Apache-Colton Series

by Janis Reams Hudson

  She rolled her head against the wall and wished she were that cricket. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about what to do.

  She’d been home from the Triple C for two days and hadn’t made a move to leave. How could she go back east to have the child and expect Tucker and Simon to stay here and do all the work? They’d spent most of the day tracking a coyote who’d killed a sheep the night before, so the hay they’d cut earlier was still stacked next to the barn. She wanted to get it up into the hayloft before the next rain. There was so much to do.

  Then there were Shanta and Chee. She’d have to take them to Cochise before she left. And if she didn’t take them soon, her condition would be obvious to her observant adoptive father. She had no desire to discuss it with him.

  And when she left for Boston, what would Travis think? Not that she’d find out, because she had no intention of telling him her plans, or even seeing him again for that matter.

  Daniella sat in the darkness for hours as her thoughts rolled round and round. Eventually the square that was her window took on an orange tint. She stared unblinking, and it grew brighter. The others would be up and about any moment.

  She sniffed and caught a whiff of smoke. Someone must already be up and starting a fire for breakfast. Probably Tucker. She’d been so deep in thought she hadn’t heard him.

  What an odd color the sunrise had this morning.

  Daniella straightened away from the wall and sat upright.

  Another trace of smoke reached her nostrils. That’s not wood smoke.

  She made it to the window in a single leap. The orange glow wasn’t coming from over the mountains in the east, but from somewhere on the other side of the house!

  Fire!

  She raced out of her room, banging on Tucker’s door as she flew past. “Fire! Fire, Tucker!” She didn’t wait for a reply, but ran out the front door and into the night, heedless of her nightgown and bare feet.

  The haystack was burning! And it was entirely too close to the barn for comfort.

  Flames crackled and leaped up one side of the stack, great gray and black clouds of smoke rising and hovering. At least the horses were out in the pasture. Thank God there was no wind to spread the fire.

  Daniella had no idea how to put out a burning haystack, but instinct sent her racing to the well. By the time she lowered the bucket and raised it again, she knew it would take too long to do any good. But she didn’t know what else to do!

  When she returned to the fire, Simon, who’d been sleeping in the barn, was there with a shovel. As fast as he could, he shoveled as much dirt as possible onto the burning side of the haystack.

  Around behind, where the fire hadn’t reached, Tucker wielded a pitch fork for all he was worth, tossing the unburned hay as far away as his skinny arms could manage. Shanta and Chee, who’d been sleeping in the barn with Simon, were helping Tucker, carrying hay in their hands.

  Daniella started to toss the water from her bucket onto the flames, but Simon waved her away and pointed at the barn. He meant for her to wet down the dry timber to help keep the fire from spreading.

  By her third trip from the well, the flames were out. All that was left was a small pile of smoldering hay. Simon had ended up leaving off with the dirt and resorted to beating the flames with the shovel.

  Tucker and the boys had managed to save about a third of the stack.

  Soot, ashes, and exhaustion covered all five of them. Daniella was vaguely surprised to notice dozens of tiny black-ringed holes in her nightgown. Caused by sparks, no doubt, although she was too tired to care.

  She made one more trip to the well, but this water was for drinking. The five of them drained the bucket in a hurry. No one had yet spoken a word since Daniella had shouted, “Fire!” at Tucker’s door.

  Tucker finally broke the silence. “I’ll swan, girlie. A body never gets bored around you, that’s for certain. Did ya smell the kerosene?”

  Daniella jerked her head up. “What kerosene?”

  “The kerosene I smelled when I first came outside. The kerosene what stared this fire.”

  Daniella hadn’t thought to wonder how the fire had started. She hadn’t had time. She glanced at Simon, and he nodded that he, too, had smelled kerosene. But none of them had heard or seen anything.

  A deep shiver ran through her. Kerosene meant arson. There was no way any of them had spilled the stuff anywhere near the haystack. Someone had deliberately set the fire. But who? Why?

