Slater Bros: Apache Summer Part 24

Because, like Eliza, she was falling in love with him.

"Come on," he told her.

"Where?" she protested.

"Down by the water."

The road ran along the river. He held her hand and led her through the trees until they came to a little copse. They were alone with the sounds of the rippling waters, with the occasional call of a bird, the soft rustle of a tree. He drew her close, and when she stiffened, he drew her even closer.

"What is this?" he demanded.

She moistened her lips, staring at his eyes, then at his mouth.

"What is--what?" she asked.

"Miss. Stuart, I gave you a chance last night. h.e.l.l, I gave you several chances last night. You wanted to stay."

"You wanted to make love."

"I ... yes," she whispered.

"And now you're running. Why?"

"I'm' not!" she protested.

"It's just that" -- "I can't do it, Tess. I can't live with it if you think you can blow hot and cold in a matter of hours."

"Then what?"

"I'm just trying to give you ... s.p.a.ce!"

She lowered her head. She desperately wanted to put her~ shoulder against his s.h.i.+rt. She breathed in, smelling clean male scent of him, and she felt a furious pulse flight at her throat, in her heart, in her veins. He slid fingers into her hair at the sides of her head and lifted face. He stared, and she tried to return his gaze tering. But then his hand came to her breast. She muted something softly, then she did lean against him.

sky seemed dazzling, but not so dazzling as the man. "Tess, Tess!" he whispered to her, holding her close.

frightening, it's d.a.m.ned terrifying. You're coming so much to me."

His arms were around her. She parted her lips and moistened them with her tongue again. His parted and moved upon hers, and they melded and tasted until finally he drew his lips away. Then they sank down together upon a bed of leaves, with the river just beyond them. Their arms locked together and they kept kissing, tasting one another, and it ~ ~eemed that the sound of the rus.h.i.+ng water grew louder and louder.

Tess found that she was pressed into the leaves. His hands were upon her.

She set her palms against his cheek, and desire took flight within her as she felt the planes and textures , of his face. She thought confusedly that she loved the way he looked with his smoke-dark eyes and sandy, disheveled hair, with the rough touch and the rugged angles and lines of his face, the twist of his jaw. She wrapped her arms around him, sliding her fingers through the hair at his nape, drawing him to her for another kiss. The earth beneath her began to heat. She ran her fingers over the opening of his ~ahirt. She felt the ripple of muscle with her fingertips. She teased at his b.u.t.tons until his s.h.i.+rt opened, until she could reach her hands inside and slide her nails over his naked ~t~h and feel the trembling that she evoked.

him groan and she felt his touch upon the tiny of her dress, then she felt herself being freed from Her slip and her chemise remained, but they were the feel of his searing kiss upon her body and Soon her slip was wound beneath her, and she felt earth with her bare flesh. His hard and driving man teased her for a split second, then drove within her a startling, shattering thrust that swept her breath The sun was above him. She heard curious cries, then re- they came from her and that she was clinging to arching, writhing. meeting him, welcoming him, him. She felt the slap of his body against hers, and earthy and real. She felt the sun upon his naked flesh, and that, too, was real. And she felt more. the certain heat, the glow of the sun, which heightened every swift pleasure, a touch of the blue, cloudy sky. She was damp, and so aware of him within her, and aware of the rising ecstasy inside her body. Coiling tighter and tighter until she was crying out again, then gasping in a soft shriek as something came upon her so strong and sweet and volatile that it rent the whole of her with s.h.i.+vers, while something like hot nectar seemed to swamp her body. She couldn't move. She could scarcely breathe, and it seemed that the world went dark before the sun burst upon her again. And just as it did, he thrust hard within her and stayed and stared at her, the whole of his face tense and haunting and taut with pa.s.sion. Then he exploded within her, and thrust and thrust again. and lay down beside her, wrapping her in his arms.

The sun was still above them.

"I'm afraid of you," Tess admitted.

He had been flat on the earth. He rose up on an elbow. "What?"

"I'm afraid of caring too much."

