Tykota's Woman (Historical Romance) (16 page)

"Your father made that law because of the
betrayal by his Apache wife. You are a chief
now. You can change the law."

"It is law meant to protect the tribe. I cannot
change the law to suit my own needs. The tribe's
welfare is what matters."

Hannah knew Tykota would always deny his
needs and desires if he thought it was for the
good of the Perdenelas. "When the time comes,
can you walk away from her?"

Tykota stood and begin to pace. "I must. What
choice have I?"

She placed a hand on his arm. "Oh, my dear
son, with all our good intentions, what have we
done to you?"

Tykota went to the door. "I must speak to
Mangas."

Hannah nodded. "That dear man has waited
patiently for your return. But he is old, Ty, so
see that he gets his rest."

Tykota moved out of the house, reflecting that
within its walls he had known much happiness.
But he would soon need to leave this part of his
life behind forever.

Makinna sank into the soft mattress and sighed
contentedly. She had bathed and eaten and now
wore one of Mrs. Silverhorn's soft cotton
nightgowns. A cool breeze filtered through the
open window, and she closed her eyes,
welcoming sleep. She dreamed that she and
Tykota walked together; she belonged to him,
and he belonged to her. Then she fell into a
deeper sleep and did not dream at all.

Makinna awoke to the sound of voices filtering
into her room. She nestled deeper into the soft
pillow and smiled. No more running from danger
or going thirsty. The long ordeal was over. She
and Tykota were safe.

She stretched her arms over her head and
watched a warm breeze stir the lace curtains at
the window. It felt good just to rest her tired
body.

Suddenly she sat up, her heart pounding.
Suppose Tykota had left her there without saying
good-bye?

Makinna shook her head. Tykota would not
leave without telling her.

She slid quickly out of bed and looked around for her tattered dress. It was gone,
and so were her shoes. Draped across a chair
was a pink gown and soft leather shoes to
match. At the foot of her bed, she found
undergarments, and she smiled with delight
when she saw a comb and brush on the bedside table.

After fastening the corset, she slipped the
dress over her head and found to her delight that
it fit. She brushed her hair until it crackled, then
ventured out of the room.

As she descended the shiny wooden stairs,
she met Mrs. Silverhorn coming in the front
door, a basket of wildflowers hooked over her
arm.

"I hope you slept well, my dear."

"Yes, I did. Thank you very much." She
smoothed her dress and smiled. "Thank you for
the gown. It fits perfectly."

"It's not new, but I thought the color would
suit you nicely. I took it in a bit at the waist and
let out the hem. You're taller and slimmer than
I am."

"How very kind of you. But how did you
guess my size?"

Makinna watched Mrs. Silverhorn's eyes
crinkle into a smile. "I used your old gown as a
pattern. Are you hungry, Miss Hillyard?"

"Starved. And, please call me Makinna."

"Makinna it is." She ushered Makinna into the kitchen and seated her at the table. "It's
cozier here than in the formal dining room," she
said, placing the basket of flowers in the center
of the table.

Everything was neat and clean, just like the
woman Tykota called mother. "It must be lonely
for you out here, Mrs. Silverhorn." Makinna said
as her hostess scooped scrambled eggs onto a
blue china plate.

Mrs. Silverhorn turned to remove biscuits
from the oven and placed them on the table
before she answered. "There's never enough
time to be lonesome on a ranch, Makinna.
There's so much to do; the work is never
done."

Makinna spread honey on a steaming biscuit
and bit into it. "Have you ever thought about
going back to England?"

Mrs. Silverhorn poured coffee for herself
and Makinna and sat down across from her.
"This is my home now. Tykota just got back
from England, where he took my husband's
body to be buried in his family crypt in Cumberland."

"He didn't want to be buried here?"

"Although George learned to love this land,
he only settled here for Tykota's sake. It was his
wish that his body be returned to England. I
shall be buried beside him when my time
comes."

"So that was the reason Tykota was traveling
on the stage."

"Yes. He sailed to Galvenstan where he took
the stage. My son... Well, I keep hoping that
Ty will one day decide to make Biquera his
home."

"Do you think he will?"

Mrs. Silverhorn shook her head. "I don't
know what will happen in the future. If onlyI wish-" She made a helpless gesture and
changed the subject. "My son told me you were
on your way to live with your sister in California
when Adobe Springs was attacked."

"Have you ever been to California Mrs.
Silverhorn?"

"No, I haven't. When my husband bought this
ranch and we moved here, we talked about
traveling, but we never seemed to have the
time." She took a sip of coffee. "Now I don't
really care to leave. I only go to El Paso when
we need supplies."

"I suppose Tykota was up early this morning."

"That's right. Ty's always been an early riser.
He went to the Kincaid ranch to see his old
friend, John. They were once very close."

"I recall Tykota's mentioning John Kincaid.
They went to school together in England, didn't
they?"

"That's right. We were glad Ty could have an American friend with him there. John is a
very fine young man, and I know he misses
Ty"

"When... when will Tykota return?"

Mrs. Silverhorn laughed. "Oh, he's already
back. He's in the office going over the ledgers
for me. I'm hopeless when it comes to tallying
figures." Hannah gazed at Makinna for a
moment. "Do you mind if I ask you what
happened to your hair?"

Makinna's hand went to her shorn curls. "It
got so tangled, Tykota cut it with his knife."

"Say no more. If you want me to, I'll
straighten it out for you later on. I cut my own
hair." She patted the neat bun at the back of her
head. "And I'm pretty good at it."

"I'd appreciate that."

