Chapter Twenty-Five
Jack had traveled for two nights and two and half days, making slightly better time than the party he was following.
It had soon become apparent that they were crossing the Catalinas, and he was certain he knew the campsite Shozkay was heading for.
Still, he didn’t dare get ahead of himself and make directly for it, in case he had guessed incorrectly.
Like all Apaches, Shozkay’s band moved from site to site.
Unlike all other Apaches, however, his tribe farmed for about a quarter of their sustenance needs.
Now, in mid-October, they would be in the higher elevations harvesting corn, beans, and pumpkin, and baking and packing mescal cakes, smoking and drying beef, in preparation for the long winter ahead. They would not leave the mountains until they had harvested their crops—except to raid or war.
When he rode into the camp it was shortly after sunrise, the air still chill from the mountain night.
There was some activity, but not the usual amount.
The women were up and about doing their early-morning chores, and he could smell the acorn soup he was so fond of, but the rest of the camp was in a strange silence, which Jack immediately understood.
Last night they had arrived and had had a victory celebration. He went to Shozkay’s gohwah.
Now that he was so close he was afraid of what he would find. His entire body was tense with anticipation and dread, his heart pounding painfully. He found Luz hovering over a fire. Her eyes lit up when she saw him. “Shilah!”
Jack couldn’t return her smile or her greeting, and she instantly sobered. “Where is your husband?” he asked.
She pointed toward the creek.
Jack found Shozkay splashing water over his face and down his bare chest. His brother saw him, eyes widening with amazement, and then they embraced, clapping each other hard.
“Shik’isn, I did not expect to see you again so soon.”
“The woman,” Jack said abruptly, his eyes burning into Shozkay’s. “The white woman with yellow hair. Is she alive?”
Shozkay stared in surprise. “Yes, she is.”
“And in one piece?” He held his breath.
“I believe so.”
Shozkay regarded him questioningly.
“Who has her?” Jack said, his mouth clamping into a hard line to prevent the relief he felt from flooding his features. But he couldn’t prevent it from reaching his eyes, and Shozkay saw it.
“Hayilkah.”
Jack frowned grimly. There was only one way to free her. “Offer for her.”
Shozkay stared in surprise.
“I mean it,” Jack said grimly. “Offer the black to Chise and Gahgeh.” They were Hayilkah’s wife’s parents.
“You wish to marry this white woman?” Shozkay was incredulous.
“Yes,” Jack said. It was not the truth. The truth was that Hayilkah had captured her, making her his.
She was rare. He would not give her as a gift.
He would expect many gifts in return for her hand.
Or maybe he would want to keep her for himself, as a second wife. It was a thought Jack could not stand.
“The black is a fine stallion,” Shozkay said, still staring at his brother closely. “I doubt that Hayilkah will refuse such a gift.”
Acceptance of an offering meant Jack could take Candice, and in Apache law, once they had slept together in their own gohwah, they would be man and wife. He would not think about those implications, not now.
“How do you know this woman, brother?”
“It is a long story.”
“I have all day.” Shozkay grinned.
Jack wasn’t smiling. “I wish to see her.”
“You will have to ask Hayilkah. He is asleep somewhere. Too much tulapai last night, he added. They walked back to the camp, and Shozkay put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I wish I had known,” he said softly.
Jack’s body was rigid. They found Hayilkah passed out beside a few other warriors. Jack bent and spoke his name, shaking him. After a couple of minutes, Hayilkah opened one eye, saying “Go away, woman.”
“It is my brother,” Shozkay said, squatting by him. “He wishes to see your slave.”
Hayilkah opened the other eye and tried to focus. “Yes, go,” he mumbled, then fell asleep instantly.
Jack went to Hayilkah’s’s gohwah, where Shozkay left him.
Taking a deep breath, he opened the flap.
He saw her sprawled on the bed of hides, on her stomach, naked beneath the top covering.
It was an old Apache trick to keep captives naked so they wouldn’t run away, but a terrible feeling swept him, and he was inside, kneeling beside her, his hand in her tangled, knotted hair.
“Candice! Candice? Shijii, it’s me. Wake up. ”
He stroked her back, and she moved. He put his arm beneath her, pulling her almost into his lap, cradling her. She moaned, then her eyes shot open, and she cried, “No!” her fingers turning into claws, going for his eyes. Jack grabbed her wrists.
She yelped in pain and he released them, horrified when he saw that her wrists were scabbed and bloody and oozing pus. “It’s all right now,” he whispered, his hold tightening.
“Jack.” She gasped, clinging to him.
He held her tighter, turning his face into her hair. He stroked her hair and rocked her as if she were a child. She clung to him harder. “Jack, take me away from here, please.”
“I will get you out of here,” he promised, his hands sliding up and down her back. He was too aware of the woman in his arms. He did not tell her just how he was planning to free her.
“I was hoping … praying,” she said into his shirt.
“What?”
“Praying you would come.” She looked up, her eyes glistening with tears.
Of course I would come. “Are you all right?” Did they hurt you?
She shook her head, her nose red. A tear fell. “I’m so afraid.”
“I know.”
She stared into his eyes and suddenly became aware of their position—that she was in his arms, naked except for the blanket, that his hard chest was pressing against her soft bosom and it was all wrong. But it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel wrong at all.
He read her thoughts and rose, putting some distance between them.
“No, don’t go,” Candice begged, holding on to one buckskin-clad knee.
Jack’s jaw tightened. “I have to go.”
“Please,” she protested, anguished.
He took a breath, a loud sound in the small space of the gohwah. She belonged to Hayilkah, so he had no choice but to leave—as hard as it was.
“Don’t go,” Candice said, as he walked, stooped, to the entrance of the gohwah. “Jack! Don’t leave me here! Please!”
Jack tensed and ducked out. He heard her soft, muffled sobs behind him—and they echoed in his mind all day.