Bittner, Rosanne (14 page)

"You
never mentioned Caldwell last night," John told her.

She
looked across the fire at him. "I really hadn't given it much thought
until we started talking about Colonel Bass." She couldn't hold back a wry
grin then. "I might add that although I've never known you before now, I
had heard about you through gossip from Caldwell's wife, Harriet. She doesn't
think too highly of Ranger John Hawkins."

Ken
laughed. "That ain't exactly news to Hawk!"

John
scowled at his friend. "I don't care what his wife thinks." He looked
back at Tess. "It's Caldwell himself that concerns me. I don't like the
man, and I don't trust him."

"Nor
do I, but I may have to deal with him now."

"Well,
little lady, the first thing you have to do is get back to El Paso safely, and
me and Hawk will see that you do. After that we'll help however we can."
Ken raised his coffee cup. "And by the way, I gotta say this is sure
better coffee than the black pitch Hawk makes!"

John
waved him off. "I keep telling you to make it yourself. Coffee is a white
man's drink."

"Well,
you're more than half white, so you ought to at least be able to make decent
coffee." Ken handed an empty cup to Tess. "You figurin' on gettin'
some miles behind you yet today?" he asked John.

John
shrugged. "I was going to let Mrs. Carey rest one more day before making
her travel."

"I
don't need to. The longer we hang around here, the more likely it is the Apache
will find us, or maybe whoever was supposed to meet those men you left lying
dead south of here," Tess answered. "I don't need pampering, Mr.
Hawkins," she added, preferring to use his formal name in front of someone
else. "I've told you that."

Ken
looked at John with raised eyebrows. This was some woman. He expected John was
quite impressed with this one. He turned back to Tess, seeing determined fire
in her blue eyes—pretty eyes, they were. And that hair, red as Texas clay. And
it was amazing such a little thing could have suffered the horror she surely
had and not be completely broken.

John
just shook his head. "I think you
should
rest, but since you're so
bent on showing us there isn't a weak bone in your body, I'll pack up our
things and saddle the horses and we'll go." He walked to the back of the
cave to get the horses, and Ken turned to Tess.

"Well,
I'm right honored to meet you, Mrs. Carey. I admire your courage and stamina.
Hawk and I will get you back to El Paso, and we'll help you however we can once
you get there. You just tell us what you need."

Tess
liked him right away. "Thank you, Mr. Randall."

He
leaned closer. "Ole Hawk there is an ornery cuss, ain't he? I expect you
saw some pretty rough things once he made his move. He's mean and sometimes
downright vicious, but he gets the job done. He was so bent on reachin' you
that he just took off alone to go after you. That was a dangerous thing to
do."

"I
know. I appreciate it very much." She folded her arms. "And yes, he
is
an ornery cuss. It's hard to carry on a conversation with him without
making him angry about something. A person doesn't even have to try."

Ken
laughed. "You've got that right. I've been pissin' him off for a couple of
years!" He covered his mouth. "Oh, excuse my language, ma'am."

"Quit
talking about me, and get over here and saddle this other horse," John
ordered his partner.

Ken
rose. "You clean up here and we'll be on our way in no time," he told
Tess.

Tess
poured what little coffee was left into the fire, and the liquid hissed against
hot coals. She wondered why she felt suddenly a little sad about leaving the
cave. More than that, she was a little sad that once they got back to El Paso,
it was unlikely she would see much of John Hawkins again. How silly to care.

They
seemed to rise right out of the earth, totally invisible one moment, appearing
from behind rocks and brush the next. Their screams and war whoops were
chilling, and Tess watched in terror as one of them headed for her. His black
hair looked dusty, and a red scarf was tied around his forehead. His hand was
raised, a hatchet in it. She heard a boom beside her as John quickly whisked
out his six-gun and shot.

The
Indian's face exploded in blood, and Tess felt helpless as more of them came
on. John shoved his six-gun into her hand.

"Use
it!" he ordered. He yanked his rifle out of its boot. Ken's horse was
turning in circles, and Ken was shooting at the Indians with both his six-guns,
downing them right and left. John aimed for a few farther away, dropping
several of them before they could get closer.

Tess
screamed when someone grabbed her leg, and she fired point-blank into the
forehead of a another marauder. She noticed they were much shorter than the Comanche
renegades she had seen, and their faces were flatter. Apache! She damn well
did
know the difference between some Indian tribes. The Indian she'd shot fell
away from her, and then her horse began to go down. She realized only then that
her attacker had buried a hatchet into the animal's rump. "Mr.
Hawkins!" she yelled as the horse fell. It rolled onto her left ankle, and
she cried out with pain, the hard saddle crushing her ankle bone against the
hard ground.

Another
Indian came at her, and she shot him in the belly. He fell over the horse, and
Tess frantically began trying to get her leg out from under the animal. Quickly
John Hawkins was beside her, shooting at more Indians. He turned then and shot
her horse in the head before grabbing her about the shoulders and pulling while
kicking at the horse at the same time until finally her ankle came loose. He
dragged her away, shooting one more Indian, then rose and picked her up as
though she were light as a feather. He plopped her on his horse and quickly
pulled the saddlebags off the dead horse and threw them over her lap.

"You
okay, Ken?"

"I'm
fine. Let's ride hard before more come. We can make the Rio Grande in a few
hours."

John
mounted up behind Tess, putting his arms around her to grab hold of the reins.
"Hang on!" he told her. "We downed this bunch, but there are
probably more." He kicked his horse into a hard run, and Tess clung to the
saddle horn, realizing that even if she held on to nothing, John's strong grip
on her would keep her from falling.