She patted Makinna's hand. "You have
beautiful hair. It just needs a snip here and there."

Makinna took another bite of the
mouthwatering biscuit and honey. "Perhaps
Tykota will decide to remain on the ranch and
help you out now that you are alone."

The little Englishwoman shook her head. "He
has too many people depending on him. Always
has. I will not add to that burden." She propped
her elbows on the table and studied the petal of a
delicate primrose thoughtfully. "As the new
chief of the Perdenelas tribe, Tykota feels his
first obligation is to his people."

Makinna gasped and paled, and Mrs.
Silverhorn patted her hand again.

"I see that my son didn't tell you about the
Perdenelas. He can be very secretive at times."

"I... I wasn't sure the Perdenelas really
existed. One of the men on the stage spoke of
them, but even he wasn't sure if they were real
or just a legend."

"Oh, they exist all right. But I will trust you to
keep their secret."

"I will say nothing about them. But I am
amazed that an entire culture can exist in
secret."

"As far as I know, my husband was the only
white men ever invited to their hidden village."
She leaned back, remembering what her husband
had told her about his first meeting with
the chief of the Perdenelas. "My George once
saved Chief Valatar's life. Many years ago my
husband came to Texas with some of his
friends on a hunting expedition. On their third
day out, he became separated from the rest of
his party, and that was when he encountered a
man being attacked by several Apaches. Later,
my husband learned that the man was chief of
the Perdenelas. When George came upon him,
all of Valatar's braves had been killed, and the
chief was pinned down in a gully, gravely
wounded. My husband came at the Apaches
with both guns firing. The Indians must have thought George crazed, because they promptly
rode away."

"How amazing!"

Hannah's eyes softened. "My husband was an
amazing man. He bandaged Valatar as best he
could and made camp for the night.

Hannah took a sip of her coffee, wrinkled her
nose at the taste, and added more cream before
she spoke. "George remained with the chief for
several days, tending to his wounds and nursing
him back to health. When Valatar was well
enough, he rode away during the night without a
word to George."

"That seems a bit ungrateful. Did Valatar ever
come back?"

"No. But when George finally made his way
back to his friends, who had given him up for
dead, and told them about his adventure, they
were a bit skeptical until, one day, an Indian
came riding into their base camp. He was tall
like Valatar, and George knew he was from the
same tribe."

"What did the Indian say?"

"With sign language and arm motions, he
indicated that George was to go with him. He
took him to the hidden village of the Perdenelas,
in the sacred Valley of the Moon. Valatar wanted
to reward him, and he also wanted George to
teach him English."

"And did he?"

"Indeed. George remained with the tribe for over a year, learning the Perdenelas language as
well, and when he was ready to leave, Valatar
loaded him down with gold."

"It must have come from the legendary
treasure!"

"You will not tell this to anyone?"

"Never." Makinna shook her head.

"George didn't want to take the gold, but
Valatar insisted. And as it happened it allowed
us to take even better care of Ty-buying this
ranch and educating him in England. Valatar
was a stubborn man. His son has that same
trait."

"I know all too well about that side of
Tykota," Makinna admitted. Then she hesitated.
"He told me that you and your husband took him
into your home because someone was trying to
kill him."

Mrs. Silverhorn lowered her gaze. "And I fear
there are those who still want him dead."

"Do you know who?"

"I have always suspected his half brothers and
his stepmother."

Saber could better understand why Tykota was
so secretive about his life. "I can only imagine
how pained Tykota must feel, wanting to be your
son and care for you, yet knowing he owes his
loyalty to his tribe."

"My son walks in two worlds, belonging to
neither. I pray every day that he will find peace
within himself." Mrs. Silverhorn stood and began clearing the table. "Ty wanted to see you
after you had eaten. He's in the study off the
entry."

"May I help you with the dishes?"

Mrs. Silverhorn smiled. "You have not met
our cook, Frances, since she has gone to El
Paso for supplies. She barely allows me in her
kitchen. But let's go into my sewing room first,
and I will straighten you hair, and then you can
go to my son."

As Makinna walked beside Hannah, the older
woman placed a hand on her arm. "You won't
tell anyone what we talked about this morning,
will you?"

Makinna shook her head. "I would never
betray your trust. Or Tykota's."

Tykota had just closed the ledger when a soft rap
came on the door. He stood. "Come in,
Makinna."

She opened the door and stepped inside. His
long hair neatly tied back, Tykota was dressed in
buff-colored trousers, highly polished boots, and
a snow-white shirt that provided a sharp contrast
to his bronzed skin. He was so handsome her
heart raced at the sight of him. "Your mother
said you wanted to see me."

He pulled out a chair for her. "Please be
seated."

Tykota seemed so different in this setting,
somehow at peace with himself.

"I like your mother, Tykota," was all she
could think to say."

"Thank you. Everyone does."

He seated himself and studied her for a long
moment. The pink gown made her skin glow and
enhanced her delicate beauty. "Your skin is
nicely tanned, Makinna."

She winced. "My sister will probably be
horrified. It will take months to get rid of it."

"I forget that your race favors light skin." He
rearranged some papers on his desk, and if
Makinna hadn't known better, she would have
thought he was nervous.

"You had something to tell me?" Sensing
what it was, she dreaded hearing it. He was
going to send her away.

Tykota met her gaze. "After you have rested
and recovered completely from your ordeal, I
will have some of the ranch hands escort you to
El Paso where you can board a stage for
California." He hesitated. "No one need ever
know what happened, Makinna. I know your
reputation would suffer if anyone found out that
you spent days in the desert alone with an
Indian."