Chapter Twenty-Six
He was here.
And, strangely, knowing that he was here reassured her and dimmed the hysteria that had been growing.
She could barely believe it. The coincidence was too great—that he would appear here after she was taken prisoner.
Or, maybe—and she shuddered with the thought—he had been a part of the war party but had not returned with the band, had scouted ahead or lingered behind.
She remembered with utter clarity how he had killed the three cowboys who had staked out the Apache boy.
How he had said that vengeance was the Apache way. She hugged herself.
It would do not to forget who and what he was.
But … before, when he had found her on the desert, he hadn’t hurt her.
And she was even ashamed now for what her thoughts had been.
Not that she exactly trusted him—but neither did she mistrust him.
After being treated so brutally and carelessly by Hayilkah, as if she were some piece of meat, the contrast with how Jack had treated her was stunning.
He hadn’t hurt her, hadn’t made her ride for days and days without food and water, hadn’t shoved her around, hadn’t even touched her—not like Hayilkah.
She couldn’t suppress a shiver of fear. He had said he would help her. She prayed it would be soon. She was afraid of Hayilkah, afraid he would come to her again, tonight, and this time rape her. Panic started an insidious creeping.
She became aware of the fact that several Apaches had gathered not far from the gohwah—she could hear them talking excitedly, although she couldn’t understand a word they said.
But she was feeling a little braver because Jack was in the camp, so she crept quickly to the entrance of the gohwah and raised the hide flap.
There was quite a commotion going on twenty feet away.
The tall, handsome Apache who had explained her circumstances to her last night, in English, was there, holding Jack’s black stallion, which was bridled but bareback.
The stallion was prancing in agitation, corded muscles rippling and gleaming, and he champed at his bit, frothing.
He lashed out with a lethal hind leg, and someone cried out and jumped away.
The Apache and the stallion were surrounded, but cautiously, by perhaps twenty other.
Apaches, both male and female. One of them was Hayilkah.
In fact, the tall Apache was speaking to an older couple standing next to her captor, and he was grinning and listening avidly to every word.
The old, fat woman resembled Hayilkah. His mother?
Hayilkah laughed. The tall Apache led the black through the group, which parted immediately before his path.
He took the black to a tree, where he tied him.
The stallion didn’t look like he was going to stay put for very long.
The group of Apaches was dispersing. Candice thought she understood what was happening. Jack was trading the black for her. She had no idea why he had sent the tall Apache as his emissary.
But he was trading his horse for her.
Her heart filled with desperate hope.