Apache-Colton Series

by Janis Reams Hudson

  Spence kept his eyes on LaRisa and moved toward her as slowly as he dared. The farther he got from his rifle, the worse their chances of surviving.

  The gun beneath his chin jabbed. “Not that easy, amigo. Walk faster. Are you not in a hurry to watch how your woman enjoys Miguel?”

  Bile rose in Spence’s throat. He forgot every oath he’d ever taken as a doctor, every vow he’d ever made to help his fellow man. By God, if these bastards didn’t kill him, he would castrate the next man who touched her.

  Something flickered in LaRisa’s eyes. A message he couldn’t read. In the next instant, her eyes rolled back and she went limp in her captor’s arms.

  Julio felt the woman slump against him. Believing she had fainted from fear, he automatically loosened his hold on her. He was then too busy enjoying the feel of a woman sliding down the front of his body to notice the slight tug on his holster.

  Spence feared maybe LaRisa really had fainted. Maybe that had been terror in her eyes, instead of some silent message. In any case, it was the best thing she could have done. The three bandits were temporarily distracted. Even the man holding him let the gun beneath Spence’s chin drop. This was Spence’s only chance to make a move.

  With his right elbow he jabbed the bandit sharply in the windpipe and jerked the gun from his grasp. Then everything seemed to happen at once.

  Miguel drew and aimed at Spence.

  “No!” LaRisa raised Julio’s gun and fired point-blank at Miguel. Her bullet struck him in the chest in the same instant as he fired at Spence. Her shot and Miguel’s sounded as one.

  Miguel stumbled backward and fell, a surprised look on his face.

  Spence felt the searing sting in his left arm and knew Miguel had winged him.

  Julio slammed his fist into the side of LaRisa’s head and knocked her down.

  With a roar of rage, Spence dropped him with a bullet through the head. Julio pitched forward headfirst, his body arcing over LaRisa where she lay crumpled on the ground before he slammed face-first into the dirt just beyond her.

  At a sound behind him, Spence spun and shot the third man through the heart.

  The sudden silence was startling. Breathing heavily, Spence rushed to LaRisa’s side and dropped to his knees. Blood was everywhere. Bright, hideous red, across her white blouse, her neck, her cheek. Dear God, so much blood, and she was so damn still. “LaRisa!” Frantic, he pressed two fingers to the carotid artery in her throat.

  Thank God, a pulse, strong and steady.

  His hand came away bloody. Frantically he searched for the source of the blood.

  Only half conscious, LaRisa fought to push away the hands running over her body.

  “LaRisa? It’s me. Take it easy, honey, don’t move. You’re hurt. Where are you hurt?”

  At the sound of his voice so near, LaRisa stopped struggling. “Spence?” She opened her eyes and tried to sit up.

  “No.” He pushed her back down. “Lie still.”

  It was another full minute before Spence realized the blood was not hers. No bullet had struck her tender flesh. No bones were broken. Only a mark on her cheek and a small knot forming on the side of her head. He slumped in relief and rested his head on her shoulder. “You’re not hit. It’s not your blood.”

  He allowed himself only a moment of weakness, then he straightened. “Can you sit up?”

  With his help she pushed herself upright. The sight of the blood down one of her sleeves made her stomach roll. A glimpse of Julio’s dead body lying a few feet away, Miguel’s next to it, made her turn toward Spence with a shudder.

  Spence pulled her gently to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s all right. It’s over. It’s over.”

  “I’m okay,” she insisted.

  He knew it was a lie. She was in shock. When her mind cleared…

  But they didn’t have time. “We need to get out of here.”

  “Your arm,” she cried. “You’ve been hit! I’ve got to get your bag and—”

  “There’s no time for that. They might have friends in the area. Even if they don’t, those shots are liable to attract somebody we might not want to meet. Can you ride?”

  She clenched her fists and nodded. “Yes. I’m all right. Just let me bind your arm.” She pulled the bandanna from around his neck and knotted it over the gash along his upper arm. “What are we going to do about them?”

