The Peacemaker

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The Peacemaker Page 12

by Chelley Kitzmiller


  "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

  She had opened her mouth to scream, then recognized the voice. Him! Jim Garrity!

  "That's the second time you've scared me half to death!" She put her hand to her breast, trying to still her pounding heart.

  "Better to scare you than let you go off half-cocked into the desert where you could get yourself killed."

  Breathless and growing angrier by the second she came back at him. "I really don't think it's any of your business where I go." She would have said more if she could have caught her breath.

  "It's not safe for you to go beyond camp," he told her in a low, even voice that might have sounded reasonable to anyone else's ears, but not to Indy's.

  "Thank you for the warning. Should anything happen to me, you can tell them you did everything you could to stop me." She struggled against his iron hold, but his grip was firm, inflexible. She dropped her arms to her sides, pretending resignation.

  "Believe me, Indy, I will do everything I can to stop you. Even if it means hurting you. So don't test me," he warned. Hard and implacable, he was as frightening now as when she had first seen him.

  She shivered at the memory—still so vivid. So terrifying. It was that memory that gave her an uncommon surge of strength. With a violent jerk that caught him off guard, she broke free and started to run.

  "Indy! Don't!" His hand reached out whiplash quick, grabbed her around the waist, and pulled her back with an economy of movement and speed that both surprised and baffled her. "Did you really think I'd let you go? You don't take advice very well, do you?"

  She was trying to catch her breath. "Advice, Major? Funny, it sounded more like a threat to me."

  "Call it whatever you want. It makes no difference. You still aren't leaving this camp!" Overhead the moon peeked between the dark clouds allowing her to clearly see his features. His eyes were diamond bright. Diamond hard. His gaze cut right through her.

  Before, she had been bent on a walk to escape the curious stares and to soothe her wounds. But now, her only thought was to escape Jim Garrity! But how? She was willing to try anything. Fighting. Crying. Screaming. Intimidation . . . .

  Drawing herself up, stiff and straight, she assumed a haughty pose. "It seems you have forgotten your place, Major. May I remind you that I am your commanding officer's daughter? If you don't let me go this instant, I'll have my father charge you with insubordination and he'll have you thrown in the guardhouse!"

  He did release her, but she could see in his challenging expression that she was far from free. He stood staring at her, his long, lean body negligently poised, legs apart, arms now folded across his chest, clearly not the least bit intimidated.

  "The guardhouse, huh? Too bad. I was actually looking forward to riding the cannon."

  Her mouth fell open. "Why would you say—? How did you know—?"

  "Let's just say the colonel is an easy man to figure."

  "You really are impertinent!"

  "Among other things," he replied with cool mockery.

  "Yes, among other things," she agreed, glaring at him. "Arrogant. Insolent. Rude. Despicable. Shall I go on?"

  "Whatever you want. You'll find me most accommodating," he said, raising her ire to the boiling point. "You could try mean, hateful, insolent— Oh, no, you already used insolent. How about—?"

  "How about offensive and contemptible?" she supplied, fussing with the lace edge of her bodice. "That should pretty well cover it, though if I think on it awhile longer I'm sure I'll come up with a few more."

  "Indy. Listen to me. You didn't come out here to quarrel with me and I sure as hell don't want to quarrel with you. If you'll calm down a minute, there's a thing or two I'd like to tell you about what I overheard that bastard father of yours say to you inside." He hesitated when he saw her chin jut out in anger and defiance.

  "I'm not interested in anything you have to say, Major. Especially when you call my father a bastard!"

  "Stubborn as an Army mule, aren't you? Too bad you don't have a mule's savvy."

  Her chin snapped up. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, ready to begin doing battle all over again.

  "It means that a mule is smart enough to know when to quit, unlike his cousin, the loyal and trusting horse, who will run himself to death trying to please his master."

  "Horses! Mules! You're talking in riddles." Militantly, she crossed her arms in front of her and spun around, presenting him with her backside.

