She held it against her as she watched him secure his saddlebags again. She wouldn’t cry. Biting her lip hard to make sure, she vowed she would never cry over him. He didn’t want her. It had just been a whim. He preferred another kind of woman. After dragging the duster around her shoulders, she walked to the horse.
“I can mount,” she said coldly when he took her arm.
With a nod, he stepped back, then vaulted into the saddle behind her.
Chapter Eight
The crack of the rifle echoed over the rock and sent a lone hawk wheeling. Sarah gritted her teeth, cocked the lever and squeezed again. The empty whiskey bottle exploded. She was improving, she decided as she mopped her brow and reloaded. And she was determined to get better still.
Lucius wandered over, Lafitte dancing at his heels.
“You got a good eye there, Miss Sarah.”
“Thank you.” She lowered the rifle to give the pup a scratch. Jake was right. He was going to be a big one. “I believe I do.”
No one was going to have to rescue her again, not from a rattlesnake, not from Apache marauders, not from the wrath of God himself. In the two weeks since Jake had dropped her, without a word and apparently without a thought, on her doorstep, she’d increased her daily rifle practice. Her aim had sharpened a great deal since she’d taken to imagining that the empty bottles and cans were Jake’s grinning face.
“I told you, Lucius, there’s no need for you to watch my every move. What happened before wasn’t your fault.”
“I can’t help feeling it was. You hired me on to keep a look out around here. Then the first time my pants’re down-so to speak, Miss Sarah-you’re in trouble.”
“I’m back now, and unharmed.”
“And I’m mighty grateful for it. If Jake hadn’t just ridden up…I’d have tried to get you back, Miss Sarah, but he was the man for it.”
She bit back the unkind remark that sprang to mind. He had saved her, had risked his life to do so. Whatever had happened afterward couldn’t diminish that.
“I’m very grateful to Mr. Redman, Lucius.”
“Jake just done what he had to.”
She remembered the knife fight with a shudder. “I sincerely hope he won’t be required to do anything like it again.”
“That’s why I’m going to keep a better eye on you. I tell you the God’s truth now, Miss Sarah, worrying after a woman’s a troublesome thing. I ain’t had to bother since my wife died.”
“Why, Lucius, I never knew you’d been married.” “Some years back. Quiet Water was her name. She was mighty dear to me.”
“You had an Indian wife?” Wanting to hear more, Sarah sat down on a rock, spreading her skirts.
He didn’t talk about it often, at least not when he was sober. But he found he was making himself comfortable and telling his tale. “Yes, ma’am. She was Apache, one of Little Bear’s tribe. Fact is, she’d’ve been some kind of aunt to him. I met her when I’d come out here to do some soldiering. Fought Cheyenne, mostly. That would have been back in ‘62.
Didn’t mind the fighting, but I sure got tired of the marching. I headed south some to do a little prospecting.
Anyways, I met up with John Redman. That was Jake’s pa.”
“You knew Jake’s father?”
“Knew him right well. Partnered up for a while. He and his missus had hit some hard times. Lot of people didn’t care much for the idea of him being half-Apache.” With a little laugh, he shrugged. “He told me once that some of his tribe didn’t care much for the idea of him being half-white. So there you go.” “What kind of man was he?”
“Hardheaded, but real quiet. Didn’t say much less’n you said something first. Could be funny. Sometimes it wouldn’t occur to you for a minute or two that he’d made a joke. He was good for a laugh. Guess he was the best friend I ever had.” He took out his bottle and was relieved when Sarah said nothing. “John had in mind to do some ranching, so I lent a hand here and there. That’s how I came to meet Quiet Water.”
Casually Sarah pleated her skirt. “I suppose you knew Jake as a boy.”
“I’ll say I did.” Lucius let go a whistling laugh.
“Tough little cuss. Could look a hole right through you. Ain’t changed much. He was spending some time with his grandma’s people. Would’ve thought he was one of them then, ‘cept for the eyes. Course, he wasn’t. They knew it and he knew it. Like John said, it’s hard not being one or the other. I used to wonder what would’ve happened if Quiet Water and me had had kids.”
“What happened to her, Lucius?”
“I had gone off looking for gold.” His eyes narrowed as he stared off into the sun. “Seems a regiment rode through early one morning. Some settler claimed his stock was stolen, and that the Apaches had done it. So the soldiers came in, looking for trouble, hating Indians. Killed most everybody but those who made it up into the rocks.”
“Oh, Lucius. Lucius, I’m so sorry.” Unable to find words, she took both his hands in hers.
“When I come back, it was done. I was half-crazy, I guess. Rode around for days, not going anywhere. I guess I was hoping somebody’d come along and shoot me. Then I headed to the Redman place. They’d been burned out.”
“Oh, dear God.”
“Nothing left but charred wood and ashes.”
“How horrible.” She tightened her grip on his hands. “Oh, Lucius, it wasn’t the soldiers?”
“No. Leastwise they weren’t wearing uniforms.
Seemed like some men from town got liquored up and decided they didn’t want no breed that close by. John and his missus had had trouble before, like I said, but this went past hard words and threats. They started out to burn the barn, raise hell. One of them started shooting. Maybe they’d meant to all along, there’s no saying. When it was over, they’d burned them out and left the family for dead.”
Horror made her eyes dark and huge. “Jake. He would have been just a boy.”
“Thirteen, fourteen, I reckon. But he was past being a boy. I found him where he’d buried his folks. He was just sitting there, between the two fresh graves. Has his pa’s hunting knife in his hands. Still carries it.”
She knew the knife. She’d seen it stained with blood, for her. But now all she could think of was the boy. “Oh, the poor child. He must have been so frightened.”
“No, ma’am. I don’t believe frightened’s the word. He was chanting, like in a trance the Indians sometimes use. War chant, it was. He figured on going into town and finding the men who killed his folks.” “But you said he was only thirteen.”
“I said he was past being a boy. Best I could do was talk him out of it for a time, till he learned to handle a gun better. He learned mighty fast. I ain’t never seen a man do with a gun what Jake can do.” Though it was hot out, she rubbed the chill from her arms. “Did he…go back for them?”
“I don’t rightly know. I never asked. I thought it best we move on until he had some years on him, so we headed south. Didn’t know what to do for Mm. Bought him a horse, and we rode together awhile. I always figured he’d hook up with the wrong kind, but Jake was never much for hooking up with anybody. He’d’ve been about sixteen when we parted ways. Heard about him off and on. Then he rode into Lone Bluff a few months back.”
“To lose everything that way.” A tear ran down her cheek. “It’s a wonder he’s not filled with hate.”
“He’s got it in him, but it’s cold. Me, I use the bottle, wash it away now and then. Jake uses something in here.” He tapped his temple. “That boy holds more inside than anybody should have to. He ever lets it out, people better stand back.”
She understood what he meant. Hadn’t she seen it, that flat, dangerous look that came into his eyes? That expressionless stare that was more passionate than fury, more deadly than rage.
“You care for him.”
“He’s all I got that you might call family. Yeah, I got an affection for the boy.” Lucius squinted over at her. “I figure you do, too.”