood, shared his warmth with her. He was her companion now, for good or evil. She ignored her foolish response and lay down at his side.
Once again he shared the heat of his body with her. She was aware of every inch of it where he pressed against her side. It was nothing compared to the heat that inexplicably churned in her belly.
The desert had grown silent by the time Blaze felt her eyelids grow heavy. Bane had not moved so much as the twitch of a single muscle. His breathing was deep and regular.
It was a blessing to slip over the threshold of sleep at last.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LYING ASLEEP FOR SO LONG BLAZE FELT DROWSY AND thickheaded. She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked around her sleepily.
Bane was nowhere to be seen. His blanket was folded, and she saw that he had left a piece of jerky and a canteen for her lying on top. As she chewed on the dried bison meat, she attempted to restore order to her hair. It was then she noticed his saddle blanket and saddle were gone. It didn’t surprise her. She hadn’t sensed his presence.
The day promised to be warm and cloudless. Blaze idly plucked at an errant tuft of grass and squinted into the bright blue sky. The sun had risen halfway to its zenith, and she began to wonder what Bane was about. She hadn’t long to question before she heard the distinctive rhythm of hoofbeats. Her heart quickened to the beat.
Beyond the lightly grassed riverbank where they had passed the night was a thick, hedge-like growth of sage and mesquite. Shadowing it was a stand of cottonwood trees. Blaze looked in their direction, ears alert to the sounds Bane must make when he approached her.
“I trust you slept as well as you slept long.”
Blaze spun on her heel. Her heart threatened to jump out of her chest.
“You have eaten. Good. It is time to go.”
Blaze took a moment to allow her heart and respiration to get back to normal. She retrieved the blanket she had folded.
“Put it with my bedroll, across the mare’s withers. You will ride behind me.”
A now-familiar sadness pricked at Blaze’s eyelids. “I’ll need to find a horse of my own soon. I need to catch up with Ring, let him know I’m safe, anyway. I’m sure he’ll give me another.”
Bane remained silent, thoughtful, for a long moment, eyes slightly narrowed. Blaze had the distinct feeling he was looking directly into her heart.
“We will find your friend,” he said abruptly. “It will not be difficult.”
What was difficult, Blaze found, was riding behind Bane. He took his foot from the stirrup so she could use it to mount. The black mare shifted nervously as Blaze swung onto her back and automatically reached around Bane’s waist to steady herself. Her heart increased its rhythm at once, and her arms, where they touched him, felt as if they burned. She snatched them away and gripped the cantle of his saddle.
Bane had merely to tighten his legs around the black mare’s girth and she bounded away. Blaze was nearly unseated and forced to throw her arms around Bane’s body again. Surrendering to the melting heat of it, she closed her eyes and concentrated instead on the motion of the horse.
It took only a few short moments to return to the ford. Blaze saw at once that the torrent had subsided. A shallow, narrow stream ran down the center of the riverbed, and the mare leaped it daintily. She moved back into an easy lope.
Blaze had expected Bane to ride straight along the trail. The signs of a herd of horses and a trailing wagon, heavily laden, were evident. But he turned instead and rode along the edge of the river. It was much the same as the opposite side, with brush and a scattering of cottonwoods. Thin patches of grass grew in sunlight close to the water. Bane halted.
“Your horse … he was valuable to you?”
Blaze hesitated. It occurred to her Bane might think her foolish if she told him what was in her heart. On the other hand, she was certain he would think less of her if she didn’t tell him the truth.
“Not only was he a gift from a friend, but he … he was my … companion. I cared about him very much.”
Bane made a sound that could have been a grunt. He threw his right leg forward, over the mare’s withers, and slipped to the ground. “Come with me.”
Puzzled, Blaze followed Bane. He moved quickly through the brush and into the shade of a trio of cottonwoods. Blaze felt a sob catch in her throat.
The horse had been grazing. He looked up when he saw the humans approach, and his ears pricked sharply. He whickered a greeting and tossed his head, then started in Blaze’s direction.
“Lonesome,” Blaze murmured, face pressed to his warm, sweet-smelling hide. Her arms wrapped about his neck. When she was sure her tears had dried, she turned back to Bane. “Thank you,” she whispered, not trusting her voice.
“I did nothing, merely used my eyes to see him.”
Blaze patted Lonesome’s shoulder, and felt her saddle and bedroll to make sure all was still intact. “Still damp, but everything appears to be in order.”
Without another word, Bane returned to his mare and mounted. Blaze checked her horse’s girth, pulled a piece of grass from his bit, and swung into the saddle. It felt good. Smiling, she followed Bane.
