Comanche Haven (The Loflin Legacy: Book 1) Page 11
“I’m pleased you enjoyed it dear.” Smiling broadly, Maggie began to remove sheets from the bed.
Feeling stronger than she had in days, Celia considered broaching the unpopular subject of leaving. “Maggie, I can’t stay here. You understand that, don’t you?” Before Maggie could protest, Celia continued, “My being here puts all your lives in danger.”
Maggie simply frowned.
“I need to get to town and make arrangements to…to what?” Celia mused as she rose from the little table and edged closer to the fire. She had no place to go. Maybe she could get a room at the hotel. But she had no money. She’d get a job. But who was going to hire a half-breed in a Texas town? With considerably less bravado than she’d possessed moments before, Celia looked at Maggie again. “Could you…”
Maggie cut her off with a stern wave of her hand. “You don’t worry your pretty head about such things this fine morning. What you need to concern yourself with at the present is getting back on your feet. It won’t matter to anyone where you are now. You’re in no shape to travel.” She stepped around the bed as after flinging the sheet out and tucking in one corner.
Her stern words were like the tools she used in settling the matter, Celia decided.
“And besides, even if you weren’t here, the Comanche are still going to suspect the boys of being the ones who did it.”
Slowly Maggie rose to stand. Her eyes skittered to Celia briefly and then away again. Smoothing the front of her apron in a telling gesture, Maggie hurried over to the small table, scooping up the tray before heading for the door. “You’re gonna want to see a bit of the spread today, I’d imagine.” She made the comment as if they’d been discussing nothing more than the weather. Pausing just inside the door, she cut Celia a keen eye. “Besides, the fresh air will do you good.”
Waving a hand toward the large clothing cabinet in the corner of the room, Maggie sent Celia a slightly flustered look. “You’ll find riding clothes in the armoire.” When Celia only blinked, Maggie continued. “Well, go on and get about it now. Jake will be by directly.” With another wave of her hand to spur Celia into action, Maggie scurried from the room.
Celia listened to Maggie’s footsteps clicking down the hallway as her words replayed in her mind. The Comanche were a proud people. Naturally, revenge followed, she mused. Her father’s other nephew, Red Bear, hadn’t been among the dead. If he were still alive, Celia felt sure he would come seeking revenge. The facts were simple. Lone Eagle had made camp on Shooter Creek land. Logically, it meant Red Bear would come looking for retribution from those who owned Shooter Creek land. He would be looking for Seth, Ty, and all the others.
Could Red Bear be lurking here now? Could he be watching? Was he waiting for the right time to make his attack? A sliver of fear shot up Celia’s backbone.
Opening the doors to the armoire, Celia began to rummage through its contents. Maggie said to make use of the clothing she found in the beautiful wooden cabinet. If she had to be beholden to the Loflins’ for their hospitality awhile longer, she guessed she’d have to add whatever she wore from the large clothing cabinet to her list of debts. In a strange twist of fate, she’d been spared a terrible death. Of that, she was sure. Remembering her words to Seth about finding those responsible and bring them to justice, Celia knew any plans to leave would have to wait.
With her presence at Shooter Creek, everyone on the ranch was in danger. The Comanche possessed no mercy. Staring into the cabinet as her hands stilled, Celia felt the cool tingling of fear creep up her spine once more. She managed to force down the tentacles of anxiety, which wanted to dig in. She was reminded of how much she owed these people, and of how much they’d helped her in the past. Glancing down at her hands, which were none too steady now, Celia took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Calling on her inner spirit for control, Celia released the breath she’d been holding and strived for focus. At the feet of her grandmother, Silver Fox, Celia had learned the art of focus. She’d been an excellent student and had even incorporated the technique many times as a surgical assistant. Panic only scattered one’s thoughts, causing havoc and impotence. Willing the pain away, Celia opened her eyes. First things first, she chided herself and chose a suit to go riding in.
