Comanche Haven (The Loflin Legacy: Book 1) (7 page)

Celia’s chilled voice shot back,
“You’re right, it won’t.”

Seth slid his hands in his back pockets
and took another step back. It hurt even more to see the regret
cloud her eyes. Seth looked off into the distance and there was a
pregnant pause before he spoke again. “I’ll take you to your father
in the morning.” His anger like his words had chilled right along
with hers. Seth turned on his heel and left her alone.

***

He needed some air, damn it! The hunger
burning in him was a treacherous betrayal as far as he was
concerned. She’d humiliated him by refusing to kiss him. Damn, her
to hell! He’d convinced himself, he was over her, hadn’t he? Seth
headed back down the creek. The cool water sloshing under his boots
was a welcome distraction to his sour thoughts. Taking care of her
cousin would give his tormented mind something to think about
besides her effect on him. Confound it! How many times had he told
himself she was nothing more than a memory? But she’d come back!
Then he’d almost kissed her. Well, he had to admit she was more
than just a memory. The past came rushing back and throttled him
completely. Blindly, Seth stalked further in the direction Celia
had indicated. He’d find Broken Horse and do whatever came
next.

It would be ridiculously funny if it
weren’t so damn maddening. Running a hand over his face, Seth
slowed and took a deep breath. Okay, so he’d learned she’d traveled
back east and gain an education. Exactly how she’d managed the
small feat and why, he still didn’t completely understand. But he
sure as hell intended to find out. It had been twelve long years
since he’d last laid eyes on her and suddenly out of the blue she
showed up. Not only shows up, but steps off the stage dressed like
a lady and acting like one to boot. There sure as hell was more to
the story than she was telling him. He’d bet money on
it.

Muttering low, Seth crossed the low
flowing water as he searched the creek bank. In the distance, two
booted feet stuck out from the brush along the bank. It had to be
him. Seth drew closer. Broken Horse lay half in the water and from
a check of his vitals, Seth was relieved to find his old friend
alive but he’d taken quite a blow to the head. “Broken Horse?” Seth
urged, patting him on the shoulder for a response. None came.
Probably unconscious and Celia would be able to tell for sure.
Rising, Seth took his knife from his boot and cut some young
sapling to construct a sled for Broken Horse. As he worked, he
brooded.

Had time changed her feelings so much?
Because time sure as hell had stood still for him. Denying she
still made his heart lurch in his chest didn’t prevent it from
happening every time she looked him square in the face. He made
enough noise to wake the dead in the creek as he mulled over the
events.

On top of that, regret at having been
the one to hire those two chewed at his insides. He’d have given
anything to have her look at him with something other than the
reproach she’d hurled his way when she found out the outlaws had
been his men. Knowing she didn’t trust him cut deep. Fighting a
good case of the red-ass, Seth chose not to listen to the voice,
which persisted on reminding him he hadn’t trusted her since she’d
left. Kicking at the iron-ore shale resting in the shallows and
fuming with the frustration building inside him, Seth took solace
in remembering how miserable he’d been.

Why did he want to console her if he
didn’t trust her? It unsettled him to find out how strong the urge
was. Instead, he mentally shook himself and went about doing what
needed doing. With the sled assembled and Broken Horse resting on
it, Seth returned to the fire. Glancing at Celia who still sat
huddled in his coat, Seth said, “He’s not dead. Follow
me.”

“
What?” Celia scrambled to
her feet despite the cumbersome coat and flapping pants. “He’s not
dead? How is he? Is he hurt bad? Where?” She searched the trees and
bank of the creek in the direction Seth had returned. “Take me to
him, please.”

Seth led Celia back to Broken Horse’s
side. When she’d finished examining him, Seth secured him to Sarge.
Extending his hand to Celia, he hoisted her into the saddle as if
she weighed nothing. “It’s been a long day. You can lean into me,”
Seth offered. Watching the negative shake of her head, he ignored
the little sting of rejection. “Suit yourself.”