  Spence rose and helped her stand. “I’ll drag them behind the rocks. We’ll take their horses with us. Three saddled horses running loose without riders will have somebody poking around. I imagine the people at Pa-Gotzin-Kay can use three extra horses.”

  LaRisa nodded and looked for a way back to her horse that didn’t involve stepping over bodies.

  “Come over here and sit on this rock while I take care of things. You can watch the trail, make sure nobody sneaks up on us.”

  LaRisa wouldn’t hear of sitting still while Spence dragged the three bodies off behind the rocks. She started collecting the dead men’s guns. “The People can surely use weapons and ammunition, too.”

  “We don’t have time, LaRisa, we need to get out of here before someone comes along.”

  “It won’t take long. I’ll gather while you drag.”

  Spence gave in, but refused to let her strip the bandoliers from the bodies. It was heavy, disgusting work, and he could do it faster.

  They stowed the weapons and ammunition on the bandits’ horses, then Spence dragged the bodies out of sight. When he helped LaRisa mount—she might not have needed help, but Spence needed to touch her again, to reassure himself she was all right—he felt her trembling. “We’ll be at the canyon in a few hours. Can you make it?”

  LaRisa took a deep breath and looked into Spence’s eyes.

  He looked back with concern and the remnants of fear and rage.

  “I can make it,” she vowed.

  After tying the bandits’ horses to the pack mules, Spence led out at a brisk canter. Every few minutes he looked behind him to check on LaRisa. He didn’t like having her out of his sight. He would have preferred that she ride beside him, but the rocky trail was too narrow.

  Within an hour they hit the Rio Agua Prieta. The course was almost dry, a bare trickle winding down its center. When the August rains came in a few weeks, Spence knew it would turn into a rushing torrent. He followed it to its junction with the down-Bavispe. By midday they had crossed the canyon and were up in the highlands. They wound their way through a jungle of Spanish dagger, cholla and Joshua, broken here and there by an ancient lava flow. Brittle brush grew between cacti and lava.

  Thank God Serena had detailed the area for him, or he would never have found his way to the giant tumble of rocks that hid the narrow entrance down into Canyon de los Embudos.

  The hidden canyon had been the favorite hideout of the old Chiricahua leader, Chihuahua. The Apaches called the place Cos-codee, which meant No Escape. It was here where Geronimo came down from the mountains and met with General Crook years ago, just before Crook had been replaced by General Miles.

  It was also here, before that, where Serena had been taken by a kidnapper.

  It stood to reason that if that one white man had found the canyon, others could have, too. Spence reined in at the entrance and waited for LaRisa to pull up beside him.

  Her face was still pale and drawn, and her eyes held a vacant look of shock, even hours after their ordeal. He quivered with the need to sweep her into his arms and hold her tight, to convince himself she was all right.

  To do so before he’d checked out the canyon would be foolish, he knew. He clamped down on the urge. “I’m going to check the canyon, make sure no one’s there. I want you to wait here with your rifle drawn and ready. If anyone shows up, don’t bother asking questions, just shoot.”

  She blinked, and her eyes cleared. She pulled the rifle from her scabbard and placed it across her thighs.

  “Risa?”

  “I’m all right. I’ll wait here for you.”


  Docility did not become her, and it worried him. God, he hated leaving her, but he couldn’t chance leading her into a second ambush. He had to know the canyon was empty. He searched her gaze, and the smile she tried to give him nearly broke his heart. He was sure his own smile wasn’t much better.

  Reluctantly, yet knowing it couldn’t be avoided, he handed her the lead to the pack mules and extra horses and turned his mount toward the entrance to the canyon.

  “Spence,” she called softly. “Be careful.”

  Spence rode back to her side and brushed a knuckle across her cheek. “I’ll be careful.” He leaned over and touched his lips to hers. “You stay safe.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  As she watched Spence disappear through a cut in the rocks, LaRisa brought her hand to her lips, still feeling the tingling warmth of his too brief kiss.

