This Savage Heart

by Patricia Hagan

  Myles stared at him and cried, "You mean you're going to just let him get away?"

  It had been a long night. "He's only one man," Derek snapped. "I've got the whole damn wagon train to look after, and right now, what matters is getting those people to El Paso. We've got the guns. Let the Indians deal with Vance. He's no doubt going to be running from us and from them. It'll keep him out of trouble for a while. Now let's get going."

  Myles and Thomas looked at each other and then looked away. Arnhardt was probably right.

  Above, out of sight on an overhanging ledge, Arlo Vance lay on his belly, watching the scene below. As he listened, his fingers had trembled on the triggers of the guns he held in each hand. How he had wanted to shoot, to watch them bleed and writhe in agony on the ground as they resisted eternity. But no. That would be taking a chance. He might not have been able to hit all three of them. He wasn't about to make a stand alone.

  Well, they had the guns, but they didn't have him, and he could always get more guns. Arlo Vance watched them until they were out of sight. A coyote on a faraway ledge cried out, a long wail, intensifying and echoing across the desert.

  Chapter 10

  On the landing at the top of the stairs, Julie stood watching the gaily decorated lobby. The people of El Paso were welcoming the wagon train with a warmth that far surpassed previous celebrations.

  Directly below, Derek stood with the others, resplendent in a pale blue suit, a red velvet string tie at the collar of his stiff, white shirt. She smiled, thinking of his ruggedness on the trail, contrasted with seeing him dressed like a distinguished doctor or lawyer.

  As she watched, Julie noted the admiring glances of the other women. Two young girls stood to one side, exchanging whispered giggles. One stepped to Derek's side, tossing cascades of blond curls as she engaged him in conversation.

  He's mine, Julie thought joyfully, for always and always. How she wanted to run down the stairs and throw herself in his powerful arms.

  Suddenly aware that someone was beside her, Julie turned toward Teresa. How tired she looks, Julie thought, so drawn, so haggard. She hoped a few days in a hotel would ease Teresa a little.

  Teresa touched Julie's arm affectionately. "Are you sizing up the competition?" she teased, nodding toward Derek and his admirers. "They find him as attractive as you do."

  Julie laughed softly. There would always be women vying for Derek's attention. "I suppose I'll just have to stay on my toes. It's almost sinful for a man to be so attractive, isn't it?"

  "And for a woman to be as beautiful as you are, Julie," Teresa told her sincerely. "He's yours—as I sensed he was from the first time I saw you two together." She nodded with satisfaction. "I just don't know why you're waiting to get married," she went on. "You could have the ceremony here, at that charming mission."

  Julie agreed, but she did understand why Derek felt they should wait until they had reached their destination. The way ahead was perilous, and how could he concentrate on his duties if he had a new bride riding in his wagon? There wasn't room for them to sleep comfortably in the supply wagon each night, and if they lived in that wagon, Thomas would have to find other accommodations. It was not sensible to buy another wagon. Who would take its reins each day? No, Derek was right. They would wait.

  She explained to Teresa, who reluctantly nodded in agreement. Then Julie decided it was time to join Derek downstairs. Kissing Teresa's cheek, Julie lifted the skirt of her white velvet gown and descended the staircase. Derek had delivered the gown to her hotel room that morning. She had protested the lavish gift, but he had placed a fingertip against her lips and firmly reminded her that he did what he wanted, when he wanted.

  When Derek caught sight of her, he took her hand and drew her to his side, much to the disappointment of the young women hovering around him. "Colonel Thimes," he said to the austere-looking officer he been talking with, "allow me to present to you my fiancée, Miss Julie Marshall, of Savannah, Georgia."

  The girls who had gathered around frowned and whispered, then turned away in disappointment. The colonel took the hand Julie presented and kissed her fingertips, bowing. "Had I known Georgia produced such beautiful women, Miss Marshall, I think I might have been tempted to switch my allegiance to the Confederacy."

  Colonel Thimes was wide-shouldered and stood ramrod-straight in his dark blue uniform, chest covered by gold buttons and battle ribbons. He wore the lean, hard expression of a man who would not change his convictions for any reason, and she knew he hadn't meant what he'd just said. This man would never be anything but a Yankee.