  “Soon’s it’s light, me an’ Simon an’ the boys’ll have us a look around. See if we can spot anything. Sun’ll be up soon, girlie. Why don’t you go get some sleep?”

  After being up all night, then fighting the fire, Daniella was too tired to argue. She nodded her head then stumbled to the house. She didn’t even wash the soot from her face and hands or change her gown. Instead, she fell onto the bed in a stupor and went to sleep.

  The first thing Travis noticed when he rode through the narrow entrance to El Valle a few hours later was a heavy layer of gray smoke hanging thirty feet off the ground from one end of the valley to the other. He knew instantly there’d been a fire. Worried, he kicked Buck into a gallop and raced toward the small cluster of buildings at the other end.

  When he reined Buck in at the house, Tucker hailed him from in front of the barn.

  “What happened?” Travis demanded as he dismounted and tied the stallion to the porch post.

  Tucker snorted. “Fire.”

  “No kidding,” Travis said, rolling his eyes. He caught sight then of the smoldering remains of the haystack. “You people should be more careful. You could have burned the whole place down.”

  “The kinda care we need ta take ta keep from havin’ fires like this one is ta post guards around the place.”

  Dread knotted in Travis’s stomach. “You mean it was set?”

  “Yep.”

  “How? Who did it? Was anybody hurt?”

  Tucker lifted his hands and counted off on his fingers as he spoke. “Kerosene, got no idea, and no, nobody was hurt. The girl’s in the house. Might still be sleepin’.”

  Travis closed his mouth with a snap. He’d looked for Daniella, hadn’t seen her, and was just about to ask where she was. Was he so obvious that the old man could see right through him?

  He didn’t care. Right now all he wanted to do was see Dani, see for himself she was all right. He started toward the house, then stopped.

  “Any tracks?” he asked Tucker.

  Tucker aimed a stream of tobacco juice at a lizard and missed. “Yeah,” he said. “Too many, and all ours.”

  Travis walked into the house and looked around. There were dishes stacked in the wash tub, and coffee sat warming on the stove, but no Dani. He stepped quietly to the closed door at the other end of the room and stopped. If she was asleep, he didn’t want to wake her. He tapped lightly. No answer.

  He should leave. He should go outside and wait until she woke up. He wanted to talk to her about the way she’d sneaked off from his ranch the other day. It wasn’t like her to take the coward’s way out, and it wasn’t like her to be rude by not telling anyone but Matt good-bye.

  He’d gritted his teeth for two days before riding over here to see her. Before his conscience spoke up, he turned the knob and eased the door open a crack. As his eyes searched and found her sprawled face down across the bed, he chastised himself. Since when had he stooped to spying on a sleeping woman? It made him uneasy. He started to close the door and step away, but then his brain registered what his eyes were seeing.

  Good God.

  Her bare feet, hanging off the bottom corner of the bed, were covered with dirt and soot and what looked like dried blood. An angry red burn marred the inside of her left ankle.

  The white cotton nightgown that would hang to the floor when she stood was bunched up around her knees, leaving her soot streaked calves bare. The whole garment was pockmarked with burn holes, and the ruffle at the right wrist was singed half away. Her long black a
nd white hair spread out in tangles across her back and shoulders.

  Travis took it all in in seconds, then shoved the door open. Damn, couldn’t she stay out of trouble at all? He made no effort to be quiet when he stomped back to the kitchen, then returned a moment later with a bowl of water and a rag.

  Daniella heard the clomping of boots on the wood floor. She groaned and mumbled, “Go away,” but it may not have come out right, because the boots didn’t leave. She eased back into sleep and dreamed of splashing water and something cool, wet, and soft on her feet. It felt wonderful. She sighed and rubbed her cheek against the pillow.

  Then something warm and hard—fingers?—touched the bottom of her foot, and it tickled. She giggled in her sleep, but the sound of her own voice woke her. With a yawn, she stretched and arched and wiggled her toes. The warm thing was still there.

  Cool wetness touched the raw burn on her ankle. It stung. Daniella jerked her leg and pushed herself up on both elbows.

  “Be still.”