  She forced her gaze away and scanned the desert, determined to keep careful watch. In her peripheral vision she could see the blood stains on her sleeve. Julio’s blood. It had splattered on her when he tumbled over her after Spence shot him. Beneath the stain, her skin crawled with the desperate need to rip the fabric away and let the burning rays of the sun cleanse her. So, too, did the flesh of her breasts shrink from the dirty smudges left by Miguel’s hands when he’d grabbed her and squeezed.

  LaRisa swallowed and tried to push the memories away. She couldn’t let herself dwell on them. Nor could she let herself remember that she had killed a man. She had fired a bullet into his chest and watched him drop dead.

  He would have killed Spence. He had it coming.

  Yes. The outlaw Miguel had deserved to die. If she could remember that, without remembering his touch, without remembering the sight of him aiming his pistol at Spence and squeezing the trigger, she might be able to keep from letting the scream that was building in her chest escape.

  She stared across the lava and cactus until her eyes burned. It seemed forever before Spence returned to tell her the canyon was deserted. It was safe to enter. She led the mules and extra horses through the cut in the rocks and down into the ravine while Spence wiped out what he could of their passage. Removing all trace of five horses and three mules was virtually impossible, but he knew that someone would have to look hard to find where they’d left the trail. He hadn’t been raised with and by Matt and Pace for nothing.

  Inside the ravine, Spence led LaRisa to a clear pool surrounded close by willows. Beyond the willows, sycamore, ash, cedar, and buckthorn grew in profusion. The remains of old campfires dotted the open spaces. Nearby, an overhang of lava created a sheltered campsite concealed by willows. It was there where Spence decided to set up camp.

  They didn’t speak, didn’t even look at each other as they unloaded the animals and set up their camp. Spence built a small fire and filled the coffee pot with water from the pool. He located their bag of sugar and set it beside the coffee. She was in shock, and he planned to get something hot and sweet into her as soon as possible.

  While the water heated he hobbled the animals so they wouldn’t stray far in search of the choicest grass. Once the coffee was ready, he poured a cup, added sugar, and put it to LaRisa’s lips.

  LaRisa gagged at the sweetness.

  “Drink it,” Spence urged.

  She took another sip, then turned away.

  “All of it.”

  Too exhausted to argue, she took the cup from his hands and drained it. A few minutes later, she felt life flowing back into her limbs, and with it, a deep shudder. Against her will, her mind started functioning again.

  No longer could she pretend the attack hadn’t happened. No longer could she forget she and Spence had almost been killed. No longer could she forget she had killed one man, and the blood of another stained her clothes. With a hoarse cry, she ripped off the blouse with its hideous reminder and tossed it into the fire.

  “Risa?”

  Standing in her low-necked chemise and divided skirt, she turned toward the sound of Spence’s voice, to the security it offered. He extended his arms toward her, a pained look on his face. With his name on her lips, she rushed into his waiting embrace. The dam that had been holding back her emotions broke. Deep shudders racked her.

  Spence swung her up into his arms and took her to where he’d spread out his bedroll next to hers beneath the overhang. There he sat down and held her in his lap. With his back against the rock wall, he clung to her and let his own shakes come.

  They held each other for long moments, drawing and giving strength and comfort. Finally Spence felt himself steady to the point that he could feel the silky softness of her bare arm against his fingers as he stroked her.

  “I’m glad you burned that shirt,” he said quietly. “When I reached you and saw the blood, I thought it was yours and I…God, LaRisa, I’ve never been so terrified in my life as I was right then.”

  LaRisa raised her head from his shoulder and met his gaze. “I’m all right. Really.”

  He smoothed a loose strand of hair from her cheek. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded.

  Spence couldn’t help but notice the expanse of copper-colored skin exposed by the low cut of her chemise. The garment was one of her new ones, he realized. One of the sheer silk items Joanna had snuck into the stack of clothes LaRisa bought the day Enrique made Spence measure her for boots. The dark tips of her breasts showed through the sheer fabric. Spence trailed his fingers along the pale blue ribbon that trimmed the neckline. On the next pass, his fingers brushed the bared swell of her breasts. “You had bruises here when we met. Will you again? Did he hurt you?”