The land sloped steadily uphill. Mountains reared up on either side of them, and an occasional rockfall forced them to find new trails. Only an occasional weed or scraggly cactus clung to life in shallow crevasses in the cliff faces. Hawks wheeled overhead.
The tracks they followed
were hard for Blaze to see, but Bane seemed to have no trouble whatsoever. They rode along steadily, until the sun turned into a flaming ball that hung just above the horizon. At that moment they reached a plateau, and the horses jogged for the joy of level ground beneath their feet. Before them spread a vast tableland covered in short, dry, yellow grass, dotted with boulders and small patches of stunted prickly pear. The entire land was bathed in pink. It was a sight that filled her with a kind of quiet content. Another sight filled her with joy.
A herd of horses grazed on the mesa, heads low, tails swishing. Near a cook wagon, a spiral of smoke from a cook fire curled into the sky.
Blaze glanced briefly at Bane, but his features were devoid of expression. She wanted to thank him, but knew what his reaction would be. Instead, she urged Lonesome into a canter and headed toward the grazing horses.
Ring sat atop a reasonably smooth boulder, forearms on his knees, head hanging. He ignored the enticing smells coming from Rowdy’s oversized skillet. He paid no heed to Sandy, who rode slowly around the perimeter of the herd. He did not notice the concerned glances the two men exchanged when Sandy’s route took him past the cook wagon. He was alone with his misery, and it was exactly where he wanted to be.
There was no denying it, not any longer. He had loved Blaze, loved her with all his heart, all his soul. She was beautiful, her beauty both wild and delicate at the same time. Merely watching her had fascinated him, she was so at ease within her skin and moved with such grace. The speed with which she had learned to ride a horse was remarkable. The passion with which she undertook to learn each new task had amazed him. To his dying day he would miss her, and he would carry regret with him to his grave. Ring sighed heavily and scrubbed the stubble on his chin with both hands.
He never did find out what had happened in her past that had set her on the course she had followed. She was hell-bent on revenge, that much he knew. But he did not know who, or why. Perhaps, if he had known, he might have been able to help her. If she had loved him in return, just a little, he might have been able to change things for her.
He could not, however, change the course of the river that had taken her. Despite his grief, Ring wondered if it wasn’t better this way after all. What would her life have been like if she had pursued her death quest? How could she, a woman alone, have tracked down and killed whoever it was she thought needed killing?
He remembered how she had told him, coolly, of killing a man for the bounty. He supposed she had it in her. The passion she applied to everything else would surely aid her in her search. But what then? What would be left of her life if she achieved vengeance? It was a lonely road she had wished to travel, and in the end there would have been nothing but more loneliness.
No. Ring shook his head. It wasn’t what he wanted for her. It was no life at all. And his kind of life, the things he could have offered her, would never have been acceptable to her.
In spite of all the rationalizing, however, the depth of Ring’s grief was bottomless, and from the abyss came bitter tears that spilled down his cheeks and threatened to unman him. He covered his eyes.
“Ring? Hey, Ring.”
His head came up, and his gaze found Sandy. “Ring … look.”
He turned in the direction Sandy indicated. His jaw dropped.
It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. He had seen her go into the river. He’d seen her in the grip of its power, saw her go under…
Ring didn’t even care who the rider was who followed at a distance. His mind could contain only one thought as he started to run toward her. She was alive.
As soon as Blaze saw his face, she realized what he had been through, and her heart ached for him. Her only thought was to comfort the man who had been so kind to her, who had become her greatest friend.
Blaze slipped from Lonesome’s back before he’d come to a full halt. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to step into the embrace Ring held wide for her. She returned the strength of his arms, and reveled for a long moment in the comforting feel of his hug, and the warmth of his friendship. When they stepped apart at last, Ring held on to her shoulders and examined her, drank in every inch of her, from head to toe.
“I thought you were dead,” he said hoarsely.
Blaze gave a small, mirthless chuckle. “So did I. And I would have been, but for Bane.”
Ring finally surrendered his attention to the second rider. He recognized him immediately. He recognized something else as well, and dropped his hands from Blaze’s shoulders. He gave a single nod to the still-mounted man.
“I guess I owe you thanks. All of our thanks,” Ring added pointedly, and indicated Sandy and Rowdy with a gesture. “Blaze is … a very good friend.”
Bane remained silent, his expression unreadable. Ring turned back to Blaze.
