To Tame A Texan (26 page)

“I wasn't asking or expecting anything,” she said, now on the defense.

“I know that. Most girls spend all their spare time tryin' to catch a husband, but I reckon with all your women's rights stuff, you ain't got time for marriage anyhow.”

“You think I'd marry you?” She was indignant. “Just because you had your big paw down my shirt?”

His rugged face turned scarlet with embarrassment. “I said I was outta line, and I'm sorry.” He backed away. “But I wanted you to know that marriage ain't in my plans for a long, long time. . . .”

“Mine either.” She was so angry, she wanted to hit him; to pound on that big, wide chest and slap that handsome face until his ears rang.

“Well, then, I reckon we're even. Now, you don't tempt me the rest of this trip, and—”

“Tempt you?” Her voice rose. “Of all the conceited ... Listen, cowboy, you're not what I had in mind at all. When I marry, I want a civilized man; a sophisticate who plans to travel farther than El Paso or Wichita.”

“You know I don't know the meanin' of them big words. You think your tame lapdog of a dude would have come out and fought that river for you?”

“I reckon not,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Gal, you don't tame a Texan. At least, it ain't likely to happen—especially to me.”

“You're a savage brute,” she snapped back.

“And most women seem to like me that way.” With that, he turned on his heel and made tracks back to the campfire.

Lynnie stared after him. Ace Durango, swaggering Texas cowboy; everything she didn't want in a mate—and yet, it had felt good to be in his arms, protected and loved.

Loved?
She snorted. Ace Durango's idea of love cost about two dollars at places with names like the Lace Garter or Miss Fancy's Pleasure Palace. Of course, she was well aware that most of the time, wanton girls would be happy to bed him for free. She wondered if he was good at it.
What am I thinking?
Lynnie's face flamed at the images that came to mind. No, once they hit Dodge, Ace and the boys wouldn't think she was pretty or special anymore, and Lynnie would be right back where she'd always been; in her beautiful sister's shadow and compensating by leading women's rights movements.

So to hell with him. She finished drying her hair and sought her bedroll. They still had many weeks ahead of them, and Cookie had said the worst of the trip was still ahead. Could anything be worse than what they'd endured already?

 

 

They hit the road again at first light, the June dawn already hot as they started up the trail through Indian Territory. Days passed with nothing more exciting than an occasional coyote skulking around the herd. Lynnie was beginning to think that Cookie had been exaggerating and that the rest of this trip was going to be as dull as dirt.

And then one June afternoon, quite unexpectedly, they ran across a war party of Comanches.

“Uh-oh.” Ace reined in, automatically grabbed for his pistol, and realized he wasn't wearing it. The Colt, along with his Winchester, was rolled up in his bedroll on the back of his horse. He reined in and signaled the cowboys behind him to stop the herd.

Up ahead of him, a small group of warriors rode out of a thicket of wild plum bushes, watching him. They had weapons in their hands and paint on their faces.

Ace could feel the sweat breaking out between his shoulder blades, and it had nothing to do with the hot summer day. “How,” he said, and held up his hand, palm outward, to show that it was empty.

The ancient chief, brown and stoic, said nothing. He seemed to be watching the cowboys without expression. Once he might have been majestic, but now his horse was thin and his feathers and beadwork worn and ragged.

If he could dismount and reach his rifle . . . Ace dismissed the thought almost as soon as it crossed his mind, because other Indians were coming out of the brush on both sides of the trail. All the tales he'd ever heard about war parties crossed his mind, and he remembered his father telling of the Great Outbreak of '64.

The chief rode forward, accompanied by a handsome, younger brave. “You got whiskey?”

Ace shook his head. “Got tobacco,” he said slowly and distinctly. “We can eat and powwow.”

Now the old man shook his head, his face stern. “You no cross our land.”

“We'll pay,” Ace said. “We want to be fair.”

The young Indian brave sneered. “White men never fair.”

Comanch rode up just then, accompanied by Lynnie. “Boss, what's the trouble?”

The young warrior was looking Lynnie over in a way that made Ace nervous. “Lynnie, get outta sight,” Ace commanded.

“I will not.”

Oh, damn her for always wanting to argue the point. This time, it might cost her her hair or worse. Ace's mouth suddenly seemed as dry as gunpowder. “Comanch, you speak the language; palaver with them and see what you can do.”

Comanch nodded and spoke a few words of Comanche and border Spanish to the old man. Then the handsome young warrior said something, looking Lynnie over keenly.

Sweat broke out on Comanch's face. He translated. “The young buck wants the girl. He says he'll give ten fine horses for her.”

Ace cursed. “The hell, you say Tell him he can't have her. Tell him she belongs to me and there ain't enough horses in all the Territory to get her.”

Lynnie sniffed. “The very idea. You two talking about trading me like I was a piece of furniture or something.”

