Chapter Twenty-Eight
Standing naked in the sunlight, Candice watched him heading toward the camp.
She was very much aware of her nudity and the tightness in her chest. Then, instantly, she dropped into the water and began to scrub herself furiously, darting quick glances around for any unwelcome Apache intruders.
How could he have left her there alone? What if a brave appeared while she was naked and defenseless?
And why did she keep thinking about the way he had looked at her?
She was no longer so naive as to not recognize a look of lust and desire—the expression had been written all over his face when he had kissed her in the barn.
Just as it had been now. Candice was agitated.
She dressed quickly in the items he had left.
The dress and moccasins were butter-soft, and felt wickedly delightful against her naked skin.
She didn’t hear Jack returning. She just suddenly knew he was there, and she looked up, getting another glimpse of hot gray eyes.
It occurred to-her that he knew she was wearing nothing beneath the dress, and she blushed, but she couldn’t look away.
“Come here,” he said softly.
Candice stared, unable to swallow, unable even to breathe.
After a beat he came to her, and for one wild moment she thought he was going to kiss her as he stared at her parted lips.
Instead, he picked up one of her hands, and then before she could adjust to the quick disappointment, he was gently applying salve to the rope burns and abrasions.
She felt heat rising to her face for her wayward thoughts.
His touch was extraordinarily gentle, the way it had been when he had bathed the dead Apache boy. His hands were large and warm and calloused—dwarfing hers. She was eye level with his naked chest and the heavy necklace he wore. He dropped her hands, and she looked up into his eyes. “Thank you.”
He didn’t say anything. She followed him, not back to the camp, but into the woods, trailing behind, trying to look anywhere but at his bare back, and wishing she could turn off all her thoughts. He started gathering saplings and brush.
Candice stood watching, until he handed her what he’d collected, filling her arms. He gathered another load for himself, and they started back to the camp.
After they deposited their loads on the outskirts of camp, they went back for more.
It suddenly struck Candice what they were doing, and it shook her to the core.
There seemed to be no other conclusion than that they were collecting material for a gohwah, and if that was the case, did it mean they were going to stay there?
He had said they were leaving. Had she misunderstood?
“Jack, are we building a gohwah?”
“Yes.”
“Does that mean we’re going to be staying here?”
He didn’t look at her. “Just until you’re healed up,” he said.
She was afraid to ask what would happen afterward. “Then will you take me home?” Her voice trembled.
This time he did look at her. “Yes.”
They spent the morning outside the camp gathering saplings, brush, and bear grass. Around midday Jack told her to stay put by their pile of wood and grass on the edge of the camp, and he disappeared. Candice sat down on the ground and idly picked up stones and tossed them away.
Jack appeared, smiling, two bowls in his hands. “Here,” he said, squatting beside her Apache fashion.
She wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. I hate that stuff!”
He looked at her in amazement. “Really?” He raised the rim of the bowl to his mouth and began to eat the thick gruel.
She watched. He is just like them, she thought, staring, as he hungrily devoured the bland souplike food.
It was as if he had eaten like this a hundred times, had never needed utensils.
He was squatting, thighs bulging in the buckskin pants.
He had shed his shirt, and his chest was bronzed almost to the color of oak bark, gleaming with perspiration.
The muscles in his forearms rippled with each shifting movement, and his biceps seemed to be in a permanent state of straining, popping thickly beneath his skin.
He finished, setting the bowl down, looking at her.
“You need to eat,” he said, his tone pleasant. “You need your strength.”
“What is it?”
“It’s made from acorns,” he told her, smiling slightly at the face she made.
She picked up the bowl—she was hungry—and awkwardly drank, or tried to.
“Good girl,” Jack said.
“If you pat me on the head I’ll bite you,” Candice flirted daringly.
He laughed. “I like it better when you wag your tail, ish’tia’nay.” He stood. “Watch carefully.”
“What does that mean, ish’tia’nay?”
He grinned. “Woman.”
“Oh.”
He used a tool, like a spear, made of mesquite with a pointed, narrow end, to dig six deep, narrow holes in a circle.
Then he took a green sapling and inserted one end in one hole.
He put another sapling in another hole. He bent them toward each other in an arch, and tied them together with strips of yucca.
“By the way, this is women’s work. Braves never build gohwahs. So watch carefully, because you’re going to finish this by yourself.”
“By myself?”
“I’m losing face,” he told her cheerfully. “Hand me that sohi.”
“That’s silly. Hand you what?”
“That sapling.”
She did, watching him insert it into another hole.
“Candice, put a sapling in that hole.”
“Which hole?”
“That one.” He pointed.
“Why are we doing this?” she asked, doing as she was told. “Why don’t we just sleep under the stars?”
“Candie, ti-tonjuda! Wrong end! The other end—the thicker end—goes in first!”
“How am I supposed to know?” She reversed the sapling. “Why are we doing this? It seems like a lot of trouble for a few days.”
He tied the saplings together, and now the gohwah was almost completely framed. “This is the worst I’ve ever seen,” he said disgustedly. Then he answered her question, “Because, ish’tia’nay, it is not appropriate for us to sleep outside tonight.”
Candice sighed. “Another Apache custom, I suppose?”
He glanced at her sharply, then away, staring at the frame. “Yes, you might say that.” Jack added another arch of saplings and surveyed the frame. “Okay. It will have to do. Now, pay attention. Brush next, then bear grass.”
“I think I can figure it out.”
“Enju.” Jack was smiling and it made the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Have this finished by the time I get back.” He turned and started walking away.
“You really want me to do this by myself?”
He stopped and pointed at her. “You build gohwah, woman, or I’ll have to send you back to Hayilkah.” With that exaggerated threat, he left her standing there.