  LaRisa swallowed. “He didn’t hurt me.”

  Her eyes belied her answer. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Her gaze faltered, then drifted away. She shivered. “He made me feel…dirty.” She brushed at her chest as though to wipe away the bandit’s touch. “Soiled.”

  “No,” Spence said softly. He caught her hand and pressed it to his lips, then held it against his thigh while he leaned down. “You’re not dirty or soiled.” His lips brushed the swell of one breast, then the other. “You’re pure and innocent and clean.”

  All of Spence’s feelings of inadequacy, feelings generated years ago by his malaria, rose up to haunt him. He should have taken better care of her. Should have been able to protect her better. What man put a woman in such danger as he’d put her in today? He knew he had no business getting married, committing himself to a woman when half the time he couldn’t even take care of himself. But damn, it had never occurred to him that he couldn’t handle a simple trip. “God, I’m sorry, LaRisa. So damned sorry you were hurt.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  Spence raised his head to meet her pained gaze. “Wasn’t it? I led us right into their trap. I was supposed to be taking care of you, keeping you safe, and instead I—”

  “No,” she cried. “You couldn’t have prevented it. No one could have known they were waiting to ambush us. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I’m the one who insisted on coming to Mexico. If I hadn’t been so stubborn, none of this would have happened.” Anguish darkened her eyes. “My God, Spence, I…I killed a man today. I’m an Apache. We’re supposed to be good at killing. I never thought it would bother me, but…I took a human life, and it makes me sick just to think about it.”

  “Then don’t think about it,” he said harshly. He squeezed her hand. “That wasn’t a human life you took. You didn’t kill a man, you rid the world of one more scavenger—a vulture who preyed on innocent people. A greasy, filthy…the bastard touched you, he hurt you. He deserved to die. They all did.”

  LaRisa allowed a small smile. “I remember thinking he deserved to die for—your arm! He shot you! Oh, Spence, I forgot about your arm. Let me see it.” She tugged frantically at the knot in the bandanna covering the wound.

  “It’s just a crease.”

  “I’ve heard it said that a physician who treats himself has a fool for a patient. I’ll see for myself,
if you don’t mind.”

  That night sleep eluded Spence. Every time he closed his eyes he kept seeing LaRisa in the hands of the bandits, and cold chills swept down his spine. She could so easily have been seriously hurt. Raped. Shot. Killed. Over and over the memories and fear played through his mind.

  Until the attack, he had halfway hoped that she wouldn’t like what she found at Pa-Gotzin-Kay, that she would want to go back to the Triple C. After today, though, he had to hope that she found what she was looking for in the mountain stronghold. She would be safer there than any place he could think of, other than the ranch.

  But at the ranch, she claimed she wouldn’t be happy.

  She deserved a chance for happiness. Lord knew, at the rate he was going, she wasn’t about to find it anywhere near him. He’d brought her away from Alabama against her will. Who was he to say she couldn’t have made a decent place for herself among the tribe there? If the government moved the Apaches to Fort Sill in Indian Territory, maybe things would improve for The People. She could have put her nursing skills to good use if she’d stayed with them.

  At the Triple C, she would soon have begun to feel useless. The place ran with the precision of a well-oiled machine.

  Maybe Pa-Gotzin-Kay was the place for her. For her sake, he hoped so. He resigned himself to leaving her there, if that’s what she wanted.

  LaRisa was equally as sleepless that night, and for similar, yet oh, so different reasons. She determined that no matter what she found at Pa-Gotzin-Kay, she would stay. She had to give Spence his freedom.

  How many times had she been the cause of trouble for him?

  Because of her father’s illness, Spence had been forced to marry a stranger he wanted nothing to do with, merely to get her away from Carlisle. He’d had to feed and clothe her. She’d cut open his face, caused him embarrassment and arguments with his family, cost him no small amount of money, not to mention inconvenience. Now she’d even gotten him shot.

  Tomorrow when they reached the stronghold, she would set him free. Maybe by doing so, she would regain control of not only her life, but her emotions. Her body.