Tykota's Woman (Historical Romance) (18 page)

"You must have heard what Mr. Rumford said
about the Perdenelas that day in the stagecoach."

"I did."

"When he asked you if you knew anything
about the tribe, you told him you didn't."

He let out a breath. "That is not what I said,
Makinna. I told him I could tell him nothing.
Which is not the same thing...."

"Yes, I see."

A long silence followed until Tykota turned to
her.

"I just wanted to say that it has been an honor
to know you, Makinna." He swallowed quickly before he continued. "I want to wish you
happiness. I want... I want..."

She had never known him to be this uncertain.
She stepped closer to him. "What do you want,
Tykota?"

The words seemed ripped from his throat.
"When you leave, you will take my... best
wishes with you."

"Is that all?"

He reached out to her, pulling her against him.
He rested his chin on top of her head. "Take my
heart with you, Makinna, because no other
woman will ever have it. But understand this:
there is no place in my life or heart for a
woman-any woman."

She was afraid she might cry. He had just
admitted he cared for her, but not enough to take
her with him. Her heart yearned for so much
more. She could not speak.

He held her in silence. "I will never love a
woman as I-" He broke off. "I do not want to
hurt you, Makinna."

She raised her head and looked into his dark
eyes. "Tykota." She touched his face. Her lips
quivered, and pain she could hardly bear tore at
her heart. "How can I endure it when you go?"

His arms tightened around her, and he held
her without saying a word. At last he raised
her chin and bent his head, touching his lips
to hers.

Makinna surrendered to him, her eager lips
opening to his. He deepened the kiss, expressing
his emotions in the only way he could. His hands
slid down her back, pressing her tightly against
his swelling hardness, needing this small
intimacy between them, yet hating himself for
the weakness.

Makinna pressed her hips against him, feeling
almost faint. She wanted... she wanted more
from him than a kiss. She wanted to feel his
heart beat against her aching breasts, and

Tykota broke off the kiss and quickly stepped
away from her. How could he have given in to
his desire? He turned away from the confusion in
her eyes. "I didn't mean for that to happen,
Makinna. But when I am with you, I cannot
seem to stop myself. Will you forgive me?"

She wanted to scream at him that she would
never forgive him for throwing her love away. If
he didn't love her, at least he desired her. How
could he walk away from what they had? "I want
to be with you, Tykota."

His voice was husky, and he still did not look
at her. "What do you mean, Makinna?"

She went to him, slid her arms around his
waist, and rested her head against his back,
listening to the drumming of his heart. "I don't
know what I mean, Tykota. How could I, since I
have never known a man? I want you to teach
me, because I don't want anyone else."

She felt him tense. "One day your husband will teach you." She felt him tremble. "Some day
a man will touch you." He dislodged her hands
and turned to face her, touching her lips with one
finger. "He will kiss those lips until they swell
with longing." One trembling hand went up to
her breasts. "He will know the sweetness of
these and make you moan with pleasure." He
lowered his head and kissed her through the
material of her gown, and she could feel that kiss
burn through her.

Then he pressed her back against the house,
deep in the shadows, and his hand went between
her thighs, and his breath came out in a groan.
"One day, a man will know the joy of
deflowering you, Makinna." He caressed her
until she threw back her head and bit her Up to
keep from crying out.

"Tykota. Oh, Tykota," she whispered, her
body quaking with desire.

Tykota wrestled with his own desire and felt
himself losing the battle. He hadn't meant things
to go this far, but he could not seem to stop
himself. He dropped to one knee and kissed her
between her thighs through the skirt of her gown.
He felt her tremble, and tears blinded him as he
too, quaked with desire. "One day a man will
enter that paradise and know the sweetness of
your soul."

Makinna wanted to rip off her gown so there
would be nothing between her and the wonderful
hands playing such havoc with her body. "Tykota, please," she begged, her virginal body
on fire for him.

He stood to his full height and moved away
from her, pausing on the steps to gain control
over his emotions. "I could take you right now,
have all of you, Makinna. But I am not willing to
sacrifice your future to satisfy my desires." Her
eyes were shining with passion, and he wanted
her so badly it hurt. "I cannot. You would always
suffer for it if I did."

Her lips parted. "But I want you to."

He groaned. "You do not know what you ask."

When she moved forward and pressed her lips
to his, his resolve almost snapped.

"I know what I ask. I want to be with you."
She must make him understand how she felt, that
she would never want any man to touch her but
him.

His voice was deep and trembled when he
spoke. "Someday you will be loved by a man,
Makinna. But that man will not be me."

Shattered, she turned away and ran into the
house. She hurried up the stairs and into her
bedroom. Throwing herself onto the bed, she
sobbed with the pain of loving a man who was
utterly unobtainable.

Why had he made her want him? He had
awakened her to desire, then left her feverish and
unfulfilled. She would never again be the same
innocent girl who had begun her journey from New Orleans. And she would never forget
the tall, dark-eyed Indian who had stolen her
heart.

When Makinna finally stopped crying, the
house was dark and quiet. Needing a breath of
air, and seeking release, she made her way
carefully down the stairs and out the front door.
Shards of moonlight struck the landscape,
making it seem almost enchanted. She headed
for the corral and put a bit between the pinto's
teeth, then hoisted herself onto its back and she
raced away from the ranch, into the darkness.

Lost in her misery, she did not see the dark
angry eyes that watched her gallop away. She
did not know she was being followed.