“Lynnie, shut up,” Ace said under his breath. “You're about to start a war here.”

Lynnie looked at Ace's strained face, then at the handsome young warrior, who was staring at her so intently, it gave her a scary feeling.

The young brave said something else, and Comanch turned back to Ace. “He says he'll up that to twenty ponies. He thinks a girl with hair like fire is pretty and good medicine.”

Thunderation. She'd always wanted men to think her pretty, but this wasn't what she had in mind at all. Lynnie glanced around and realized just how many Indians there were, watching from the brush. She had to do something. She rode up next to Ace, reached out, and patted his thigh. “Comanch, tell him I love my man much and expect to have his child. He wouldn't trade me for a hundred ponies.”

Ace grinned, his face tight with tension. “Don't tempt me, Lynnie; a few of those warriors have some mighty good horses.”

“You wouldn't dare.”

Ace turned back to Comanch. “Tell him Firehair is a real hellion and would bring much trouble to his teepee.”

Comanch relayed the message.

The young brave looked Lynnie over, smiled, and said something in his language.

Comanch said, “He says he thinks he would enjoy taming her.”

Ace shook his head. “Tell him she's a Texan. Everyone knows you can't tame a Texan.”

About that time, a very beautiful Indian girl rode out of the brush and reined her pinto pony in next to the young brave. She looked Ace over and smiled archly in a way that annoyed Lynnie. The girl said something to the young brave, and now the young brave nodded and addressed Comanch.

Ace looked the girl over. “Comanch, what is going on?”

Comanch shrugged. “Her brother is offerin' her in trade, and she's very willin'. She says she thinks the big Texan would be very pleasin'.” The young cowboy's face turned beet red.

“The very idea!” Lynnie said. “Tell her he is very pleasing, but only to me.”

“Now, Lynnie,” Ace said, grinning, “why don't you keep your nose out of this? I might be able to trade some ponies here, and she's real purty—”

“Ace Durango, are you out of your mind? What would you do with her the rest of this trip?”

The cowboys all guffawed, and Lynnie felt the flush rush to her cheeks.

Ace seemed to sigh in regret. “Comanch, tell them the Firehair is too much of a hellion, and I'm too fond of her to trade her off. Tell them we'll cut a beef out of the herd and give a feast.”

Comanch translated, and the Indians brightened. Lynnie noted how thin and tired they looked.

The old man now said in broken English and border Spanish, “We share your meat. That is good. We have nothing to offer in return. Once we were great hunters, but the whites have killed all the buffalo, and we live off the little the Indian agent gives us.”

“My father is a very powerful man,” Ace said solemnly, “as is the brother-in-law of the fire-haired one. We will see if we can get the Indian agent fired.”

The Indians passed this word around, and there were many smiles and nods as all the people relaxed.

Ace said, “Boys, let's camp here tonight, and Cookie, bring out the best you got. We're throwin' a party.”

“Just so you don't feed them Daisy Buttercup,” Lynnie said.

Ace laughed as he dismounted. “Don't worry, they'd be insulted if we offered them your scrawny calf. We've got some steers that are too thin to make it all the way to Dodge.”

And so they threw a party, roasting a whole beef over a pit while Cookie made big kettles of coffee full of sugar, and pans full of biscuits. The Comanche didn't seem to notice that the biscuits were heavy. After all, as Ace pointed out softly to Lynnie, they were used to eating army hardtack and inferior flour, so Cookie's bread must taste pretty good to them.

“I heerd that!” Cookie shouted.

The Indians ate as if they were starving, and more and more of them came out of the brush. Lynnie smiled but watched the people out of the corner of her eye, knowing that if the Indians decided to rush them, the roundup crew didn't stand a chance.

Now the Comanche brought out their drums as Ace shared his tobacco around. The people looked happy and full, Lynnie thought, but the way that young brave was watching her made her very nervous indeed. In the firelight, the pretty Comanche girl stepped into the circle and began to dance to the beat of the drum. She paused in front of Ace and held out her hand. He hesitated a minute, but Comanch said, “You mustn't offend them; dance with her.”

“I reckon I can force myself to do that.” Ace grinned and stood up. The girl pulled him into the center of the fire ring, and they began to dance while the other men nodded and smiled. Lynnie did a slow burn, sneaking even farther back into the shadows. Hell, Ace didn't have to look like he was enjoying it so much. Now the other cowboys were taking turns dancing with the girl.

The handsome young brave looked at Lynnie in a way that made her think he was imagining peeling her clothes off. He said something to Ace again, and Comanch translated. “He says he's ready to up his offer, and he thinks he can handle the spirited Firehair. He says the wilder the filly, the better the mare when the right man breaks her.”

“Tell him I've got her broke well enough and I want to keep her.” Ace grinned and reached over to put his hand on her knee in a gesture of ownership.

“The very idea!” Lynnie fumed and slapped Ace's hand off her knee.

