Chapter Eighty-Two
Jack watched Candice grinding the seeds into flour from wild berries, which would then be made into bread.
He didn’t smile. The sight of her like that, their daughter in the cradleboard on her back, asleep, should have made him smile—at the very least with the warmth he felt for them, or even because she looked so adept, as if she had become a squaw.
But Candice would never look like a squaw.
Her hair was plaited in a thick, fat braid, which she had draped over one shoulder carelessly.
Wisps of golden-yellow hair curled around her golden face.
He felt a pang of desire, but refused to entertain it.
It was still too soon. And something was wrong.
He could sense it. He wondered if there was such a thing as a woman becoming melancholy after having a child.
He left, striding rapidly through the camp, his mind made up. The resolve had formed on that last disastrous war party up the Araviapa Valley. So close to Fort Breckenridge … what if Morris was no longer there?
Cochise greeted him with a smile. “What brings my brother and causes him to leave such a joy-filled family?”
Jack frowned.
“How are your wives, your children?” Cochise asked with some concern.
“Fine. I’m riding out,” he said smoothly, although abruptly. “Up to Fort Breckenridge. I intend to kill Lieutenant Morris and give my brother’s spirit the peace he needs to leave this world.”
If Cochise was startled, he hid it. “That is a very dangerous mission for one man. How will you get into the fort?”
“I considered using treachery, being white-skinned, but I decided against it. At night I will scale the wall. I will slip into Morris’s quarters and slit his throat as he sleeps. I will leave the same way I came in.” He shrugged. His face was grim.
“What you do is a good thing, for all our people. I think, if anyone could do it, you can.”
“If I do not return, I wish you to see that Candice and Christina return to the High C under escort.”
“It will be done, if you do not return.”
“Also, I do not want anyone to know of my mission. I do not want Candice to find out and worry. I’ll tell her I’m scouting, nothing more.”
Cochise nodded, then embraced him. “Tonight, and until you return, the gans will dance and offer many prayers. The people will think it is for another war party, but I shall know it is for you.”
“Thank you,” Jack said.
He strode back to his gohwah with only his mission on his mind.
He hadn’t told Cochise the rest of it. That if he returned, he was intending to leave the Apaches and never return.
Shozkay would be avenged. It was the best he could do.
His staying and fighting in the Apache cause was no longer something he could do, nor was it fair to the warriors he rode with.
And it wasn’t fair to Candice, or Christina.
He refused to think about leaving Shoshi behind with Datiye. It would just have to be done.
He was clad in his buckskin pants and shirt, and he wore no warpaint.
He saddled up the black, taking only his rifle, his Colt and knife, and his bow and arrows.
The latter wasn’t for the purpose of his mission, but because it was a convenient way to kill game without being heard if the need arose.
He finished and went around the gohwah, to where Datiye was pounding a rawhide she was tanning, Shoshi on her back.
He said a brief good-bye to her, not bothering to tell her anything except that he would be back in a few days. He patted Shoshi on the head, his hand lingering. The baby woke up to look at him out of silvery eyes, then started crying. Datiye began to nurse him.
“Where are you going?” Candice asked, her voice very still.
He straightened, taking one last look at his son, and moved to her. “Scouting. I’ll be back in a few days, three probably, maybe four.”
She stared, her eyes huge and stricken, and he thought she was afraid for him. “Come here, shijii,” he said, pulling her into his arms. She rested there a moment, then clung to him with a touch of panic.
“Jack,” she whispered, pulling his head down so she could kiss him. They kissed for a long time.
“It’s only for a few days,” he teased. “When I get back you should be ready for some proper lovemaking.”
“How can you think about that now?” she muttered, her heart beating wildly. This was her chance, and she knew it. He was riding out, and she could be gone before he ever came back to camp. She felt panicky, sick, guilty, and terrified. She couldn’t let go of him.
“Let me say good-bye to Christina,” he said gently, tearing her hands away. With something that sounded suspiciously like a choked-off sob, Candice turned her back so Jack could smile at his daughter, stroking her tiny face with one forefinger. She didn’t even wake up.
“I’ll see you soon, Candie,” he said, wondering why she looked so stricken. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
“Good-bye, Jack,” she whispered, fighting tears. She watched him swing gracefully into the saddle, flash her a warm, devastating smile, and lope away. Oh, God!
This was it. She had to think of Christina.
Because if it was just her, she would stay.
She would never be able to leave Jack, as long as he kept good his promise to marry off Datiye.
Now he wouldn’t even have to do that. She felt a terrible jealousy at the thought of leaving the two of them together.
She strode to Datiye with grim resolution.
“Datiye, I need your help.” It was the first time she had spoken to her since she had had her child.
Datiye stared, startled.
“You owe me,” Candice said. “I’m running away.
I want to leave at dawn. I need a pony, a rifle, supplies.
And I need a guide out of the stronghold.
From the entrance I can find my way home.
” Home. The High C. She was too sick at heart to dwell on what her family’s reactions to her arrival with Christina would be, but at least she knew she could count on Luke to help her go East.
“I do not understand,” Datiye said, standing. “You love him. He loves you. Why do you leave?”
“Because of my daughter. Christina is not an Indian, and I won’t have her turned into a squaw.”
“He will come after you.”
“By the time he does, I will be safe at the ranch. He won’t be able to talk his way in. And, Datiye, Cochise must not know. No one must know. I want you to cover for me while I’m gone. If someone asks for me, which is unlikely, say I am bathing or something.”
Datiye nodded, smiling. “No one will notice your absence.”
“Don’t look so pleased,” Candice snapped.
“Why should I not be pleased? Our husband is Apache, more than white. He needs a woman who understands him. And I have given him a boy—a son. In time he will forget you. I will comfort him so that he does.”
“He will never love you,” Candice cried. She had an untimely vision of Datiye naked in Jack’s arms, and it made her sick. “Never. He loves me. He may take your body, but he will never give you his heart.” They stood and glared at each other.
“I would like to leave before dawn, so no one sees. I want to be outside the stronghold as the sun rises.”
“I will arrange everything.”
Candice watched Datiye walk away. She went and found a piece of charcoal and began to compose a note, one that she hoped would be cruel enough to deter him from coming after her.
She would no longer think about the man she was leaving.