  "You know damn well what I'm talking about." He moved up behind her and gripped her upper arms. "When was it that your mother and brother died? Seven years ago? All that time you've tried every way you could think of to earn your father's forgiveness. But you've wasted your time. He'll never forgive you. There's too much hate in him." Strong hands squeezed her tender flesh but she wouldn't give him the pleasure of letting him know that he was hurting her. "It's time to come to terms with the fact that you can't make him forgive you or love you. It's time to quit trying and start living your life."

  Every muscle in her body stiffened in defiance. "How dare you say this to me!"

  "I dare just about anything I damn well please, lady! I always have and I always will."

  She tried every means possible to hold back the tears but nothing worked. They filled her eyes and slid slowly and silently down her cheeks.

  "Indy." There was an unspoken message in the way he whispered her name that told her he regretted having spoken so harshly. She tried to choke back a sob but the effort was beyond her. She was weary of hiding her hurt, tired of pretending that there was still a chance that her father would eventually forgive her. He was right. It was time to face reality; time to give up, to quit.

  She shuddered with the force of her pain and Jim pulled her back against him, fitting her curves solidly against his hard length. His arms bound her in a tight knot of muscle and sinew. There was comfort within his arms. Comfort. Shelter. Compassion. All the things she had longed for. All the things she had never had.

  "What I wanted to tell is that I've seen a lot of smallpox, in the Army and out here. Once it starts it spreads like wildfire. Whole Indian camps, wagon trains, even towns have been wiped out—all from one person passing it to another. It can't be helped."

  She shook her head emphatically. "Father was right, if I had stayed there at the orphanage—if I hadn't come home—" she broke off, unable to continue.

  Bending his head, he rested his chin on her crown. "If. If. If. You don't know that for a fact, Indy." His warm breath stirred her hair and sparked a sleeping fire deep down inside her, causing her to shudder. "The children in the orphanage—they weren't the only ones in town with the disease, were they?"

  When she didn't answer, he moved her slightly to the right and bent even lower so his mouth was at her temple. "Come on now, Indy. Answer me. There were other cases in town, weren't there?" Lifting a hand he took her chin between his thumb and index finger and brought her head around so that they were face-to-face and eye-to-eye. His warm, moist breath, smelling faintly of brandy, intoxicated her as if she had consumed it herself.

  "I—I think so," she managed, but just barely. "Yes, there were other cases." She blinked her eyes and swallowed down her anxiety.

  "Don't you see, Indy? That means that anyone entering your home, a friend, a servant, a merchant, anyone—even your father—could have brought the disease into the house."

  Her eyes widened. "Father?" She pondered the idea, thinking back, but so much time had passed her memories were dim and the way Jim was holding her, touching her, was making it impossible to concentrate. She wondered if he had any idea what effect he was having upon her.

  "Anyone," he stated.

  She stared up at him. "I— That never occurred to me before."

  "You got sick too, didn't you?" At her nod, he added, "But you survived. And now every time he looks at you he's reminded of what he lost. He's the kind of man who has to put the blame on somebody and you have always
allowed that somebody to be you."

  His look of arrogant self-assurance was gone. In its place was a look of-- She hesitated to give it a name, thinking she had to be misreading it, that it was her imagination, and it didn' t really exist.

  He let go of her chin and ran his fingers down the side of her neck and stopped at the base of her throat, his thumb resting on her pounding pulse. He had to know what he was doing to her, touching her like that. He had to be able to see the desire in her eyes, the wanting. Closing her eyes she wet her lips and let herself imagine what his lips would feel like against hers.

  His mouth came down over hers. The imagined kiss was nothing like the reality. This—this she couldn't have imagined without some former knowledge and even then . . . She had seen couples kissing and experienced a chaste kiss or two herself, but nothing had prepared her for the excitement and depth of emotion that he was causing her to feel.

  She felt his hand move back up her neck, then across her cheek to wipe away the trail of tears. His thumb tickled the corner of her mouth, coaxing her lips apart.