“Hush up, Lynnie; sit very close and try to appear obedient so he'll know you belong to me,” Ace muttered.

“Obedient?” She fumed. “I don't belong to anyone,” she argued, “and when women finally get their rights—”

“Would you rather belong to him?” Ace warned. “They outnumber us, or can't you count?”

The stress and warning in his tone caused her to look around and silently count warriors. “Thunderation,” she said under her breath, “we're in real trouble, aren't we?”

“So do what I tell you,” Ace ordered.

They fed the Indians and smoked and danced, then fed them some more. The hour was late, but the Comanches showed no inclination to leave the camp, and Ace wasn't certain what to do. He knew he didn't have enough men or weapons if the warriors decided to rush them. In the meantime, the pretty Comanche girl was looking at him in a way that made his blood run hot. As he stood in the shadows, she came over to him and put her lips against his ear. “Come out into the night with me,” she whispered. “I will make you very happy.”

Ace hadn't had a woman in weeks, and the image of this ripe, passionate girl naked in the moonlight roused him. Then, in his mind, he saw Lynnie's freckled face the night he had kissed her on the riverbank. He shook his head. “No can do. My woman would take a skinnin' knife to you.”

The girl turned sullen. “You should beat her.”

Beat Lynnie?
The thought of turning her over his knee was very tempting, but he couldn't even do that without a fight that would take all day. “Beatin' her wouldn't help,” he explained. “She's too much woman to be tamed.”

“Ah, you care for her, then?”

Ace considered. “Yeah,” he admitted finally, “I care for her, damned little ornery wench that she is.”

Finally, the Indians were scattering, heading for their blankets. The old chief approached Ace. “A good feast. It has been long since our bellies were full. We will not forget your promise about the Indian agent.”

“I will take care of it,” Ace said, and he meant it.

“Now I offer a good lodge for the night so you and your woman can make love in comfort,” the old man said.

“Oh, no, I . . . “Ace let his voice trail off as he looked into the old man's wrinkled brown face. How could he explain without insulting the old man? If he admitted she wasn't his woman, the young brave would be insistent on trading for her again. “Yes,” he answered, “my woman and I will be happy to use the lodge.”

He strode over to his men. “Hank, you fellows will have to keep a guard goin' tonight and watch the herd. The old man's offerin' me and Lynnie his lodge, and I can't refuse without offendin' him.”

The cowboys looked at him. “You think Lynnie McBride is gonna share a teepee with you? I'll wager she'd rather fight the Indians.”

“Thanks a lot,” Ace said, tired and surly. “Once she understands the situation, she'll do it. After all, nothin's gonna happen. I'd sooner bed a rattlesnake than try to get Lynnie McBride's drawers off.”

Comanch bristled. “You be careful what you say about Miss Lynnie. I'd take her in a heartbeat.”

“Comanch,” Ace sighed, “I keep tellin' you that you done been on the trail too long.”

“Don't I know it? That pretty Injun girl keeps lookin' at me like she's got something in mind.”

Cookie guffawed. “That little sweet brown candy worth your hair?”

“Right now, I think so.” Comanch grinned.

“You men keep a good watch,” Ace warned again, and he went off to find Lynnie.

“What?”
She was horrified as Ace tried to explain to her. “I won't do it.”

“Well, now, Miss Uppity Lady, you didn't mind crawlin' into my bedroll a while back.”

Her face colored. “That was different. Nothing happened.”

“Well, nothin's gonna happen now. Matter of fact, I might crawl out under that teepee and meet that Comanche girl.”

“You wouldn't dare.”

He shrugged, looking puzzled. “Now, just why would you care? Anyway, the only thing holdin' me back is that that young brave would crawl into the lodge the minute I was gone.”

She was scared at the thought. “Okay, what do we do now?”

“The boys are keepin' a watch till dawn. Maybe by then we can give the Comanche a few steers and move on. But tonight, I'm gonna pick you up and carry you into that lodge.”

“I got two good legs; I can walk.”

“Shut up and let me handle this.” He caught her arm, picked her up, flipped her over his shoulder, and headed for the lodge.

Lynnie began to make sputtering, outraged threats. “You put me down, you male monster, you!”

“Shut up, woman.” He slapped her lightly on the rear, and the braves laughed as he carried her across the circle toward the lodge.

Lynnie, outraged, sank her teeth into his broad back, and he smacked her on the bottom again. Then he stooped, carried her through the door of the lodge, and tossed her on a pile of buffalo robes. He rubbed his shoulder. “You're worse than a bobcat, you know that?”

“And you spanked me. The very idea. How dare you!”

“Stop it, Lynnie; you don't want to tip them off that you're not really my woman, do you?”

About that time, an old Comanche woman came through the door, smiling and offering a fine buffalo robe. Ace nodded his thanks and, as the old crone watched, grabbed Lynnie and kissed her.