***
Jake appeared at the back door leading to the kitchen not long after Maggie returned. Celia had just arrived and was helping herself to another cup of coffee. Celia looked up as her old friend snatched his Stetson from his head and smoothed his thinning hair. Probably because he was ever mindful of Maggie’s instructions, he made a noisy production of wiping his feet on the worn stoop mat before entering the house. “Morning, Maggie, got any coffee left? Hello, Miss Celia,” he said chipper as a lark.
His well-practiced manners as well as his greeting went unnoticed by Maggie, who bent over a pan scrapping out scrapes from the breakfast dishes.
Celia stepped forward and reaching out, gave Jake a warm hug. “It’s so good to see you, Jake.” Her eyes misted as she peered at him.
“Well, it’s good to see you too, Miss Celia.” Holding her at arm’s length, he absorbed the woman she’d become. “You’re a vision.”
Celia had to admit she felt better than she had in days and smiled warmly at him. “You always could charm the ladies, Jake.”
Jake looked mildly shocked. “I meant every word.”
“There now, she looks like a proper young lady this morning, don’t she, Jake?” Maggie said as she brought Jake a cup of coffee.
Jake blinked. “Yes, yes she does.” Brushing a kiss along her cheek before stepping back, Jake pulled out a chair and folded his long form into it. “Do we have time to site and enjoy a cup of coffee?”
“Sure do.” Celia noted his effort was slightly stiff. The years had been kind to him, his blue eyes were a bit faded but still keen and his habitual vest was still smooth leather and buttoned with brass buttons. The jaunty feather he stuck in his hat brim was from the latest turkey he’d bagged. Celia didn’t have to ask, because he always had a turkey feather in his hat brim and he’d always bagged a turkey recently when she’d asked. Celia had to smile at the thought. Had it really been almost twelve years? His sandy blonde hair was going grey now and he still walked with a bowlegged stroll but now he moved a bit rigidly.
“How are you?” Jake appeared nervous over what to say. ”I’m fine. The trip was long and …” She hesitated when the events of the last few days came to mind.
Jake laid his big, lean hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Sure am sorry to hear about your Pa, Miss Celia.”
Nodding, Celia tried to smile. The tears, which threatened to fall would do no good. She sniffed and straightened in the high-backed chair. “Thank you, Jake. To get out and see the place would mean a lot to me.”
“You know, I heard the men talking ‘bout the pretty young thing Seth brought home with him yesterday. He’s gonna have his hands full trying to keep them all in line. You’re gonna have heads turning from here to Fort Worth.” Jake gave her his best lopsided smile to go with the teasing.
“That’s the kind of complement a girl likes to hear, Jake.” Reaching out she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he reddened slightly before becoming all business again. “Miss Celia, I stopped by to see if you’d like to ride with me this morning and see the spread.”
“Yes, I would enjoy the ride very much.” Looking over at Maggie, she continued, “Maggie, thank you for a wonderful breakfast. It was delicious. You’ll have me fattened up in no time, I’m sure.”
Maggie beamed. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it, child. The boys have gone into Tyler to inform the Sheriff of what’s happened, so I asked Jake to show you around a bit. Now run along and enjoy the ride.” The housekeeper waved her hand at the basket sitting on the counter. “I packed you a lunch. You’ll be a long way from the ranch house by then,” she stated firmly. “Have a good time.”
***
Celi
a considered Maggie’s reference to the distance an exaggeration, but as the morning progressed, she began to see her mistake in judgment. She thought she understood how vast an area the ranch covered, but she soon discovered how wrong she’d been. By lunchtime it occurred to her, they must be near the Oklahoma territory, but Jake assured her they still hadn’t seen a third of the spread. The sheer number of animals grazing on the land was more than she could comprehend. “All these steers belong to the ranch?” she finally asked Jake.