  She didn't understand his unspoken request, but she didn't object to it, at least not until the moment when he slipped his tongue between her lips and plunged deep inside her mouth to taste and explore her. Shocked and bewildered, she tried to close her mouth but he refused to let her, and then after a moment she gave in to the awesome sensations he was arousing within her— sensations she had never felt before, never even knew existed.

  Still kissing her, Jim slowly turned her around so she was facing him. With a low moan, that to Indy sounded like he was in pain, he wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss.

  Unsure of herself, she lifted her arms and tentatively placed her hands on top of his wide shoulders, then little by little moved them until her arms were around his neck and she was clinging to him.

  A jagged bolt of white lightning sliced through the clouds illuminating the night. It seemed a fitting symbol of how he made her feel—like she had been struck by lightning. She raised up on her toes and strained against his hard, flat length and every nerve in her body stood up too and danced a jig.

  Suddenly he pulled away, leaving her confused, lost. "Come on," he said in a hoarse voice, and before she knew it, he was leading her around the corner of the building.

  "I really think maybe I should go."

  "No, it's too dangerous." He walked to the end of the next building, away from the people going to and from the reception.

  The walk gave Indy's head a chance to clear so she could think. It had been a mistake to let him kiss her and an even bigger one to kiss him back—no matter how right it seemed—no matter how good it felt. She had been upset and vulnerable and he had taken advantage of her susceptibility.

  Where he was leading her she didn't know, but she knew she couldn't let him kiss her and get her in that position again. Major Jim Garrity was far too persuasive and powerful a force for her to control.

  "Jim! Please. Stop!"

  "We're here," he said, halting abruptly, and before she could make a word of protest, he pulled her around and backed her up against the building, catching her hands between their bodies, and brought his mouth down on hers in a hard, savage kiss that took her breath away and made her weak-kneed. She couldn't move; she was literally trapped between two walls, one of adobe brick and one of hard male muscle.

  He held her face between his hands to prevent her from turning her head to the side. Where before he had been tender, now he was almost cruel in the way his tongue pillaged the inside of her mouth, and when he was done there, he moved down the curve of her throat, his lips hot and wet, his tongue a flaming torch that set something inside her on fire.

  At last, she worked her hands loose but her plan to use them to gain her freedom was gone and instead—as if they had a mind of their own— they found their way around his neck and clung.

  He groaned and his mouth moved even lower, to the soft swells of her breasts that rose and fell rapidly with her heavy breathing. His hands were there now too, outside her dress below her breasts, lifting and squeezing them as his mouth worked over their tops.

  Suddenly he straightened and his mouth came back to hers with an urgent demand that she felt in his hands too as he grasped her hips.

  "Indy— God, woman, if you had any idea how long it's been . . . and what you're doing to me." Then he showed her exactly what she was doing to him by pressing her flat up against the adobe and pushing his lower body into the folds of her skirt.

  "No. My God, no," she protested, feeling his hardness, and afraid of him now that she understood what he was doing and what he wanted of her. Afraid of herself too because she didn't really want him to stop. But her complaint died under the onslaught of his kiss and she felt his hips grinding mercilessly against hers, spreading the fire of passion throughout her body.

  Off in the distance, a lone coyote called out to its mate and she felt his muscles contract and become tense. It came again a second later and he lifted his head to listen. He stared down at her, his expression agonized. It seemed to Indy that he looked to be in a great deal of pain as if he had been wounded.

  "Indy, listen to me," he whispered close to her ear. "Don't make a move or say a word. We've got some uninvited guests."

  Alarmed and frightened she stared into his eyes, hoping he would tell her they weren't in any danger.

  "Who—?"

  "Apaches. There's three of them, maybe four. I'm going to reach my hand down between us and get my knife, so don't make a move."

  "No. I won't," she whispered, barely moving her lips. Looking down, she saw his hand remove the wicked-looking blade from the sheath attached to his belt, then slowly bring it up between them.

