Chapter Eighty
He was as tired as the rest of the war party, but his mood was low, while everyone else was jubilant.
They had captured the wagon train of supplies.
They had lost two warriors, with several more wounded, but the whites had lost five times that number.
The warriors were elated. Jack knew better.
If every time there was an engagement the Apache lost a man or two, in no time they would have too few warriors left to fight. It saddened him immensely.
And he was angry with himself and torn up inside.
Jack was rigid with self-loathing. Nahilzay was lucky to be alive—and had he been shot, it would have been Jack’s fault.
His fault for hesitating. There was no place in battle for a man whom his friends could not trust to come instantly to their aid.
No place at all. His hesitation had almost cost a great warrior his life.
He was realizing his priorities might be confused. It was a difficult understanding, one he fought. He still felt that his duty lay with the Apaches. But he knew he was worthless to them it he could not conduct himself bravely and ruthlessly in battle.
The black was tired, and walked in a subdued manner through the camp.
There was much rejoicing all around him, but Jack was in no mood for a celebration and had no intention of taking part.
He looked forward to seeking solace in Candice’s arms. He would be happy just to be with her.
He spotted her the minute his gohwah emerged into view amid the other lodgings.
She saw him too, and his heart leapt at the excitement that crossed her face. She dropped what she was doing and came rushing toward him, half running. He urged the black forward, then jumped off. “Foolish woman,” he cried, grabbing her. “Don’t run!”
“Jack!” She threw her arms around him. He smiled, holding her tenderly. Embracing her was awkward now that she was so large.
“How are you feeling?” he asked gently, after he had kissed her thoroughly.
“Fine. Jack—” The baby’s loud wail cut her off.
Jack started and stared toward the gohwah. Then he looked at Candice.
“You have a son,” she said, regarding him closely. “A beautiful boy.”
Jack sucked in his breath. The boy was quiet now. “Is—are they both all right?”
“Now they are,” Candice said enigmatically. “Why don’t you go see them, because afterward I intend to give you a piece of my mind.” She glared at him.
He ignored the threat and hurried forward and into the gohwah. He stopped short at the sight of Datiye nursing the baby. She met his gaze and smiled softly. Jack strode forward and stared down at his son. An overwhelming sense of love flooded him.
“His eyes are so pale,” he said, startled. And then he felt joy, for he knew the boy had to be his.
“Like his father,” Datiye said.
Jack studied him. His skin was swarthy, and the few wisps of hair were blue-black.
He felt a sudden grimness—the boy was too obviously a half-breed.
He remembered all the times he had been called such, and how he had hated it.
It would be a painful cross for his son to bear, one he wished he could spare him, but knew he couldn’t.
“He has a healthy appetite,” he remarked.
He touched the boy’s silky head. The baby seemed to look at him, while still sucking greedily. Jack smiled.
“We will call him Shoz,” he said. “Little Shoz.” He looked at Datiye. “He is beautiful. Thank you.”
Datiye hesitated. “He is a crybaby, husband.”
Jack’s jaw tightened. “How so?” He knew very well what happened to crybabies, and didn’t understand. If his son was a crier, why was he alive?
Datiye hesitated. “Candice would not let him be killed. She fought for him. I—I let them take him away. But she saved him. It is to her you should give thanks.”
Jack was stunned. He couldn’t believe it; in fact, he didn’t. “Are you sure?”
“She went to Cochise for protection. He gave it for as long as we remain in this safe place.”
The baby had finished nursing, and his little fist clenched against his mother’s breasts.
Jack touched it. The baby made a noise, and his hand tightened around Jack’s finger.
Jack took Shoz gently into his arms. He smiled at him.
“Little Shoz,” he said, gazing at him. He had had no idea he would feel so fatherly toward a child, any child, except maybe Candice’s. “You must learn not to cry, Shoshi.”
Datiye stood. “Do you want me to take him now?”
Jack nodded reluctantly. Datiye turned her back, and Jack placed Shoz in the cradleboard she was wearing. Shoz smiled and fell asleep.
Outside, Jack found Candice waiting impatiently. Before he could say anything, she tore into him. “Why didn’t you tell me how cruel the Apaches are? Jack! They tried to kill your son! Because he cried! No one is going to kill my child, Jack, I warn you!”
He pulled her close. “Thank you, sweetheart, for what you did. And no one will kill our child, I swear. I’m not leaving your side from now until you have the baby, I promise.”
“And I’m not going to be tied to a tree either!”
“It’s not as bad as it looks …” he began.
“No!” There was panic in her tone.
“All right,” he soothed. “You won’t be tied, I swear.”
She relaxed somewhat. “Jack, would you have let them take him away if you were here?”
He grimaced. “I—I don’t think so,” he said.
“Datiye let the old witch take him.”
“Why did you protect Shoshi, Candice?”
“Is that his name? Shoshi?”
“Shoz. His name is Shoz. Shoshi is an endearing form of Shoz.”
She smiled. “Shoshi. That’s a good name for a child, but what happens after he’s older?”
“His name will be Shoz,” Jack said firmly.
“You’re naming him after Shozkay,” Candice said.
“Yes. Candie, you didn’t answer. Why?”
“I’m a human being, Jack, it’s that simple.
” She frowned. She didn’t tell him she somehow had come to love Shoshi, that she wished she could hold him.
But she didn’t dare ask Datiye. After not speaking to her for five months, how did one start?
Candice didn’t want to be friends with her anyway.
She still hated her—well, disliked her. The woman was her rival.
The woman had borne Jack a son. That would never change—although Candice had realized very recently that all this was Jack’s fault, not Datiye’s.
Datiye was a woman, and what woman could resist Jack’s seduction?
If Jack hadn’t been such a horny bastard, she wouldn’t have to share him with Datiye right now.
But, no matter what, Shoshi was innocent.
And now Datiye owed her. Candice knew that when the time came, Datiye wouldn’t be able to refuse aiding her in her escape. The thought should have been uplifting. It wasn’t. It was disheartening.