They
had been traveling for two days, putting in long hours in the saddle, trying to
get out of Mexico. This was the first trouble they had had. Tess had avoided
any more personal questions, afraid that if she got too nosy, Ken would think
she was actually interested in John Hawkins as something more than just a
Ranger who had rescued her. Besides that, they were all too worn out for much
conversation.

She
truly wondered how much more she could take. The sudden attack had rekindled
all the horror of her abduction. In only ten days she had seen so much death
and violence, had known so much personal suffering. She was now far removed
from the Tess Carey who'd been casually preparing lunch the day the Comancheros
had come to the ranch, and she wondered if true law and order would ever really
come to this land.

She
was not sure how far they had traveled at the aching pace before John finally
slowed his horse because he feared he'd ride it to death. The palomino was
breathing in panting snorts, and lather was beginning to appear on its neck.

"We'd
better get off and walk the horses for a while," John told Ken.

His
hand casually gripped Tess's stomach as he dismounted, and she felt a stirring
that disarmed her. She had shared an odd intimacy with the man that left her at
a loss over how she should feel about him. His strong hands gripped her about
the waist then, and he lifted her down with the same ease he'd put her on the
horse to begin with.

"Glad
you were along, Ken," he told his partner. "I don't think I could have
handled that one alone."

"The
bastards came out of nowhere. Typical Apache."

Both
men took their horses by the reins and began walking, Tess between them. Tess
realized they must have forgotten about her ankle. In fact, she had nearly
forgotten herself, until she began walking. She'd been so concerned about
getting away and hanging on to John's saddle that she had ignored the pain. Now
that was impossible. She put up with it as long as possible, hating to have a
fuss made over her, but finally she had to grab John's arm. "My
ankle," she said. "It must be broken or sprained. The horse fell on
it."

He
stopped walking and looked down at her. "Well, since you weigh hardly
anything at all, I expect you could ride on Sundance while we walk." He
frowned. "Unless you think I would be
patronizing
you by the
offer."

Tess
scowled. "Please. It really hurts."

"Oh,
I believe that." He picked her up and set her back on his horse.
"Let's have a look." He unlaced her shoe and easily pulled it off,
since it was too big. These had been the only shoes she'd found in the trunk of
stolen goods at the outlaw camp. She didn't wear any stockings because she had
none.

A
wave of embarrassment and uneasy memories moved through Tess as John pushed up
the hem of her dress a little and studied her swollen, bruised ankle. Normally
it wouldn't seem right, letting a near stranger see her bare foot and part of
her leg... but this man had seen much more than that. She winced when he plied
the ankle with fingers surprisingly gentle.

"I
don't think it's broken, but it's going to give you a lot of pain for quite a
few days. I can wrap it with something to secure it and maybe keep some of the
swelling down if you want."

"I'll
be all right until we make camp. We have to keep going. I want to get across
the river."

John
met her eyes, still admiring her spunk. Those blue eyes looked back at him with
pride, and a hint of indignation. He suspected she could not quite get over the
embarrassment of knowing he'd seen much more of her than an ankle... and
he
could
not get over the memory of it himself. He almost hated the thought of leaving
her in El Paso, or wherever she wanted him to take her, probably to see her
seldom, if ever again. He handed her the shoe and took up his horse's reins.

"Say,
you did right good back there, Mrs. Carey," Ken told her. "You got
two of 'em. Maybe you ought to join the Rangers. You think they'd take a woman,
Hawk?"

John
snickered. "That will be the day."

"Don't
be so condescending, Mr. Hawkins," Tess told him. "Women can do a lot
of things men can do. I believe I saved your own hide more than once the last
four days."

Ken
laughed. "She's got you there, Hawk."

"The
only thing she's got me on is when she uses those damn big words. I've just
started figuring out what patronizing means. Now she says I'm condescending. I
don't know what that means either."

"It
means—"

"I
don't
want
to know!" John bit out at her. Why did these sudden
feelings he kept getting for Tess Carey make him so angry? Lord, her leg was
pretty. Even her feet were pretty. Most people had ugly feet. He needed a
reason to dislike her, simply because she'd probably never give him an ounce of
credit or a moment of her time once they got back. Of that he was sure. She'd
probably laugh her head off if she knew she gave him fancy thoughts about
wanting to hold her, comfort her. If he needed a reason to be irritated with
her, and to be sure he could never be interested in a woman like that, those
damn words she used were a good enough reason. How could a man be around a woman
whose conversation he didn't even understand half the time?

"Oh,
go ahead and tell us what it means," Ken put in, figuring Tess needed
something to talk about. Surely she'd been shaken by the run-in with the
Apache, even though she was trying not to show it.

Tess
pulled some hair behind her ear. The day had grown cloudy, and at last they
were not being pummeled with hot sun. Still she felt filthy again, longed for
another bath. She would have to stay this way until they reached El Paso, for
she had no clean clothes to put on. She hated the thought of riding in looking
like this, dusty, sweaty, her hair a tangled mess.

"It
means almost the same thing as patronizing," she answered. "It means
arrogant, snobbish. You were being condescending to say women cannot be
Rangers, as though only men like you can do such things."

"Well,
then I
meant
to be condescending," John answered, "because
women
can't
Rangers."

"I
am sure there are some who could be," Tess answered.

"I
have to agree with her, John."

"Now
you're
being patronizing," John told him.

Ken
laughed. "You're gettin' pretty good at rememberin' them words. Next thing
you know, you'll be learnin' to read."

John
gave him a scowl.

"You
must know how to read, Mrs. Carey, if you know all them words," Ken told
her.

"I
learned mostly on my own by studying books, asking my father to read to me and
then reading as much as I could on my own. I have..." She remembered the
farmhouse had been burned by the Comancheros. Her books, all gone! "I
had
a lot of books at home. I suppose I will have to find a way to replace
them."