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I tried to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other as I had done once, so long ago. I carried only a water canteen, and as much beef jerky as I could carry, stuffed into the pocket of my shirt. Lucas carried a rifle, two handguns and bandoliers crossed over his chest with all the ammunition he could find. I took comfort from the fact that we were together.
Even if… I found myself thinking, even if the worst happens, I wouldn’t care. We love each other. And yet, even the thought of death seemed unreal. I could not imagine dying, I would not think of the possibility that we might be trapped after all.
I cannot recall how many miles we had covered before we rested, and this, I know, only because of me. Every breath I took seemed to rasp in my throat, and in spite of the coldness of the night I was soaked with sweat. Lucas put his arm around my waist and made me lean against him, while my breathing slowed.
“Where…”
He seemed to know what I had been going to ask.
“Fort Thorn. It’s the closest now, an’ the one place they won’t expect us to be headed for. An’ you’ll be safe. Make sure you get the colonel there to send off a telegraph to Fort Selden.” Lucas cut himself off to swear softly and bitterly. “Damn! That’s somethin’ I didn’t think off. The telegraph. That’s how he got the cavalry from Fort McCrae out lookin’ for us too. Now if only they sent a message on to Colonel Poynter at Selden…”
“You mean that he might come out to look for us as well? Oh, Lucas!”
“Ro, don’t hope too hard. Fort Thorn’s still the closest. But if I can get you there safely…”
“And you? I’m not going anywhere without you! And how do you know it’ll be safe for you?”
“Stop arguin’ and start walking.” He wouldn’t answer me, and soon afterward I had almost lost my breath again, and time seemed unending and meaningless.
It seemed impossible that the sun could be rising again, turning the sky faintly pink. Had we really walked all night?
In the shelter of a nest of boulders I waited, conscious only of the relief I felt to be resting again. Leaving one of the handguns with me, Lucas had taken the field glasses and disappeared. I think that in spite of all my resolutions I must have dozed off through sheer exhaustion, for the next thing I knew was that I was being shaken awake.
“Ro? Are you all right?”
“Yes.” I heard myself mumble, and then I was being pulled to my feet again, and I had barely time to wonder why Lucas looked so strange when he told me, his husky voice dispassionate.
“I couldn’t see how close or how far away your husband is. My guess is he an’ his men are right behind us—in the mountains already. But you got friends comin’ to the rescue from the direction of Fort Thorn. Todd Shannon… wonder what in hell he was doing there?”
“Todd?” I couldn’t keep the dismay from my voice. I looked up at Lucas, and he was staring down at me through narrowed, thoughtful eyes.
“Lucas—what are we going to do?”
“Fort Thorn’s still the safest place for you. An’ for all that I hate Shannon’s guts, I doubt if he’ll shoot you down in cold blood. So—we’re still goin’ south.”
“It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t…” Almost unwillingly, his arms went around me. “It’s no one’s fault. Or mine, for not seeing earlier that I’d come to need you. Rowena… crazy name. Crazy woman…”
I had the terrible, horrifying feeling that we were saying good-bye as our lips met. I suppose we wasted precious time as we held each other closely, bodies molding together. How can I remember now what thoughts went through my head, if, indeed, I was capable of coherent thought by then? What I remember most vividly is exactly what I do not care to recall—a nightmare without end.
I remember too that I would not do as I was told, so that what happened later was my fault, my guilt to bear.
The mountains were no longer a haven and a refuge but danger, because of the cover they gave to those who followed too closely behind us. And if I had not been along, as a liability and a burden, that Lucas could have escaped them all. But he had accepted me, and taken me as his woman, in much the same way that an Apache warrior would take a wife. And having taken the responsibility for me, Lucas also accepted the risks.
I want to digress here—if only to postpone the inevitable. I want to tell of what I did not know then but know now.
Todd Shannon had been supposed to meet Mr. Bragg at Fort Selden, but as luck would have it, he was still at Fort Thorn, being entertained in style by the commanding officer there, when the telegraph message had arrived.
And at Fort Selden, which was much further off, the same message had also been received, but with very different reactions from Colonel Poynter and Mr. Bragg. They had set out too, but several hours behind the rest. And closest of all was the man that I had chosen to be my husband—or who had chosen me. I had never felt closer to the Apache, whose very name meant “enemy,” than I did then. I was with my lover, my man, and I would not leave him. I would die with him if I had to, but I would not be separated from him again.
I didn’t try to explain these emotions to myself, nor to Lucas either. But when the shooting started, and we were in a place sheltered on three sides but not from behind, I disregarded Lucas’s angry order that I should stay beside him until there was a lull in the firing, and he could send me down to whatever safety I could find with Todd Shannon and his Texan gunslingers.
I said very calmly, “If we’re going to die, Lucas, then we’ll die together. Did you really imagine that I would agree to leave you?”
I took one of the handguns and a cartridge belt, and crawled up the unprotected slope at our back. I suppose now, looking back, that the first man I encountered, hearing the shots, had not imagined he would meet anyone as he crept silently up from the rear. But he met me, and I shot him, without pausing to think, and all I remember now is the surprised look on his face as he tumbled backwards among the rocks.
“Ro—come back here, damn you!”
I heard Lucas call to me, and I must have turned my head. The next thing I knew an arm had clamped around my waist, and a voice, gloatingly triumphant, said: “Better throw down that gun, Cord, or she gets a hole blown in her pretty body.” And at just about the same time I heard Mark’s voice, with a cold ugliness to it I had never noticed before.
