with a single dark feather, urged his mount closer. He walked his horse
straight over to Jamie. Then he reached out his hand, and Jamie clasped
it.
The Indian began to speak. Tess didn't recognize a word, but Jamie and
Jon paid rapt attention.
Then Jamie responded in the Indian's own tongue, easily, effortlessly.
Jon spoke, too, then the Comanche again.
"See," Dolly whispered.
"It was a show. It was a performance. There never was any danger."
Tess exhaled silently. One question had been answered for her. She'd
seen something like this before, but there had been differences. She'd
seen the riders--but with saddled horses, in wigs and feathers and
paint. They hadn't ridden like these Comanche. And they hadn't let out
the terrible eries.
They had been absolutely mute, carrying out their silent executions.
But she had a right to be afraid of this show. "What's going on?" she
asked Dolly.
"How should I know, dear? I don't speak that heathen gibberishl" Tess
stiffened, realizing that Jamie was gesturing to her. The Indian he was
talking to urged his pony toward her, followed closely by Jamie. Reining
to a halt in front of her, the Comanche stared at her. He started to
speak.
Tess swallowed.
He was lean, wiry, menacing in his paint, and yet when he spoke he
smiled, and his teeth were good and strong, and the smile gave some
strange appeal to his face. Tess smiled in return.
"What did he say?" she asked Jamie, between bet teeth.
"He said that he did not kill your uncle."
"Tell him I know that."
Jamie spoke, then the chief broke into a barrage of words again.
Lost, Tess kept nodding and smiling.
"What did he say now?"
"Oh. Well, I told him we were traveling to Wiltshire, and that I was
going to try to prove that the white man had been guilty. If you made it
worth my while, that is. The chief is suggesting that you make it worth
my while. He thinks that you should bargain with me."
"Oh!" Tess gasped furiously. As she frowned, the Comanche chief frowned,
too.
"Oh, my, my!" Dolly murmured beneath her breath. "Smile, Tess!" Jamie
suggested casually.
She smiled. She locked her teeth, and she smiled. The chief spoke again,
quietly.
"What did he say?" Tess demanded.
Jamie didn't answer her.
Jon did.
"He said that you were very beautiful, and that Jamie should take good
care of you."
The chief took Jamie's outstretched hand again, then lifted his spear
high and cast back his head. A loud, startling cry rent the air. Then
the riders were kicking up tremendous clouds of dust again, and racing
across the plain.
Moving like quicksilver, they touched the landscape and were gone. They
disappeared over the hill from which they had come.
Then, slowly, the dust settled again.
Jamie turned to the wagon.
"Come on, ladies. Let's make a little time here, shall we?"
Tess caught hold of the reins, called out to the mules and snapped the
leather in a smart crack. The animals started off with a jolt.
A little while later, Jon rode by the wagon. He smiled to Tess and
Dolly.
"Ladies, are you both all right?"
"Just fine, Jon," Dolly told him.
"Tess?"
She nodded gravely.
"Jon, was Jamie telling the truth?" She flushed slightly.
"Did he tell me the truth about all the chief's words?"
Jon hedged slightly.
"More or less. Running River went a little bit further than Jamie told
you."
"Oh?"
Jon shrugged.
"He said that it might have been Apache that attacked you. The Apache
have refused any treaties, they are constantly warlike, and stray bands
have been known to travel in this area frequently. The Comanche and the
Apache have often been enemies."
"Does Jamie know the Apache as well as he knows this Running River?"
"No. The Apache do not want to be known." Tess shivered, and Jori
quickly amended his statement.
"He does know a few of the warriors and chiefs. They will at least talk
to him. He speaks the Apache language as well as he does the Comanche."
"It's all heathen gibberish to me!" Dolly announced. Jon grinned at
Tess, and Tess felt somewhat better. There was something very reassuring
about Jamie's abilities.
Maybe it could be proven that the Apache were no more guilty of the
attack than the Comanche.
Jon waved and rode on ahead.
"I'll take the reins for a bit now," Dolly told her. "You don't need to"
-- "I'll be bored as tears if I don't put inmy part, dear. Now hand them
over."
Tess grinned and complied.
They rode until sunset, then until the first cooling rays of the night
touched them. Jamie and Jon knew the terrain.
Again, they knew where to find water. Tess climbed from the wagon the
minute they stopped, stretching, trying to ease the discomfort in her
back. Jamie pointed out the path through the trees to the little brook,
and she started out in silence, aware that Dolly followed her. The water
moved over rock and along the earth, barely three inches of it, but she
cupped her hands into it and drank thirstily, then splashed in huge
handfuls over her face and throat, heedless that she soaked her gown.
Beside her, Dolly dipped her handkerchief in the water and soaked her
face and throat and arms with it.
"Ah, the good lord doth deliver!" she said cheerfully.
"Jamie! Come on in, the water's fine, Lieutenant!"
Tess froze, aware only then that Jamie was standing silently behind her.
Dolly her ted up her bulk.
"Guess I'll head back and see if Jon's got a cooking fire started yet."
She stepped by. Jamie knelt in Dolly's place. He doffed his hat and
untied the kerchief from his throat, then soaked it as Dolly had. He
leaned low and plunged in his whole head, then rubbed the kerchief over
his throat and shoulders. Tess stared at him, unaware that she did so.
He smiled, watching her. She jumped slightly when he touched her
cotton-clad shoulder.
"You're soaked," he told her.
"I suppose so."
He grinned, recalling memories of a different brook, a different time.
"I rather like you wet."
"You" -- "Ah, now, please, Miss. Stuart!"
She fell silent, but his smile faded and he sat on his haunches, folding
his hands idly over his knees.
"We've got to talk, Tess."
She didn't intend to blush, but color rose swiftly to her cheeks.
Damn him!
"What?" she said harshly.
"Well, I'm waiting to find out if you're going to bargain with me or
not."
She was silent, feeling her body burn. "Well?"
"You are a bastard."
"Come, come, now, Miss. Stuart, will you bargain?" She leaped to her
feet.
"Yes!" she spat at him.
"Yes-and you were right, you knew damned well that I would do so. I am
desperate. You can have anything. Anything that you want."
She swung around in what she hoped was indignant fury. She was suddenly
blinded. She nearly tripped as she started forward. She reached for a
branch to steady herself. "Miss. Stuart!"
he called to her lightly.
"Oh, for God's sake! What now?" she demanded. "Well, pardon me, but you
didn't wait to hear just what it was that I wanted."
"What?" she gasped.
"I said" -- "But, but ..."
She stared at him. He was still seated so comfortably on the ground,
casual now, idly chewing upon a long blade of grass.
"But, but, but, Miss. Stuart! Where is your mind, dear lady, but deep,
deep down in the gutter?"
He stood. Warily she backed away from him.
"Listen, Lieutenant, I'm not sure that you do shoot well enough for all