This Savage Heart (26 page)

Raising her head ever so slightly, she saw gentle wisps of gray smoke rising in the distance. Creeping along, darting between the bushes, she moved toward the smoke. After a while, she reached a ridge and knelt behind a clump of brush, looking out, her heart skipping wildly. Below, in a wide, flat gulley rimmed by rocks and ridges, was the Apache camp. Tepees held by tall poles dotted the ground, their sides pulled out and stretched by stakes. Squaws, hair falling down their backs, wearing buckskin dresses, hovered near small cooking fires. The air was filled with the thick scent of cooking meat as they prepared the morning meal. Children ran, shouting in the early chill. Men, dressed in breechclouts, moved about, preparing for their day.

Where was the lone white man among all those copper-skinned ones? She clenched her fists. Tension, the smell of cooking food, her own hunger, all combined to make her feel horribly ill.

The sun rose higher, singeing the earth. The heat was torture, but she crouched there, rigid, camouflaged by the brush. She couldn’t go down into the camp. She could only hope for a glimpse of Derek, to know where he was—and be certain he was still there at all.

A movement to her right made her turn quickly, and she drew her body into a tight ball, cringing at the sight of an ugly brown and yellow lizard. It was ominous, repulsive, and she slowly closed her fingers around a large rock and threw it, missing him but sending him scurrying away.

Just then, she felt a sting on her leg. A small many-legged creature had bitten her, and she brushed him away with a sharp gasp of pain. Blinking back tears, she told herself not to cry, not to give in. There was nothing to do but to endure.

After an eternity the sun began to sink, and the brilliant turquoise sky became pale lavender. Then the horizon faded to blue twilight.

It was time to return to the cave. She made no attempt to leave the plateau, though, continuing to stare out into the gathering twilight, then down at the camp. Time passed. It was getting too dark to find the cave easily, and then, without being surprised, she realized she wasn’t going back to the cave, wasn’t going to retreat, not now. Now she knew where to find Derek, and though she knew Sujen would be horrified, she was going to do the only thing she could. She was going after Derek. Now.

Before she stood up, ready to climb down into the camp, she called on the memory of Teresa’s face for strength, and on the memory of Myles’s voice, and on the picture of Derek’s eyes she carried, always, in her heart. She prayed for a long time, and then she rose and left the safety of the plateau, making her way carefully down into the camp. It was getting cold, and she pulled her black cape around herself tightly, wondering fleetingly if it would hide her until she wished to be seen. She climbed down through the rocks and brush and walked toward the camp, the journey taking about half an hour, yet seeming like only a moment.

The Indians were gathered around several fires, cooking and eating. Julie counted six fires, and guessed she saw four or five people, including children, around each one. She stopped at the entrance to the camp, gathered her cape more closely against her trembling body, then stepped into the camp.

The first to see her was a heavily muscled man with shoulder-length black hair and a smooth chest. He wore only a breechclout. His eyes lit up at the sight of her, and after he had looked her over, he stepped toward her, reaching her in a few powerful strides. Julie willed herself to stand her ground, and she didn’t flinch, even when he took her arm and led her forward. She steeled herself for the astonished quiet that fell over the camp, and the ensuing eruption of shouts. She returned every stare, reminding herself to stand straight and tall. But after a while she couldn’t bear the possessive hand on her arm any more and shook it off. He scowled and reached for her again, but there was a commotion behind him and he turned around, then dropped his hand. Julie turned more slowly, knowing something had happened behind them.

As she turned, she saw awe in the faces of those around her, and when she saw the warrior they were looking at, she understood. This must be Cochise himself, for no one else could seem so entirely in command. Even the brave who had been holding her arm, so sure of himself, was subdued. The camp was utterly still. Even the children stopped talking and stood, poised, ready to hear Cochise speak.

Julie stared at Cochise. He was taller than most of the others. His shoulders were broad, and he had a deep chest. But it was his face that held her gaze. There was a special intelligence in his black eyes, not the arrogance she’d expected. His nose was large and straight, and he had a very high forehead. His black hair, which hung to his shoulders, was shiny and hung straight. Strings of beads adorned his neck. He stood as though planted there, strong thighs spread apart, hands on his hips.

Julie decided to chance communicating with him. What else could she do? “I am the white man’s woman, and I have come to take him home. You must set him free.”

She felt so foolish, knowing he didn’t understand. Sujen had told her he didn’t speak English, and she knew not a single word of Chiricahua. She threw her whole heart into the declaration, hoping desperately that he would understand the language of her eyes. She was so intent on getting through to him that she almost didn’t hear the voice behind her.

“I will translate for you, if Cochise wishes me to.”

She whirled around and saw an Apache looking at her with—what? Pity? It bewildered her. Who was he? As though he could read her mind, he said softly, “I am Dark Buffalo. I will ask Cochise if he wishes to talk with you.”

He spoke a few words to his leader and, receiving a nod, began to translate for Cochise and Julie.

In what Julie thought an amazingly gentle voice, Cochise spoke to Dark Buffalo, who told her, “Cochise says you are a goddess, as beautiful as the warm, golden sun and the cool silver moon. He asks that you tell him how you found your way to us, and why you risked your life to come here.”

“Tell him that my love for my man, your white captive, is so great that I do not fear death.”

Dark Buffalo translated, and, as he spoke, Cochise listened intently. When Dark Buffalo was finished, he turned again to look at Julie, who said hurriedly, “Tell him he must let the white captive go. He belongs with his own people, as
he
”
—
she
nodded at Cochise—“would want to live among
his
own kind.” As she finished, she kept her gaze resolutely on Cochise.

They looked at each other, the warrior and the young woman, and their eyes held each other for an eternity. Cochise spoke a few words, and Dark Buffalo waited until Cochise nodded before translating.