The Comanche maiden had come home. But
she no longer resembled the girl he’d loved on the banks of that
very creek. He could still feel the kick to his chest when she’d
first appeared in the stage doorway. The pain hadn’t eased as she’d
displayed a very strong backbone when confronted with prejudice.
Then her defensive skills had reminded him of the Comanche maiden
he’d known before. The picture of her fighting off not one, but two
attackers with nothing more than a parasol made him grin. She
resembled a wild cat cornered and mad. What a lovely contradiction
she’d become. Haughty, educated and hell to cross he decided and
had to grin again.

Then the thought of who she’d left
behind struck like a thunder clap. She probably had a family back
in Charleston. The thought knotted his insides good and proper.
Twelve years changed things for sure.

He remembered all too well the fact
that upon his return from the Army, he’d found Celia gone. The
whole tribe had just vanished. Sure, the fact that a nomadic tribe
had moved on was normal, but no one could tell him where or why.
He’d questioned everyone and searched for months, but not one
person had seen her, or so they said. In the pit of his stomach,
Seth harbored a bad feeling his father, the Captain may have had
something to do with their disappearance. The old man had died soon
after his father and he had come across another situation Seth
hadn’t known about.

Then the responsibility of running the
ranch had fallen to Seth. It wasn’t long before he had reached all
he could handle.

Time had passed and he’d thrown himself
into the work. It was a known fact Seth drove himself hard and took
no less from his men. He found sleep to be something he could fall
into only after coming to the mind-numbing brink of exhaustion.
Then there was the whiskey. If a man had to have a vice, Seth
guessed the bottle tucked away in his nightstand was his. Time and
again, he’d rationalized it helped take the edge off the pain which
ripped through him when he stretched out to try and forget her. Not
wanting to admit the truth didn’t make it any less real, he
mused.

***

Seth’s camp, bathed in the shadows of
the setting sun lay under a massive oak tree. Lavender and purple
stripes streaked across a sky of molten orange as the sun made its
final decent. Celia watched long spears of light filtering through
the trees. Mixing with the dust floating in a great haze over the
ground, the light seemed to a swirl through the trees like the
spirits of the dead. Near the fire, a black and white cattle dog
darted back and forth as if in welcome.

Seth reined his horse in and walked the
trail weary animal to the tie-out line.

The smell of stew drew Celia’s
attention toward a canvas-covered shelter tied between two large
pines. The fire burning brightly was like a beacon in the chilled
evening air.

Thank goodness, there weren’t any men
in Seth’s camp. Seth’s coat and the baggy pants did little to hide
the fact things weren’t right which reminded her once more of the
reason she was there. Her hair lay in a disheveled mess about her
shoulders. Swelling bloomed under her right eye and along her chin.
Tears had left her eyes swollen and burning. She had big, blue
fingerprint marks all along her arms and wondered what marks were
evident on the parts of her body she couldn’t see. It wouldn’t do
to think about the attack - not now.

The leather creaked under Seth’s weight
as he dismounted. Turning, he reached up and took Celia in his arms
settling her on the ground with care.

“
I’ve got stew in the pot.
The bowls are in my knapsack.” He watched her hesitate when she saw
the dog eyeing her curiously. “Don’t worry about Cutter, he won’t
bother you. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Celia moved toward the fire while
watching the dog who continued to wag his tail. Glancing about, she
noted how neat and orderly Seth kept his surroundings. Funny, but
she wouldn’t have thought him to be organized. Perhaps the stint at
West Point had brought it out of him. She found the bowls and
spoons and then went about setting up a table of sorts out of a
leather hide she found hanging on a pole.

Seth drug Broken Horse up near the fire
and came around to join her. “How long do you think he’ll be
out?”

“
It’s hard to say. It may be
only a little while or it could be months. The brain is a fickle
organ.” Celia spooned stew up in the bowls.

Reaching back into his knapsack, Seth
produced a small brown paper wrapper. He carefully unwrapped two
pones of hot water cornbread.

