eyes. Both were cold, and there was a permanent twist of dissatisfaction
about his jaw. He smiled as he looked at her, enjoying her situation,
reveling in his power and in her misery.
She swung out again and managed to connect her fist against his cheek.
He swore and secured her wrists, then started laughing as he stared at
her.
"My, my, Miss. Stuart, it is a pleasure to see you this way!"
She was barely clad, she realized. Her chemise was dusty and pulled
high, leaving her midriff bare. And her cotton petticoat was rucked up
against her knees; her legs were bare 183 beneath it. As he stared at
her she felt sick.
She could see his intentions in his eyes, and she wanted to die. Not
long ago Jamie had whispered on the breeze that he thought he was
falling in love with her. And not long ago, he had taught her what it
was to feel feminine beyond belief, to know the beauty of a mutual
yearning, a soaring passion, all the sweet and fascinating things that
should be shared between a man and a woman. Not long ago. And now this
horrible man with blood on his hands was looking at her and laughing.
"I always did want to get to know you better, Tess!" he assured her.
He lowered himself against her. She twisted wildly, hating the feel of
his greased flesh, despising him. He tried to find her lips. She twisted
and thrashed and screamed, and still she felt him touching her.
"That's all right!" he hissed against her cheek.
"It's all right.
You'll come to like it soon enough. I'm real good. I'm real, real good.
I'll have you screaming in a way you just ain't imagined yet, honey. And
later on, you'll be grateful.
"Cause you're going to Nalte, one of the chiefs of the Mescalero Apache.
He's wanted a blond woman like you for a long time. They say he tried a
few raids to acquire one, but he kept coming up with brunettes. Our
Comanchero friends promised him a beautiful young blond white woman.
Nalte is tough, Miss. Stuart. You'll be real glad that I initiated you
into this ..."
He tried to secure both her wrists with one hand while he spoke. Tess
fought him like a wildcat, delaying his purpose but losing her strength
quickly.
Nalte? An Apache? Then the Comancheros were the delivery men. Von Heusen
was dealing with the Comancheros, and the Comancheros were dealing with
the Apache. She would be safe from the Comancheros. Because she was
meant for the Apache!
But she wasn't safe from David. She sobbed as she fought to free her
wrists. She threw his weight from her hips, but he seemed to enjoy
feeling her move against him. She twisted and sank her teeth into his
fingers.
He shouted out in pain and sat hard on her, plunging his fingers into
his mouth and stating at her murderously. Then his palm connected
sharply with her cheek, and the world seemed to spin. His hands were
upon her, upon her breasts, tugging at her petticoats.
"No!" she screamed in desperation and horror. But there was no one to
help her out here. Jamie was by the river, dead. The vultures might well
find his body before anyone else could.
David's hands were upon her, and he was tugging on her clothes. He was
about to violate the only beauty she had ever really dared to reach out
and hold.
"Get off her!" someone suddenly roared. And David was plucked away from
her.
Tess crawled quickly backward on her elbows. Her heart soared as she saw
that David and Jeremiah were involved in a fistfight with one another.
David was swinging and screaming at the same time.
"What the hell's the matter with you, Jeremiah? You can have your damned
turn when I'm done" -- "No! Von Heusen said no! He promised the chief an
in- noeent woman " -- "What do you think she was doing by the river with
Slater?"
"I don't know anything! I saw the girl washing her face, and I saw
Slater going for a swim. That's all I saw. Von Heusen promised the
Comancheros an innocent. And he made us swear not to touch her. I'm not
getting my balls shot off for your entertainment, and that's a damned
fact."
"I give the orders here" -- "Von Heusen gives the orders here!"
Tess realized that she was just staring at them. They were fighting like
madmen and not paying the least bit of at ten- 185 finn to her, and she
was just staring at them. She rolled over and stumbled to her feet. It
was time to start running again, before David convinced Jeremiah that
she was no innocent and that no one would ever know if the two of them
used her, too.
She hadn't gone three steps before fingers laced into her hair, dragging
her back. She gasped and sobbed, swinging and flailing out, but she was
so exhausted, and in so much pain, that she knew that no matter what her
will, she could not fight much longer.
"Stop it! Stop it! Come on, Miss. Stuart, calm down, and make the night
easier on all of us! I won't touch you, and he won't touch you, you
understand? Just calm down." It was Jeremiah who held her. He was as
young as David, she decided. He had lanky blond hair and colorless blue
eyes, but they didn't yet hold that absolute cold, cruel streak that
touched David's.
He almost smiled.
"I'm going to get you something to wear. Then I'm going to tie you up. I
have to. But I'll get you water, too, and something to eat. We're not
going to touch you."
"Speak for yourself!" David snarled from a few steps away.
"We're not going to touch her?" Jeremiah snapped. "We're going to turn
her over to the Comancheres, just like we promised yon Heusen."
Tess didn't know who would win out. Jeremiah kept a firm grip upon her
arm and pulled her along. She saw that there was a third horse on the
trail, and that a number of rolled packs were tied on the animal's back.
Jeremiah kept one hand and one eye on her as he tugged at the bundles to
free them.
When they fell to the ground, he pulled her down with him to dig into
one.
"Here," he said roughly.
"Take this. And get into it. But if you try anything funny, I'll turn my
back and close my ears and David can do whatever the hell he wants.
Understand?"
She understood. She hadn't the strength to fight them. She needed some
sleep. She needed a little time to think and plan.
She snatched the clothing Jeremiah handed her. Apache, she thought.
There were fine, soft trousers and a traditional blouse of buckskin with
beadwork and tin cone pendants. She slipped into the bushes with the
garments.
"You stay where I can hear you!" Jeremiah called. "I'm here!" she
replied.
The buckskin garments concealed much more than the tattered remnants of
her clothes had. She couldn't believe she could be grateful to Jeremiah
for anything, but she was glad of the clothing. If--not if, when! --she
found her opportunity to escape, she would be much better able to
weather the elements.
"You still there?" Jeremiah demanded.
Tess tossed her torn undergarments into the bushes and stepped 'out in
the Apache attire.
"She should have had a skirt. No warrior trousers," David commented.
"She couldn't ride in a skirt," Jeremiah retorted. Tess stood quietly.
Jeremiah was the one to work on, she thought. He seemed to have a few
human qualities left. She lowered her eyes and stood still.
"Miss. Stuart, you come over here and let me tie your hands," he said.
She didn't move.
"Please ..." she murmured softly. "Well ..." Jeremiah began.
"Well, nothing! She's taking you strictly for a fool, that's what she's
doing!" David strode over angrily and snatched the rope from Jeremiah's