  "The colonel flatters me." She made her tone light, but she looked him straight in the eye. "But tell me, is there news of the war that might be pleasing to Southern ears?"

  Colonel Thimes frowned. This was no silly female who challenged him with those bright, emerald eyes.

  "War news is never pleasing to either side, Miss Marshall," he responded crisply, his awe of her striking beauty mitigating, a little, the resentment her question evoked. He flashed a smile beneath his neatly trimmed mustache. "If there is satisfaction in all this, it belongs to the Union. We have just learned that our General Sherman has captured Columbia, South Carolina. Fort Sumter, which has the unfortunate distinction of being the scene of the start of this sad war, has been abandoned. Our troops are marching on North Carolina, and with President Lincoln being inaugurated for a second term, we are confident that this tragic war will soon draw to an end. The Confederacy struggles on, but we are bringing them to their knees," he finished firmly.

  Derek sensed trouble and placed a warning arm around her tiny waist, but she wouldn't be dissuaded.

  "Colonel, the war may end, but the spirit of the Confederacy will live on long after you and I are dust."

  There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Then she continued. "Intelligent people will know the war for what it was, a war of Northern aggression. And as for General Sherman, he's a heartless rogue who orders his men to wreak a path of destruction that would cause a crow to starve in its wake. He allows his soldiers to pillage and murder. Sherman—a soldier? I think fiend is more like it."

  People listening gasped, and Colonel Thimes's astonishment was clearly mirrored on his frozen face.

  Derek, who ordinarily would have stood aside and let Julie's fury vent itself, took mercy on Colonel Thimes and led her into the room set aside for dancing.

  "You asked for it, Julie," he told her, "when you asked for news that 'might be pleasing to Southern ears.'"

  She gave her long hair an arrogant toss. "I hate to be placated, Derek. It infuriates me."

  "You were rude, Julie," he said.

  "I suppose I was. I will apologize before the evening is over."

  She did. The terrible news had crushed her, but nothing crushed Julie for long. And manners were manners. She found Colonel Thimes standing next to a refreshment table, and she apologized for her rudeness. After a moment of silent regard, Colonel Thimes forced a smile and said, "I find it refreshing that a young woman can be both beautiful and educated, Miss Marshall."

  "Please," Julie said, sighing, "do not patronize me, Colonel. You may feel that you're complimenting me, but I don't feel complimented. There's nothing wrong with a woman possessing knowledge of what goes on in the world. Women have minds, Colonel. Men like you cause me deep distress.

  "I'm sorry," she continued wearily, "but you don't seem to bring out the best in me."

  To her surprise he laughed, and she felt his indignant facade crumble.

  "I do find you refreshing, by God. You've got spunk and spirit. We need more women like you out here. And I'm not being patronizing. I mean it sincerely."

  She matched his warm smile. "Why, Colonel, I accept your compliment as such and I thank you. Perhaps we shall not be enemies after all."

  "I hope not. What is to be gained if North and South remain enemies after the last gun is fired? No, my dear, we must all work together for peace. We must build our nation again."

&n
bsp; "I agree." She nodded.

  "Friends?" He smiled.

  "The beginning of friendship," she offered.

  * * *

  She and Derek danced for an hour, then another hour, drinking champagne between dances and flirting with each other outrageously.

  The only other man she danced with was, to her chagrin, the self-important Lieutenant Hargrove, recently transferred to El Paso.

  "I'm afraid there's a good deal of danger on the trail your wagon train is traveling," he informed her. "It's called the Butterfield Trail, in case you didn't know, in honor of the first president of the Overland Mail Company."

  "If it's dangerous," she asked bluntly, "why doesn't Colonel Thimes give us an escort?"

  "Quite simply," he responded airily, "we have no men to spare. With more and more pioneers heading west to escape the war, the Indians are getting restless. We anticipate trouble, more bloodshed, and our first duty is to the territory here, around Fort Bliss. When the war ends and more soldiers are sent out here, then we can provide troops for escort. You should have waited for a later wagon train," he added, smiling.