  The deep, familiar voice froze her muscles for a moment.

  Then she kicked the hand from her foot and scrambled across the bed until she sat, panting, with her back to the wall and her nightgown tugged down tight over her bent knees.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded, her eyes wide, her chest heaving, and her wits scattered.

  Travis knelt at the corner of her bed, one knee on the floor, the other foot flat, knee raised. He propped one hand on his hip and leaned an elbow on his upraised knee. A wet, dirty rag dangled negligently from his hand. He raised his eyebrows in feigned innocence and said, “Washing your feet.”

  Daniella frowned, lifted the hem of her gown just enough to see her toes, then frowned some more. She raised her gaze back to his face. “Why?”

  Travis snorted. There was no other way to describe it. It was a snort. “Somebody has to look after you. You couldn’t stay out of trouble if you tried, could you?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  His face hardened and his mouth tightened. “You had no business running around in the middle of the night trying to put out a burning haystack. Look what you’ve done to yourself?” he said sweeping a hand in the air. “You could have been seriously injured, or worse.”

  “I’m supposed to ignore a fire that close to my barn? This whole place could have gone up in flames if we hadn’t got that fire out when we did.”

  “And you damn sure had no business doing it barefooted, and in your nightgown.”

  Daniella ground her teeth in righteous indignation. “What I do, how I do it, and what I wear while I’m doing it are none of your business. Get out of my room.”

  “If I do, will you get dressed and come out so we can talk?”

  “What time is it?”

  “I don’t know. Around ten, maybe.”

  “Then no, I won’t get dressed. Now go away. I’ve had maybe three or four hours of sleep. I’m tired.”

  “If you’d learn to sleep at night, like a normal person—”

  “My sleeping habits are none of your business.”

  “Dani—”

  Daniella closed her eyes in frustration. “Get out.”

  “Not until you tell me why you left the way you did the other day.”

  She opened her eyes. “I left because it was time to come home.”

  “You snuck off like a thief in the night. Why?”

  She felt her face heat up. “I did not sneak.”

  “Neither did you bother to tell anyone but Matt you were leaving.”

  She looked away, unable to meet his direct stare. In her mind she saw him again as she had that morning, his lips glued to Carmen’s, Carmen’s arms wrapped around him, his hands on Carmen’s shoulders.

  Travis dropped the rag he still held into the bowl of water by his knee. “Was it…because of what happened? Because I kissed you?”

  Her face grew hotter.

  “Dani, you must know I want you. But surely you also know I wouldn’t hurt you or scare you for anything. You know that, don’t you?”

  She glanced at him, saw the earnestness in his face, and glanced away. “I told you. It was time to come home. It had nothing to do with…the other.”

  “Prove it,” he said softly.

  Her gaze jerked back to him. Her heart whacked against her ribs. “What—” She swallowed and tried again. “What do you mean?” Did he mean to kiss her again? Here? In her bedroom? Her mouth went dry.

  “Come home with me.”

  It was the last thing she’d expected to hear. “What for?”

  Travis heaved a sigh and flexed his shoulders. “Because in your condition you’ve got no business trying to work this place.”

  She’d been expecting—no, to be truthful, she’d been hoping for—a kiss. Instead, he brought up a subject she’d just as soon never discuss. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. “How indelicate of you to say so, Mr. Colton.”

  Travis matched her glare. “Well damn it, somebody’s gotta look after you, ‘cause you damn well don’t look after yourself.”

  “I can look after myself just fine.”

  “Sure you can. That’s how you got yourself hooked up with me in the first place, looking after yourself. You try to do me a favor, and you end up in a knife fight with an Apache. You try to sleep and you wake up screaming. You go to town and get yourself shot. You come home and get yourself burned. That’s how you take care of yourself. And what are you going to do up here with no one around but Tucker and Simon when the baby comes? You going to take care of yourself then, too?”

  Daniella gasped. Unmarried men and women simply did not discuss things like having babies. It just wasn’t done. “I think this conversation has gone far enough. You can leave now. Thank you for your concern, but I assure you, you needn’t worry about me. I’m not your responsibility.”