“Cochise decrees,” he said slowly, “that your man has a right to claim you because of your love for him. But, when you came here, you were claimed by one of us.”

The man who had held her arm so possessively grunted, and she knew it was he Dark Buffalo meant.

“Storm Face also has a right to claim you, and this means there must be a settling of claims. This will be done according to our law—the two men will fight until one is dead and the other remains to take you for his own. If Storm Face is the victor, you must remain here and serve him as his woman.”

She felt the warrior’s eyes on her back and shuddered, but she refused to turn and look at him.

“But,” Dark Buffalo went on, “if your man wins, then you both will go free. It has been decided by Cochise.”

At that moment, a tall man emerged from a tent on the far side of the camp. He was unsteady on his feet, but there was no mistaking the one she loved above everything on earth. “Derek!” she cried. He looked at her, registered nothing, then disappeared back into the tent.

He didn’t know her! If he didn’t, then all Sujen had said must be true. Every nerve directed her to Derek; every bit of strength she had impelled her toward his tent. But he
was
drugged or he’d have known her. And if he was drugged, then she had to deal with Cochise before she could go to her love.

She turned again to the leader and said, “It’s not fair! He’s been drugged, and he’s not able to fight. Can this be Apache law? To let a strong man fight a sickened one? Is that Apache honor?”

Dark Buffalo, obviously taken aback, was hesitant about saying such things to Cochise, but Julie cried, “Tell him! Ask him if this is Apache honor!”

Slowly, carefully, Dark Buffalo spoke to Cochise. The great warrior looked at Julie appraisingly, nodded to her with a look that held respect, and bade Dark Buffalo tell her what he replied.

“Your…the man will be given no more peyote. By morning he will be himself. Cochise wishes you to know that we have honor in all our laws—even when it doesn’t seem so to your people. And he bids me say that your people have not been…truthful, or honest…with us.”

Julie nodded. She could hardly dispute that. She knew, too, that there was no hope of persuading Cochise to change his mind. He was leaving, disappearing into the shadows. The others began to move away as well. Storm Face shot one blazing look at Julie, and then he went into his tepee. There was no one left but Dark Buffalo and Julie. He was looking at her with the look he’d had all along. Was it pity? She couldn’t decide. He said quietly, “I could not say this while Storm Face was near. Cochise says you may remain in your man’s tent until morning.”

She was too stunned to reply, and he left her standing alone in the clearing, walking swiftly to his tent.

Somehow, going to Derek was going to be harder than all the rest. She had mourned for him, longed for him, risked herself to get to him. But now that she was only a few steps away from him, she couldn’t move. Knowing he didn’t recognize her made it impossible to approach him. What if his eyes were blank when he saw her? What if he wouldn’t let her touch him? What if he ignored her? She wouldn’t be able to stand it.

But she had to stand it. She had to force herself across the clearing, make herself approach the tent, and confront Derek. She had to. Slowly, every step an agony, she went to the tent and called softly, “Derek? It’s Julie.”

He came outside, as shaky as he’d been when she first saw him. But there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, just a flicker. It was enough.

“Derek, I’m coming inside to spend the night. All right?” She made her voice steady and, without waiting for an answer, stepped inside. He followed her.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The tent was small, nestled beneath a craggy overhang, apart from the camp, as indeed the man who lived here was a being apart. She stood inside the tent and stared up at him.

“I love you,” she whispered. “God knows how much I love you, Derek.”

Derek squinted, trying to fathom her by staring hard at her. The drums in his brain were not quite so harsh. Colors were not as vibrant, but he could see more clearly. She was glorious. She was beautiful.

They stood staring at each other, the woman devouring the man’s face and the man looking more and more weary, as though he was trying too hard to remember something, something that remained beyond his grasp. When he couldn’t recall whatever it was and was tired of trying, he lay down on a pile of buffalo hides and went to sleep. Julie sat next to him, as near as she dared, keeping watch over him as he slept. It was cold, and she pulled her cape closer and covered herself with a buffalo hide, but she didn’t lie down. She stayed next to him, her eyes never leaving him, watching him breathe and wondering what his dreams were about.

The night wore on, but Julie couldn’t let herself sleep. It was as though she had to force him back to himself, using all her will to battle the drug.

She thought about Myles and prayed he was alive. She wept for Teresa. She wept for the baby with Adam and Elisa.

Derek stirred, and she snuggled close against him. He awoke. Darkness clothed them. Julie felt his warm breath on her, and soon his lips found hers. She yielded to him, and their bodies came together, rocking softly, then building to a wild crescendo.

“I love you, Derek,” Julie breathed against his neck as, afterward, he held her close to him. “I love you with all my heart, and I always will.”

It seemed so right to be lying close, whispering love words, that it took her a while to hear him.

“Misty eyes,” he whispered.

She sat up abruptly. “Derek! You… You know me?”

He shook himself. He still couldn’t think very well, but there was so much that she had brought back to him. It flooded his mind, images and feelings rushing through him.

“Julie,” he said. “Julie.”

She hugged him as hard as she could. “Yes, my love, yes. It’s me, and we’re together, and we’re going to live. We’re going to live! Oh, Derek, Derek, I love you so.”

Suddenly, he pulled away from her, hastily throwing her cape over her body. He covered himself with one of the hides.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Dark Buffalo,” a voice whispered, and she hastily pulled one of the buffalo skins around her, over the cape. He stepped inside and looked first at Julie and then at Derek.

“I cannot help you very much, but I wanted you to know that you have my heart.”

“Your heart!” Julie echoed. “Derek can’t defend himself, and you expect us to welcome your sympathy?”

Dark Buffalo whispered, “There is something I can do.”

Julie reached out to clutch his arm in desperation. “Anything! Do anything. Just help us, please! There’s so little time.”