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Chapter Five.
Jamie Slater didn't seem to do anything by half measures. When he set out to move, he moved.
They pushed hard throughout the morning, either Jamie or Jon riding ahead to scout out the road, the other riding with Dolly and Tess. Jamie was true to his word--some- where around midmorning he called a halt, and Jon came up to take over the reins of the wagon. Dolly and Jon were comfortable together, old friends who knew one another well and respected what they knew. And both of them seemed genuinely fond of Tess, which was nice.
Dolly was full of stories. She didn't chatter, but she kept Tess amused with tales of Texas in times before Tess had been born.
"Why, Will and I came out here long before Texas was a state. Before there was a Republic of Texas!
And long, long before the Alamo. Why, I remember some of those boys, and it was a privilege to know them.
Mountain men, they were good men. They were the stuff that Texans were made of. Will missed being at the Alamo by just a hairbreadth. He'd been sent out to deal with Cheyenne. By the time he came back, the boys were dead.
They say that Davey Crockett was killed there, but that ain't true.
The Mexicans took him prisoner, and they tortured him to death, that was what the boys said. He was a fiery old cuss.
They never broke him. You can't break a mountain man. You can kill him, but you can't break him. Kind of like a Blackfoot, eh?"
"A Blackfoot--or an Englishwoman, eh, Dolly?" Jon agreed, grinning.
Dolly chuckled gleefully and agreed.
Tess found herself studying Jon's handsome features. There was no denying that the man had Indian blood, proud blood. His cheekbones were wide and broad, his flesh was dark bronze.
And his hair, too, was Indian, black as ink and straight as an arrow.
But his eyes were a deep, startling green.
He caught her studying him, and she blushed.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."
"It's all right. You're welcome to wonder about me. I'll tell you, because I like you. My father was a Blackfoot chief.
My mother was the daughter of an English baronet."
" A baronet?"
"Urn. Sir Roger Bennington. Actually, he's a very decent old fellow."
He smiled.
"What does that make you?"
Jori laughed softly.
"A half-breed Blackfoot. Sir Roger did not marry his daughter to an Indian.
She was kidnapped, but she discovered that she was in love with my father.
She stayed with the Blackfoot until my father was killed. Then she went back to England. She died there."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. They were both happy while they lived." Tess hesitated.
"Did you go to England with her? Is that where you acquired your accent?"
"My accent?" he repeated.
"Well, you don't sound like a Texan or an Indian."
"I'm not a Texan, ~xeept by choice for the moment. I was born in the Black Hills. And my father was still alive when I went to England. My mother convinced him that a half breed needed every advantage. My mother knew that the Indian's day was dying. That the buffalo were being 93 slaughtered.
That the white men were going to push west, and push us west, until we were pushed fight into the sea or given deser/land as our reservations.
Our prisons."
He spoke hard words, but he spoke them softly.
"You don't seem very bitter," Tess commented.
"Bitter? I'm not. Bitterness is a wasted emotion. I ride with Jamie now because I choose to be with him. Some time this year, I'll go back to my father's people. And if the whim takes me, I'll go visit my grandfather in London. I enjoy the theater and opera there, and Grandfather is a hardy old cuss. I think he's actually d.a.m.ned pleased when people stare at his Indian grandson. Actually, I wear formal clothing rather well."
He grinned ruefully, but then his grin faded as he studied her.
"I love the west, too. I love horses, and the feel of a good one racing beneath me. I love my tribe, and I love this harsh, dry land. And I've stayed with Jamie because he knows people. He's spent most of his life fighting, but he still knows people. He goes to war with men, but he never attacks children."
He gazed at her curiously, looking her up and' down, studying her.
"Jamie believes you. He's come into Indian villages and seen what certain white men are capable of leaving behind. There are many men in the cavalry who think that an infant Indian is still an Indian, and that it will grow to put an arrow in someone's back. There was a lieutenant who liked to order his soldiers to shoot the women, then bash the infants' heads together to save bullets."