“Yes, ma’am, Shooter Creek has over four thousand head of cattle in this year’s herd. This year’s calving has added another seven hundred to date. If all goes well, we’ll see two-thirds of them raised off.”
They came to a bluff overlooking a shallow valley and rested the horses. Jake settled his hands on the saddle horn.
Celia noted the pride in his weathered features as he shaded his eyes and took in the panoramic view. “Raised off?” she asked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the ones who grow to maturity. We’re bound to lose some to natural predators like the coyote and the cougar. They roam these hills and when the cattle graze too close, the calves are always easy pickens. Now we have to worry about the Indians who take from the herd as well.” He coughed suddenly as he realized, too late, he’d stuck his foot in his mouth. Jake’s color heightened as he eyes skittered from hers.
Meaning to comfort him, as well as put his statement in prospective for them both, Celia spoke up. “It’s all right, Jake.” She smiled sympathetically in an attempt to ease his discomfort. “I understand my people have put the ranchers in the position of defending their livelihoods. I only wish there was something I could do to help.” She glanced out at the cattle grazing in the shallow range below. Something gleamed and caught her eyes from the hill across the range. It moved.
Was it a rifle? Looking closer, she spotted a rider. There was a lone figure on horseback with a crimson sash about his bare bronze waist. Red Bear! A faint gasp escaped her as she recognized her cousin. Realizing she’d unconsciously stood up in the stirrups to get a better look, she tried to recover without raising suspicion. She saw no others with him and watched a moment longer as he maneuvered his horse back in the direction he’d come before disappearing into the pines.
Her cousin was alive! Red Bear was alive and well and here! She knew he’d seen them. What was he doing here? Working hard to quell the nerves, which had her wanting to bolt after him, Celia yanked on her horse’s reins. “Jake, I think I want to turn around now. I’m really tired and the sun is a bit too much.” Steering the roan back in the direction they had come, she glanced nervously back for Jake.
“Sure thing, Miss Celia.” Jake peered up in the sky. “The sun’s beatin’ down a mite fierce for sure.” With nothing more than the tip of his hat, they were leaving the hill and retracing their tracks.
Celia breathed a sigh of relief when they finally arrived at the barn. One of the hands took Celia’s roan as she slid from the mare’s back. Briefly thanking Jake, she darted for the house and had to remind herself to slow her pace or Jake would think it suspicious. Surprised but grateful Maggie wasn’t around, Celia slipped down the hall and entered her room, locking the door behind her.
Her thoughts, jumbled and errant, needed sorting. She knew now at least Red Bear was alive. Her concerns mounted though as she considered what he meant to do. She had to talk to him - to reach him - to explain things. Maybe she could ride out and meet him. Perhaps slip out after everyone had gone to sleep. She had to find out what was going on. She had to know. Resting on the side of the bed, Celia removed her riding boots and stockings.
She hated the thought of keeping her discovery from those she considered her friends – those who’d helped her and continued to do so. But, what she was about to do had to remain a secret, Celia mused, at least for the moment. She vowed she would tell Seth and the others when she found out what Red Bear’s intentions were. Concern for her cousin as well as concern for Seth and the ranch weighed heavy on her mind. Then there was the guilt. Seth would be so mad. She simply wouldn’t think about that. She couldn’t. Celia began to devise a plan.
Deciding to slip out after dark to find her cousin, she got up and removed her riding habit. Placing it where she could get to it easily when it was time, Celia lay across the bed and told herself she would sleep only a little while. She prayed for a clear night and a bright moon. Since Maggie had already brought a light meal and left it with her, she was alone for a while. Celia closed her eyes and told herself she would rest until dusk. Exhaustion had other plans and when she awoke, it was late.
The moon was high in the night sky. Dressing quickly, she tiptoed to her door. With it slightly ajar, she surveyed the hall. All seemed clear. With Seth in Tyler, she would have one less obstacle standing in her way as she put her plan into action. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. The pangs of guilt floating in and out of her mind did little to bolster her confidence, but she had to make sure Red Bear understood she had come willingly with the Loflins. If he considered them guilty, then he must be convinced he was mistaken.