  Julie got away from him as quickly as she could, and found Derek at the refreshment table.

  "I have a right to know what lies ahead," she told him. "Are we going to be attacked by Indians, Derek?"

  "We don't know what lies ahead," he said. "We know there's a possibility of danger from Indians, and we're going to be prepared." He shook his head. "Worrying about it doesn't do a damn bit of good, so will you just enjoy the evening and stop putting every man you meet through an inquisition?"

  Julie agreed. Only time could tell her any more, anyway. They danced again, and she reveled in the admiring stares of other women. She allowed Derek to lead her around the dance floor for introductions to townspeople and officers from Fort Bliss. She enjoyed meeting new people.

  The evening wore on, and all too soon Myles came up to announce that he was taking Teresa upstairs to retire. Derek suggested Julie get some sleep, too. "Colonel Thimes invited me to his quarters for a brandy with two other officers. There may be a chance I can talk him into giving us an escort at least as far as Fort Bowie. Then we'd be only a little over a hundred miles from Tucson."

  "Hurry to me, please," she begged as he held her tightly against him.

  "You'll have me as soon as I've talked to the colonel." He smiled. Then he released her and turned her toward the doors leading back into the lobby. "Go now. I'll be there as soon as I can, but it may be a while. Sleep lightly so I don't have to wake up Myles by beating on your door." She made a face at the thought of Myles's reaction to a late-night visit, and then she made her way back through the lobby and upstairs to her room. A happy glow filling her, she undressed and reached for a nightgown. Then, feeling deliciously wicked, she crawled beneath the covers naked. Sinking back against the pillows, she thought about Derek and the visit to come. In moments, she was sound asleep. She did not hear the door open, did not hear the stealthy footsteps across the floor.

  Chapter 11

  Julie stared in dazed bewilderment at the face looming over her. Cold, dark eyes were glaring down at her. There was nothing in those eyes but hate.

  She was not in her bed, not in her hotel room. And then she understood, with heart-wrenching terror, that this was no dream. The loathsome thing above her was real. It had long, coarse black hair straggling around a reddish-brown face. It was a young girl. Her breath smelled foul, and there was a terrible odor around her.

  "What do you want with me?" Julie whispered hoarsely, moving just enough to feel herself bound hand and foot.

  From the darkness a man said, "She didn't bring you here. I'm the one who wants you."

  She knew that voice! Arlo Vance! "You!" She spat, furious, struggling to see around the girl's face. "How dare you? How dare you?" She was too angry to be frightened.

  "You belong with me," he said simply. He came into view, flinging a hand out to shove the girl's face away. "Get out of my way," he snarled, and the girl tripped and fell to the floor.

  Leaning over Julie, he declared, "You must forgive Sujen. She's jealous. She's been my woman for the past week or so. No doubt her Indian lovers never satisfied her as I have." He smiled. "That's the trouble with Indian men, they take their own pleasure and don't give a damn whether their squaw enjoys it or not. I'm not like that, as you will learn. Soon we'll have the right to consummate our love."

  Julie stared at him, whipping her head from side to side as she struggled against the bonds.

  "Now, now, you're going to make the rope cut into that lovely flesh." He covered her wrists and stopped her. "Are you wondering where you are? Calm down, and I'll tell you a few things so you won't be frightened anymore. You don't have to be afraid of me, you know. I won't harm you, not unless you make me, Louise...." He froze, then forced a smile. "Listen to me, calling you by my sainted wife's name. No matter. In time, when I teach you her ways, you will become her, and then we'll just change your name from Julie Marshall to Louise Vance.

  "Now, then." He settled himself on the side of the pallet she was lying on, careful not to lean against the stakes that bound her ropes. "We're in a little hut that I discovered on a mountain near El Paso. It isn't much, but we won't be here long. You'll see that, other than this pallet, there is no furniture. The floor is dirt. The hut's hardly large enough to turn around in. But there's a roof and four walls to protect us from the harsh mountain winds. There's a pit, for a fire. It's adequate for our needs at the moment, as I'm sure it was adequate for the prospectors who prob'ly built it."