"G.o.d, how awful."
"Jamie knows about things like that. G.o.d knows, he saw enough of it during the war."
"There was nothing like that during the war" -- "Jamie came from the Kansas and Missouri border.
There was all kinds of stuff like that."
"Yes, but the war's over now," Dolly interrupted mat- ter-of-factly.
"We need to put it behind us. Bless us and save us! It's been five years!
And Mr. Grant is president now" -- "Mr. Grant could use some help out here in the west," Jon said dryly.
He smiled again at Tess.
"Ever been to London?"
She shook her head.
"I've n~ver be~n out of Texas."
"Now that is a great loss. A girl like you ought to s~ the world." Jamie was heading toward them.
"Miss. Stuart, you ar~ welcome to travel with me at any time, in fact, I'd consider it quite an honor."
Jamie was scowling. Tess lowered her lashes, knowing that Jon had said the words strictly for Jamie's benefit.
Jamie's great roan stallion was prancing around.
"We seem to be clear for quite a while ahead. Jon, want to ride again?
I'll take over the reins for a while."
"Sure thing." Jon pulled in on the reins. He started to hop down while Jamie dismounted from his horse. Tess looked at Jamie.
"I do appreciate your concern, but I've scarcely taken the reins myself"
-- "Miss. Stuart, I'll drive the wagon for a while now. After all, we wouldn't want to ruin the hands of a newspaper woman."
Dolly slapped her on the knee.
"You let him drivel" she said, then she yawned.
"I think I'll ride in back for a while."
She smiled at Tess like a self-satisfied cat and crawled into the back of the wagon. Tess watched her stretch out on Uncle Joe's bunk. Jamie climbed up beside her and took the reins. Jon had untied his pinto from the back of the wagon.
"I'll ride on ahead," he said.
Jamie nodded. Tess was left alone beside Jamie, very aware of the heat of his thigh despite the heat of the day.
They rode in silence, and the silence se~med to stretch on and on.
Finally Jamie drawled out, "You made it on time this morning. Did you manage to have a good night's sleep?"
"Yes, I did," she lied pleasantly. She turned to him with her eyes innocently wide.
"What about you, Lieutenant?
Did you manage to have any sleep at all?" He studied her eyes, then smiled slowly.
"Yes, I slept."
He didn't elaborate and Tess was infuriated. She wanted some kind of an answer on this subject, and he was determined not to give her one.
"You seem to have been having a darned nice morning," he commented.
"Have I?"
"I've known Jon Red Feather a long time now. I've never known him to talk so much."
"He's charming."
Jamie grunted. He flashed her a quick gaze and gave his attention to the road once again.
"And I'm not?"
"No. You're impudent, insolent and a royal pain, Lieutenant Slater."
"Oh, is that so? Then why were you so anxious for my company?"
She inhaled sharply, staring at him.
"Because you can shoot," she said flatly.
"Why, thank you, Miss. Stuart! Thank you kindly. And you threw yourself right into my arms the other morning, half naked and all, just because I shoot."
"Right. Wrong! I was not half naked" -- "You felt as if you were."
"Lieutenant, you are a scurvy, low-down, no-good rodent-"
"But a no-good rodent who can shoot, right?"
"Precisely, Lieutenant," she said with a touch of silk. He nodded, looking ahead.
"You are awfully determined to stay in Wilts.h.i.+re, Miss. Stuart.
Couldn't you run a newspaper somewhere else?"
"I could. But I wouldn't own the good cattle land that Joe" -- She paused.
"Well, it's all mine now."
"Is your life worth the land?"
"You don't understand. It's not just the land. Somebody needs to stand against this man."
"You do want it desperately."
He was watching her curiously, the hint of a curve to his lips. She frowned, wondering what he was up to.
"Yes. I do want it desperately. He killed Joe. He might not have ridden with the men, but he killed Joe. And I'm going to bring him down."