“We looked for you. I never would have left if I thought there was a chance you could be—”
“Hush.” Blaze laid a finger to his lips. “I know you never would have left if you’d thought there was any hope for me. Even I had given up hope. It’s a miracle Bane was able to save me.”
Blaze looked up at Bane, and Ring saw something in her gaze that added fresh pain to his already injured heart. He took a step away from her.
“Well, I … I guess the least we can do is offer you hospitality. Rowdy’s been cookin’ somethin’ that smells real good, and there’s plenty of room around the fire for two more bedrolls.”
Once again Blaze looked at Bane, and Ring saw him give the faintest of nods. Ring felt mingled relief and heartache.
She was alive. He’d have a few more hours in her company. But any frail hope he had ever harbored that she might change her mind and ride on with him tore into tatters and was blown away in the night breeze that blew across the plateau. Forcing a smile to his lips, Ring turned and walked back into camp.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“… AND SELL THE HERD IN WESTPORT,” RING RE-plied to one of Bane’s rare questions. “By summer’s end we’ll be on our way west again, pickin’ up more horses, then south for the winter. Start the process all over.”
If Bane had a reaction to anything Ring said, Blaze couldn’t tell. She watched the firelight flicker over his features, but it was only shadow and light that moved. His expression never altered.
“Yeah, start all over agin,” Sandy repeated, and rubbed his hands together nervously. He cast a sidelong glance at Bane. No matter the man had saved Blaze. There was something about him that made Sandy as wary as a cat on a porch full of rockers. His silence, maybe. Or those light eyes. He looked at Rowdy, but he was calmly whittling a stick into a toothpick.
“Well.” Blaze cleared her throat. “I’d like to thank you for the dinner, Rowdy. And you, Ring. Thanks for … everything.” She left it at that.
“That sounds a lot like a good-bye to me,” Ring replied. He said it lightly, although his spirit was anything but light.
Blaze shifted uncomfortably. She resisted the urge to look over at Bane. There would be no help for her there anyway.
“I’ve … I’ve decided to go on with Bane,” she said at length. “We’re headed in the same direction, and—”
Ring held up a restraining hand. “You don’t have to explain, Blaze. You’re a grown woman, able t’make your own decisions.”
Blaze knew how hard the words were for him. She swallowed back a lump in her throat. It wasn’t easy for him, she knew, to watch her ride away, much less alone with a man like Bane.
“I’ll be back this way again, like as not,” she added. “Don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily.” Blaze attempted a smile, but failed.
“Think I’ll turn in,” Rowdy said to no one in particular.
“Good idea,” Sandy said quickly. The other three remained motionless while Sandy and Rowdy moved from the fire to lay out their bedrolls.
It was Blaze who finally gave up, the tension grating on her like sand.
“It’s late for me, too,” she said, and left
the circle of light. She was grateful for the cool darkness, and spread out her blankets without further ado.
It wasn’t long before she heard the sounds of the other two men preparing for the night. Neither said a word to the other. Blaze turned over and buried her face in her blanket, musty smelling from the river. It was a long time before she slept.
Dawn came swiftly to the high plateau. The night breeze had stiffened, and the horses stamped and snorted, eager to be off. Having said her good-byes to Sandy and Rowdy, she watched them move off with the herd. Now came the most difficult moment of all.
Ring sat astride his favorite bay mare. Blaze remembered the first time she had seen Duchess. And Sandy and Ring.
She maneuvered Lonesome alongside Ring’s horse. She didn’t want to look at him, face the sadness she knew she would see there. But she owed it to him. It was her turn to bear a part of the burden, a portion of the pain.
“There are things I have to thank you for that I can’t even put a name to,” Blaze began quietly. “You’ve helped me in so many ways, Ring. Given me so much.”
“Not one ounce more than you gave me,” Ring replied soberly. Then the corners of his mouth lifted into the semblance of a smile. “‘Cept one thing. And I believe mebbe you should be a bit beholdin’ for it.”
Blaze’s brow arched. “Anything,” she said quickly. “Tell me what it is. I’d do anything to repay you, Ring.”
He touched a finger to his temple and traced a streak of lightning. “Your name. It’s a pretty fine and fancy name I gave you there, in the mountains. Think mebbe I’d like to have some compensation.”
She heard the levity in his tone and tried to return his smile. “Name your price, Ring Crossman.”
He held his smile for a moment longer. It slipped away without will or conscious thought. “When you get through this, Blaze,” he said softly. “When you get to the other side of whatever it is, I’d like to know your real name. Where you come from. How it all began.”
Blaze of Lightning Roar of Thunder Page 10