When Makinna heard the sound of a rider behind
her, she urged the surefooted pinto into a faster
gallop across the flat land, scattering cattle as
she rode past. She was afraid it was Tykota
chasing her, and she couldn't face him yet. If she
did, she might crumble into a thousand pieces.

Suddenly, the river loomed in front of
Makinna, blocking her path. She reined in her
mount with such force that the animal reared up
on its hind legs, and she tightened her grip to
keep from sliding off.

She whirled her horse around to face the
inevitable. In the bright moonlight she saw not
one rider but six bearing down on her. She
gasped in horror. Indians!

She wheeled the pinto, ready to risk being
drowned rather than taken by the Apache. But it
was too late. Already two Indians were beside
her, one grabbing the reins from her hands, the
other blocking her path.

Dear God, help me, she prayed.

Tykota arose before sunup. He wanted to ride the
ranch one last time, to say good-bye to the home
of his youth and to a way of life that would soon
be ending for him. He also wanted to leave
before Makinna awoke; he didn't trust himself to
see her again.

After walking around the barn and pausing to
glance toward the distant mountains, he walked
purposefully toward the corral. The black and
white pinto cantered up to him and brushed
against his outstretched hand. Tykota glanced
around the corral. Where was the second pinto,
the one Makinna had ridden?

He climbed over the fence and jumped to the
ground. Bending down, he examined the
footprints he found in the soft sand. Makinna had
been there. He traced her steps until they
disappeared, where she had mounted the second
pinto.

Uneasiness settled on him, and he quickly headed
for Mangas's cabin. Without knocking, he
burst inside. The old man was having breakfast,
and he looked up at Tykota quizzically. "Have you come to eat the morning meal with
me as you did as a boy?"

"One of the Apache pintos is missing," Tykota
announced.

"Why does this concern you?"

"A woman's footprints, made hours ago,
probably sometime last night, show that
Makinna mounted it and rode out and did not
return."

Mangas listened carefully. "I will saddle two
horses."

Makinna struggled against the rough hands
pulling at her. She spun her pinto around, but she
was no match for the Indians. One of them
struck her with the butt of his rifle, and she fell
forward, unconscious.

When Makinna regained consciousness, her
head was aching, and she couldn't move. She
remembered being surrounded by Apaches, and
then exploding pain. She tried to move her arms
and her legs, but they were tied.

Glancing around frantically, she saw that she
was lying on the ground. The only light came
from a small campfire. After evading them for so
long, she had fallen into the hands of the Apache
because of her own carelessness.

Stark terror ruled her mind. What were they
going to do with her?

Makinna counted six Apaches speaking
excitedly, and she wished she knew what they
were saying. Or maybe she didn't want to
know. She cringed when one of them rose to
walk toward her and stared at her with dark,
menacing eyes. She lowered her gaze, waiting
for death. But he merely bent to make certain
her ropes were tight enough, then rejoined his
companions.

After a while, two of the Indians took up
their rifles and left camp-she supposed to
stand guard-while one of the others put out
the fire.

Hope flared to life within her. If they sent
guards out, they expected Tykota to come after
her. Then her hope faded, and she felt a sob
building up deep inside. Of course Tykota
would come for her. That was what they
wanted him to do. And she was the bait to
draw him in.

Tears ran down her cheeks. Tykota was going
to die, and it was all her fault.

Tykota and Mangas dismounted and crouched
by the river, examining the unshod horses'
tracks.

With a grim expression, Mangas said,
"Apache. At least six of them." The old man,
traced one of the hoofprints with a bony finger,
he could read them like a white man could read the pages of a book. "Chiricahua Apache,
but not the warriors of Cochise."

"I know who they are, Mangas," Tykota said
grimly. "It could be no one but Sinica or some of
his warriors."

The old man nodded. "He will use the woman
to trap you."

"I know this."

"He turned renegade and makes war wherever
he goes. He has set the white man's hand against
all Chiricahua Apache. But he does not care. He
thinks only of your death. He has broken the
lance and sworn to kill you."

Tykota gazed into the distance. "There should
not be such hate between brothers."

"Hear this, Tykota. Sinica would kill the
woman to get at you, but more likely he will
keep her alive long enough to entrap you and to
make you watch her die."

Tykota raised his head to the sky and
remembered to keep from yelling out his rage.
The last traces of civilization stripped away from
him. Then he took a deep breath, and his eyes
narrowed. "Sinica's days to walk this earth are
small in number. And if he has harmed my
woman, I will make sure he begs for death
before it welcomes him."

Mangas stood up and looked around, his
eyes seeing that which few people could. He
pointed to the muddy riverbank. "That is where the woman went into the river, and that is
where her horse left with the others. But it was
lighter. She was carried away."

"Are you certain?"

"I am."

Tykota knew Mangas was never wrong when
it came to tracking. "I must go after her."

"That is what Sinica wants you to do."

"Yes."

"He will be expecting you."

Tykota nodded.

"They will be ready for you."

Tykota swung onto his horse. "I want you to
go back to the house and tell my mother what
has happened, then see if you can find Cochise.
He might be our only hope. He must want Sinica
as much as I do."

Mangas's gaze settled on Tykota. "You send
me away because you fear we will not come
back alive."

"This is my fight. I go alone."

"I am an old man. If I die today, I have lived
many years. I have no fear of death."

"I go alone," Tykota said in a tone that brooked
no dissent. "They will be expecting me to bring
many men with me. I will have a better chance to
surprise them ifI am alone. Go, Mangas."