  He nodded to Sujen, who crouched in the dirt a few feet away, lips curled back over yellowed teeth. "Don't let her scare you. She knows I won't hesitate to slit her throat if she harms a hair on your head. She's Navajo, one of the Indian women Colonel Kit Carson gave to the Utes in exchange for their helping him and his soldiers make war on her people. She learned to speak English from a missionary who lived in their village for a while. She says the Utes raped her and she got pregnant. They didn't want any half-Navajo brats born in their village, and they don't touch pregnant women anyway, so they kicked her out. I came along and found her and saved her from starving. So I kept her.

  "But"—he paused for a dramatic sigh—"now I have you. You're going to be my wife.

  You don't have to worry about sharing me with her, but we can keep her for a slave if you want to. What do you think?" He smiled.

  She knew better, but she said it anyway. "You're insane, Arlo. And you won't get away with this."

  He shook his head in mock sympathy. "Oh, my poor, dear Julie. You've been corrupted by your friends. Why, when I found you naked in your bed, I covered you up. Even my dear Louise, who warmly welcomed my passion, would never have been so shockingly audacious. But we'll change all that, and I'll help you become the decent, well-bred lady you were meant to be, worthy to replace my sainted Louise."

  As calmly as she could, Julie said, "Let me go and we'll pretend this never happened."

  Arlo pretended to consider that, then once more shook his head. "No. No, I don't think so. See, I went to a lot of trouble for you. I should have left here long ago, but I waited because of you."

  He looked at her steadily. "I waited because I knew I could never let you go. You're like Louise. You're mine."

  Turning to his squaw, he barked, "I'm going out to get some supplies we'll need for our journey. While I'm gone, give her a bath. And she needs something to wear. I wonder what we—"

  Sujen spoke, her voice sharp. "She not wear my skin!"

  Arlo wrinkled his nose. "Hell, no, don't put your nasty buckskins on her. You smell like the animal you scraped them from, Sujen. I might as well mate with a buffalo. Wrap her in the blanket I used to carry her in."

  Suddenly his arm shot out. His hand wrapped around the Indian's girl's neck so tightly her eyes bulged. He squeezed hard, and hissed, "Heed me, bitch! You treat her well, see?"

  He released her, flinging her into the dirt. Turni
ng back to Julie, he was instantly tender. "Don't worry, my love. I'm going to make you happy. You'll see. A few more runs with the guns, you by my side, and we'll find a peaceful place on some lovely mountain. There I will make you my queen. We'll have babies, lots of babies... and you will truly be my precious Louise. I will cherish you for always and always."

  He leaned forward, lips parted, and a low, guttural sound escaped from someplace deep inside Sujen. Arlo hesitated. Later there would be time for his passion.

  He straightened. "Do as I told you, Sujen," he yelled. "I'll be back by dark. Have her clean and warm, and have supper cooking."

  Sujen mumbled, "No way to hunt."

  "I'm not giving you a knife, you fool," he said sarcastically. "Kill something with your bare hands. There'd better be food cooking when I get back."

  A loud shriek split the stillness as Sujen went into an uncontrollable rage. She began screaming in Navajo and threw herself at Julie, who was helpless beneath the pummeling fists. But only a few blows landed before Arlo wrapped his fingers in Sujen's long hair and flung her across the hut.

  "I warned you, bitch!" he cried hoarsely, jerking his belt from his trousers. "You need another lesson, and this one you're gonna remember."

  Sujen curled into a ball, arms wrapping protectively around her swollen belly.

  "Arlo, no!" Julie screamed as the belt whistled through the air and cut into Sujen's flesh. "You'll hurt the baby. Oh, God, don't!"

  The leather cracked again and again as Sujen writhed on the floor, not trying to cover her face, covering only her stomach. Blood began to ooze through the buckskin, and Julie sobbed. "Arlo, damn you to hell!"

  He froze. The belt fell from his hand. He turned slowly to stare down at Julie. "Damn me to hell? Damn me to hell? Is that what you said, Louise? Lord! No!" He fell on his knees beside her pallet. "Oh, Louise, forgive me. To think I provoked you to curse me! I'm so sorry. Say you forgive me, please, please...."