Lawless Page 0,50

now."

"Will they come after us?"

"No."

"How can you be sure?" As the tears passed, the fear doubled back.

"It wouldn't be honorable."

"Honorable?" She lifted her head to look at him. In the moonlight his face looked hard as rock. "But they're Indians."

"That's right. They'll stand by their honor a lot longer than any white man."

"But-" She had forgotten for a moment the Apache in him. "You seemed to know them."

"I lived with them five years. Little Bear, the one with the eagle feather, is my cousin." He stopped and dismounted. "You're cold. I'll build a fire and you can rest a while." He pulled a blanket out of his saddlebag and tossed it over her shoulders. Too tired to argue, Sarah wrapped it tight around herself and sat on the ground.

He had a fire burning quickly and started making coffee. Without hesitation, Sarah bit into the jerky he gave her and warmed her hands over the flames.

"The one you...fought with. Did you know him?"

"Yeah."

He'd killed for her, she thought, and had to struggle not to weep again. Perhaps it had been a member of his own family, an old friend. "I'm sorry," she managed.

"For what?" He poured coffee into a cup, then pushed it into her trembling hands.

"For all of it They were just there, all at once. There was nothing I could do." She drank, needing the warmth badly. "When I was in school, we would read the papers, hear stories. I never really believed it. I was certain that the army had everything under control." "You read about massacres," he said with a dull fury in his voice that had her looking up again. "About settlers slaughtered and wagon trains attacked. You read about savages scalping children. It's true enough. But did you read any about soldiers riding into camps and butchering, raping women, putting bullets in babies long after treaties were signed and promises made? Did you hear stories about poisoned food and contaminated blankets sent to the reservations?" "But that can't be."

"The white man wants the land, and the land isn't his-or wasn't." He took out his knife and cleaned it in the dirt. "He'll take it, one way or the other." She didn't want to believe it, but she could see the truth in his eyes. "I never knew."

"It won't go on much longer. Little Bear and men like him are nearly done."

"How did you choose? Between one life and the other?"

He moved his shoulders. "There wasn't much choice. There's not enough Apache in me to have been accepted as a warrior. And I was raised white, mostly. Red man. That's what they called my father when he was coming up outside an army post down around Tucson. He kept it. Maybe it was pride, maybe it wasn't."

He stopped, annoyed with himself. He'd never told anyone so much.

"You up to riding?"

She wanted him to go on, to tell her everything there was to tell about himself. Instinct held her back. If she pushed, she might never learn. "I can try." Smiling, she reached out to touch his arm. "I want to-Oh, you're bleeding."

He glanced down. "Here and there."

"Let me see. I should have tended these already." She was up on her knees, pulling away the rent material of his sleeve.

"Nothing a man likes better than to have his clothes ripped off by a pretty woman."

"I'll thank you to behave yourself," she told him, but she couldn't muffle a chuckle.

It was good to hear her laugh, even if only a little. Most of the horror had faded from her eyes. But he wanted it gone, all of it. "Heard you made Lucius strip down to the skin. He claimed you threatened him." This time her laughter was warmer. "The man needed to be threatened. I wish you'd seen his face when I told him to take off his pants."

"I don't suppose you'd like me to do the same." "Just the shirt should do. This arm certainly needs to be bandaged." She rose and, modesty prevailing, turned her back before she lifted the hem of her skirt to rip her petticoat.

"I'm obliged." He eased painfully out of his shirt. "I've been wondering, Duchess, just how many of those petticoats do you wear?"

"That's certainly not a subject for discussion. But it's fortunate that I..." She turned back to him, and the words slipped quietly down her throat. She'd never seen a man's chest before, had certainly never thought a man could be so beautiful. But he was firm and lean,