With a glint of appreciation, she took
the one he offered and settled down to enjoy her stew. As she ate,
Celia noticed the cow-dog laid favor to a spot next to Seth.
Wondering if he intended to sleep, Celia continued to watch him.
The dog never moved, only continued to keep his eyes on his master.
Soon Seth broke off a small bite of the cornbread and flicked it
into the air. Cutter leapt off the ground and caught the bread
cleanly, jaws snapping shut. Then he turned a circle and settled
next to Seth once more.

“
Did you teach him that?”
Celia asked.

“
What? Oh, the catching
thing?” Seth glanced at Cutter and Celia could plainly see the
pride in his eyes.

“
Yea, I guess you could say
we perfected that move over time.” Reaching out, he rubbed the
black and white canine behind the ear. A shaggy black tail thumped
in the dirt.

“
Will he do it for
me?”

Seth looked up from his stew. His eyes
held a curious gleam. “Yea, I guess so.”

Scooting up on her perch, Celia broke
off a piece of cornbread and waved it in front of the dog. “Here,
boy. Come and get it.” With the last word, she flung the bread.
Cutter sprang into action and before she could blink, the bread was
history. “That’s really good.” Celia wiped the crumbs from her
fingers on the leg of her oversized pants. “Does he know any other
tricks?”

“
A few.” Seth never looked
up as he worked at polishing off his supper.

“
Can you show
me?”

“
Not right now. I’m eating.”
Irritation rippled through his expression.

Without saying more, Celia was
undeterred and broke off another piece of bread. Taking deliberate
action, Celia motioned for Cutter. The dog focused on the bread and
when it was high in the air, he leaped.

“
Good boy!” Celia beamed for
her new friend as Cutter settled next to her and sniffed at her
pants. Apparently recognizing the scent, he laid his head on his
crossed paws and closed his eyes.

“
I think he likes me.” Celia
rubbed the dog’s ear again.

“
Hmph.” was all Seth said.
Getting to his feet, he retrieved two bedrolls and handed one to
Celia. “You’ll need this tonight.” Seth turned toward his side of
the fire.

“
Would you mind if we
talked? I can’t seem to settle and it might help.” Celia brushed
the pants over her thighs.

He stopped dead still as if she’d
pulled a gun on him. Then with cool precision, he turned retraced
his steps to sit on his haunches near the fire. “Well, what do you
want to talk about?”

“
I don’t know. Umm…How’s
your family? How’s your brother, Ty?”

“
Good.”

Celia fidgeted with the cuff of the big
coat. Crossing her arms over her chest, she rubbed. His answer held
all the inflection of a board fence. Why couldn’t they at least be
civil?

“
Are you cold?” Seth’s eyes
were blue steel slits in the shadows from the firelight.

Celia shook her head. “Not much.” She
pulled her toes up and covered the socks Seth had given her with
the baggy pant legs. “I thought you would’ve stayed at Claudette’s
tonight.” Celia flushed at her own boldness.

Seth cut his eyes at her once before
setting the bowl aside. “She would’ve liked me to. But a man has
responsibilities. Mine never end.” He glanced out into the
deepening darkness. “You said Broken Horse wrote you.” He turned
back to watch her intently as he skillfully changed the
subject.

“
Yes.” Somehow, she wasn’t
surprised at the move.

“
You knew then about his
work toward a treaty settlement?”

“
Broken Horse described his
work in his letters. He spoke of the tension between The People and
the white man. There were times, he said, when peace seemed
possible and then something would happen – a raid, a massacre, and
fighting would break out again. So many of our people have died.
Then some of those who had agreed to travel to the reservation have
not stayed. Instead they choose to hide out and attack the white
man.”

Glancing back, she found Seth staring
at her. Was it concern he regarded her with or pity? The sting to
her pride fueled her next words. “The time has come for my cousins
to take up the leadership of our tribe, and I fear for my people.
Red Bear speaks of drawing blood and fighting the white man for our
place on this land. Broken Horse seeks…” Celia sighed. “Broken
Horse seeks the council and speaks on Lone Eagle’s behalf when
matters necessitated he do so.” Celia watched the fire intently.
“But many times the white man broke his promises to the people. My
cousin, Red Bear and those who follow him, want retribution for all
the Comanche have lost.”