  “Changing the subject won’t make it go away, Dani.”

  “I should be so lucky,” she muttered to herself.

  “At least think about coming back to the ranch. You’ll have your own room, and I won’t bother you. You won’t have to lift a finger, and Rosita and Juanita can take care of you when the baby comes. You shouldn’t be up here working this place in your condition.”

  “So I’m supposed to just leave? Leave Tucker and Simon with all the work?” As she spoke the words, she realized their truth. If she went to Boston, she’d be abandoning Tucker and Simon, shirking her responsibility to them and El Valle. She buried her face in her hands and groaned. She couldn’t leave. Not for Boston, not for the Triple C.

  “Think about it,” he said softly. “Meanwhile, at least let me send one of my men up here to help you keep watch.”

  “Keep watch for what?” she asked, raising her head but not looking at him.

  “For whoever set that fire last night. Do you have any idea who might have done it?”

  She gave a little half-laugh. “Anyone from town? I’m sure I made more than a few enemies that day.”

  “Especially Crane. Isn’t he the one you said was squatting here when you first came?”

  She nodded. Travis was right. Crane now had a double grudge against her. It could have been him who set last night’s fire.

  “I’ll send Benito as soon as I get home.”

  “No,” she said quickly. “There’s no need. We’ll keep our own watch. Besides, Consuela and the children need him. I don’t.”

  “Dani—”

  “Travis, please. I appreciate your concern, but it isn’t necessary. I thank you for everything you’ve done for me. You think you owe me something, but you don’t. Any debt there may have been was canceled when you stood with me in town the other day. Just go home, Travis. I’m tired.”

  She watched first anger, then frustration flash across his face before his expression went carefully blank. He stood slowly and towered over her.

  “All right. I’ll go,” he said softly. “But I’ll be back.”

  And before she could guess his i
ntentions, he leaned down and kissed her. Hard. Right on the lips.

  Chapter Twenty

  A week later, from his hideout in the hills, Billy Joe Crane watched the lights in the small valley below flicker out one by one. He could have wished for a darker night, but he was tired of waiting. That fire he’d set last week in the haystack hadn’t done the trick. It was time to give the girl reason to move on.

  He glanced up at the sky again. The heavy cloud cover was lit from behind by a full moon, leaving the sky a whitish gray instead of black. What the hell. At least he’d be able to see what he was doing.

  The big dummy, the one who didn’t talk, had moved the sheep and that damn dog to the other side of the stream. That should keep the dog from smelling him. At least long enough for what he had in mind.

  Crane’s eyes focused on the pale outline of the house. He knew the girl would be sitting out front, like she’d done every night for the past week. When did the little bitch sleep? He sure hoped tonight put the fear of God into her. Or the fear of Crane. He grinned at the thought.

  Yep. It was time she left. He wanted that house. And the valley. And the gold he knew was there.

  Prospecting was a damn uncomfortable way to live, and dangerous, too. He and his four partners learned that lesson last summer. Camped out in the open, as usual, the damned Apaches took them by surprise, sneaking up on them just before sundown while Two-Fingers Dan was turning that scrawny jackrabbit over the fire.

  It had happened so fast they hadn’t even been able to get to their guns. When Crane came to the next morning his shoulder was pinned to the ground by a six-foot lance. Two-Fingers Dan and the others were dead. The horses were gone.

  Goddamn, he hated Apaches.

  Ever since then, he hadn’t been overly fond of camping out, either. But how’s a fella supposed to find gold while sleepin’ in a house?

  The adobe in El Valle was the answer to all his problems. He could live inside its snug walls at night and dig up the gold during the day.

  And there was gold. He’d found it and it was high grade ore. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the small, fist-shaped nugget he’d found in the dead man’s pocket last summer. It was smooth and warm, and it’s little friends, wherever they were hiding, would set him up for life. All he had to do was find them. That might take some doing. It was a cinch they weren’t laying up on the porch where the dead man had been.