  "Now, as soon as I make my move, I want you to run back to the reception and get Nolan. Don't stop for anything or anybody. Understand?"

  She gave an imperceptible nod and he placed a quick kiss upon her trembling mouth.

  "Now!" He pushed her away.

  She ran like she had never run before. Behind her she heard that frightful cry. Shatto's cry.

  "Hai-eee! Hai-eee!"

  Chapter 9

  Indy ran as fast as she could, driven by the knowledge that Jim would need help to fight off the Apaches. She hadn't gone more than a dozen yards when a bolt of lightning slashed across the sky and struck the roof of the butcher's building directly in front of her. Wood and adobe splintered in every direction sending Indy to her knees, screaming. She tucked her chin into her chest and covered her head with her hands to protect herself from the flying debris and from the deafening explosion of thunder that accompanied the lightning.

  The ground beneath her vibrated with the sudden fury of the storm.

  It seemed the world was coming to an end.

  The first drops of rain fell cold and hard upon her neck and arms. Like a turtle peeking out of its shell she raised her head and looked about. The butcher's building was on fire; tongues of flame escaped from the roof and through the windows, carrying with them the overpowering smell of roasting beef.

  Then she saw him: an Apache warrior. Cold fear washed over her and her heart pummeled her chest like a blacksmith's anvil. She pushed the hair away from her eyes and strained to see through the rain and smoke. He seemed to have come straight out of the inferno—a demon from hell. And now he was riding directly toward her, his horse bearing down hard upon her.

  Shaking, she struggled to her feet and stood as if bolted to the ground, unable to move so much as a muscle.

  Nearly upon her now, the warrior bent low over the galloping horse's neck and leaned off to the right, stretching his arm toward her. At the last possible second instinct took control. She darted away, avoiding the Apache's reach by a scant inch. She picked up her skirts and ran toward the burning building, her screams following her like a pennant.

  If she could get past the fire, she could make it to the mess house. She saw herself dashing through the doorway into the middle of the reception an
d announcing that she and Major Garrity had been attacked by Apaches.

  The next second changed everything.

  The Apache's horse came galloping up from behind. She could hear its hooves pounding the hard ground but had no idea how close or far it was. Glancing over her shoulder she saw the horse gaining on her. She knew she couldn't outrun it, but neither could she change her course. She had to go on. Jim's life depended on it and so did hers.

  She had no sooner turned back than the horse came up even with her, then abruptly swerved. By the time Indy saw what was happening it was too late. She couldn't stop soon enough. She hit the horse's flank and bounced backward. The ground rose up to meet her and everything went black.

  Indy blinked her eyes open and groaned. When she tried to take a breath she realized that the wind had been knocked out of her. She panicked and clutched her throat.

  Hovering over her, watching her like a hungry vulture, was the warrior. He made some sort of guttural sound that drew her gaze. He had frightening eyes, shiny like bits of volcanic glass set deep into his face. His features were ugly and his skin thick and scarred. But most fearful of all was his mouth—a sharp, narrow-lipped gash that split his face.

  When he bent down to reach for her, blessed air came rushing back into her burning lungs. She gasped and gasped again, each breath deeper and stronger than the one before. Each breath filling her with the dusty-wet odor of him. Each breath possibly the last.

  She winced when he jerked her to her feet. He half dragged, half carried her across to his mount. Then he tossed her onto the animal's back and vaulted up behind her, capturing her legs beneath his to hold her while he quickly removed his headband and tied her wrists together behind her back.

  She hurt too much to put up a fight and besides she knew it was useless; he was twice her weight and half again her size, a giant of a man. His arm whipped around her middle eliciting a small, pained cry, which he ignored.

  Taking his reins in his left hand, he snapped them over the horse's withers and the animal moved forward. They had ridden only a short distance when they stopped. Indy saw that it was the same place where she had left Jim a short time ago.

 

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