He touched her cheek.

"We're all afraid of caring too much ."

"I don't believe you're afraid of anything." He smiled, a crooked, rueful smile.

"Yes, I am. I'n afraid of losing you right now."

"Right now," she repeated.

"But what ... what about tomorrow, Jamie?

That's what frightens me."

"What do you mean?"

She shook her head. She rolled away from him, rising to her feet, straightening her slip and dusting bits of leaf and dirt and gra.s.s from it.

She smiled at him, then hurried toward the water.

He must have stripped off the remnants of his for when he came up behind her, he was stark naked.

placed his hands around her waist and kissed her nape.

177 he whispered in her ear, so softly that she wasn't sure she heard him.

"Tomorrow? I'm not sure. But I think that I'm falling in love with you, Tess."

He left her, walking into the river, then ducking beneath the surface and swimming into the center of it. He rose, let out a cry and s.h.i.+vered.

"It's d.a.m.ned cold for summer!" he called out to her.

Tess stooped and threw water over her face. She watched as Jamie dove beneath the surface again.

A twig snapped suddenly behind her. She leaped up, spinning around.

There were four of them. The so-called Indians. They were clothed in bronze paint and breech clouts "Jamie!"

she whispered.

But of course there was nothing he could do. The men were armed with bows and arrows, rifles, even a few tomahawks.

They were going to kill her, she thought, and Jamie would never have time to reach the surface. And it would be her fault, because if she had talked to him this morning, he would never have brought her here, and he would never have become so involved with her that he forgot danger.

"Jamie!" she screamed as one of the men lunged toward her. She fought.

She kicked, she scratched, she screamed and struggled, but a second man came up, grasping her legs, and between them, she was tossed over a shoulder. She still fought, clawing, screaming, pounding.

Bronze coloring came off in her hands. "Tess!" Jamie was charging, naked and unarmed, out of the water. She saw his eyes. They met across the distance and locked with hers; the pain and the horror of the moment was mirrored between them.

"Tess!" He screamed her name again in a loud, long cry and he was speeding furiously toward the emthe man carrying Tess began to run with her. She craned neck, straining to see Jamie. She saw him reaching the shallows, and she saw him running, running to the sh.o.r.e. He rammed one of the armed attackers with such violence and force that the man fell.

He spun and kicked his next opponent, then thrust his fists against him in a fury.

But then Tess saw that another man was behind Jamie as he fought. She saw the second man raise a battle club and bring it down upon Jamie's head with all his strength. She heard the cracking sound. And she screamed as she saw Jamie crumple to the ground, and then she saw no more, for blackness descended over the sun.

Chapter Nine.

Tess didn't know how much time pa.s.sed before she regained consciousness.

When she did, she was hanging facedown over the flanks of a sweating horse in front of the pseudo-Indian who had grabbed her. She was acutely uncomfortable.

Although the sun was setting, it was still ferociously hot. The sticky, wet hair of the horse irritated her flesh, and the continual and monotonous thump-thump- thump of its gait was bringing a ferocious pain to her head.

Her arms hurt, her back hurt, and her neck burned like blue blazes.

She was a great ma.s.s of pain, and at first that was all 'she could think of.

After a while she remembered. She'd been kidnapped. The bronze paint worn by the "warrior" behind her was coming off on her flesh and chemise where the man's thighs and knees rubbed against her.

And Jamie Slater was by the river with his head bashed in. couldn't be alive. He had fought for her, and he had b~n killed in the attempt.

Scalding tears stung her eyes. She fought back the urge to aloud.

Jamie could perhaps have survived. Maybe just been knocked unconscious.

They had left her for once, and she had survived. Jamie was tough. He had the war, he had. She had seen the club come against his skull.

Still, she couldn't accept it. She had to believe that he was alive because if she didn't she wouldn't care if she lived or died.

Maybe there wasn't much chance of her surviving, anyway. Von Heusen didn't know yet that there was now no way he was going to get his hands on the Stuart holdings. She wondered briefly about the other Slater brothers and their wives. Would they come to Wilts.h.i.+re to accept an inheritance? When they saw what had been happening, would they pick up her fight? Why should they? Because they were probably close. Because Jamie wouldn't have taken the time and the care to see that things were done the way they were if his brothers weren't willing to fight. To fight for him. To avenge his death.

No, no, he couldn't be dead. Please! G.o.d in heaven! she prayed silently.

Don't let him be dead, don't let him be dead, don't let him' be. "Let's hold up here!" someone called out.

The horse she was thrown over ceased plodding. A second animal trotted up beside it. The man spoke again.

"We've come far enough. Even if someone manages to find Slater's body, they won't be able to track us. Not across the river. And we left plenty of Comanche arrows behind. She still out, David?"

"Seems to be, Jeremiah."

"Well, that's good. Still, let's stop here for the night. By tomorrow afternoon we'll meet up with the Comancheros and turn the girl over to them."

Comancheros? Despite herself Tess felt a sizzle of terror sweep through her.

They weren't exactly Mexicans, and they weren't exactly Indians; they were a wild grouping of both who savagely lived off the land. They raided, pillaged, murdered and raped without thought, and they made much of their income by selling arms illegally to the Apache.

Von Heusen meant to have his revenge this time. He hadn't planned a quick, easy death for her. He had consigned her to a living h.e.l.l.

She couldn't let them give her to the Comancheros. Somehow, she was going to get the best of these men. And if they had killed Jamie, she had to see that they were brought to justice.

"Come on, let's get started setting Up a camp for the night," the man David said. He started to dismount.

"Boy, that did feel good, swinging that club against that b.a.s.t.a.r.d Slater.

After everything he did to us out at the Stuart place the other night, I just wish I'd had time to gouge out his eyes."

"Or take ' '~" a scajp. Jeremiah suggested with laughter.

"Yeah--or take a scalp."

"Do you think Hubert and Smitty have made it back with the good word for yon Heusen yet?"

"Probably. I told them to head straight back. Someone will find Slater's body soon enough. We want to make sure we can't be blamed for it. Come on, now, let's get her down and tied up before she comes to."

Jeremiah hopped off the horse. The one named David reached for her.

The one whose hands would be forever stained with the blood of Jamie Slater.

Tess let out a wild scream when those hands touched her. She was ready.

He wanted to gouge out eyes? Her fingers were flying madly for his. She caught him completely by surprise. He howled like an infant when her nails swiped his face, missing his eyes but digging deeply into the flesh of his cheek.

He stumbled, and she tried to right herself upon the horse.

The animal, panicked by the screams, reared high, its forelegs kicking and flailing. Desperate as she was, Tess couldn't quite gain her balance. The horse came down on four legs, kicking up great clouds of dust, then rose, pawing the sunset-hued air once again. Tess went flying into the bushes.

She lost her breath and lay stunned for several seconds. David and Jeremiah were shouting at one another, David giving the orders.

"Get the horse! Get the fool horse! I'm going for the girl."

Fear spurred her aching and bruised limbs into action. She managed to rise to her bare feet and race down a narrow trail between rows of dry bush. Her feet encountered rocks and stickers, and she gasped out and tried to pray.

Despite the pain she kept running. She felt as if her lungs would burst, as if her calves would buckle, but she kept going, desperate to be free.

But arms suddenly swept around her legs, and she plunged forward into the dirt. Mouthfuls of it seemed to choke her and fill her nose. She gasped and choked and wheezed and finally managed to open her eyes.

David sat atop her, straddling her. He was still wearing a breech clout and streaked theatrical paint, but he had discarded his black braided wig. His own reddish hair looked strange against the melted bronze paint, but matched the blood-red welts she had drawn across his face. He wasn't much past his early twenties, and might even have been halfway attractive if his way of life had not done things to his face and his eyes. Both were cold, and there was a permanent twist of dissatisfaction about his jaw. He smiled as he looked at her, enjoying her situation, reveling in his power and in her misery.