Making it out to the barn, she coaxed out the roan she’d rode earlier the same day. She crouched low atop the mare’s back as she’d seen her father’s braves do so many times when they wanted the enemy to see only a horse. She rode past the corral and the pens. When all seemed clear, Celia kicked the mare into a gallop heading toward the hills in the distance.
Sensing rather than knowing the direction she headed in, she finally made it to the bluff Jake and she had visited that afternoon. She dismounted and whistled using the call of the Whippoorwill. Soon the call came back and echoed on the cold night air. Before she could think about it, she was across the shallow range and waiting on her cousin to appear.
Red Bear reminded her of an apparition materializing out of the fog, which covered the ground. Slow and smooth as a panther, he appeared from the cover of the tall pines. The night winds whispering through them all but herald his arrival.
He stood six feet tall with shoulders spread wide. His muscled chest held many battle scares. His coal black hair, platted and finished in feathers, shone in the moonlight. A pain centered in her chest as she was reminded how much he looked like her father all those years before. Overcome with joy, she stepped forward to hug him.
Red Bear remained where he stood and while he encircled her in his embrace, he showed no affection. Standing stoically and simply watching her, Celia could see the cool, calculating eyes of a chief. Being a Comanche warrior left a man little room for displays of emotion, but he did give her back a pat before setting her from him to examine.
Lone Eagle was gone now and Red Bear The People’s leader. Any concern he had included his only cousin. His dark-brown eyes traveled over her from head-to-toe and settled once again on her face.
“Celia, the Great Spirit favors you.”
Celia watched her cousin. The only visible sign of his pain was in the furrow of his brow line. Pushing her further back to get a better look, Celia sensed the steel in his hold.
He remained Lone Eagles sister’s son. Lone Eagle had taken him and Broken Horse in when their father died in the raids. Celia always thought of him as an older brother. Her affection for him ran deep. Briefly, she saw it. There in his eyes was the pain he must be feeling. His mother and all the others were gone – taken by the white man. Then it morphed into cold hatred, which frightened Celia to see. Her cousin wanted blood. Understanding Red Bear’s reasons for shedding blood still didn’t mean she agreed with them.
Broken Horse had told her in his letters the younger warriors of their tribe believed Red Bear’s way was the only way to solve the increasing problem the white man forced on The People. His way was war.
“You are well?” Red Bear spoke in their native tongue.
“Yes, I am well, Red Bear.”
“Did the white man hurt or shame you?”
Celia could hear the strain in his voice. The implication of his wor
ds was clear. “No, the white man didn’t hurt me. Remember Dark Wolf?” She waited a beat as she saw a flicker of memory cross his face at the mention of his blood brother’s name. “He found me and took me home with him. He was brave and noble and cared for Broken Horse and me.” She went on to explain the difficulty they’d had and how Broken Horse was tracking the killers now.
Lowering her head, she fought the sudden tears welling in her eyes as the onslaught of memories came back in an overwhelming rush. “They’re gone,” she whispered softly. Slowly looking up into his face, she whispered again, “They’re all gone…” It was more of a statement than a question. Celia felt the pain anew.
Looking away, he did his best to hide the sudden emotion, but she saw it. When he did look back to her, he was the warrior chief once more.
“You will be glad to know we have joined with tribes from further west. Many come to a place called Antelope Hill. It’s near the reservation the white man forces on our people.” The hatred flashed in his eyes. His pupils seemed to glow with it in the light of the moon. “We will make war on those whites who follow us. We won’t give up our way of life to the white man. We will fight to the death.”
“To the death…” Celia repeated Red Bear’s words aloud. A dull ache settled in her heart. He spoke of revenge “We?” she latched on. “You said the word ‘we!’ Are others still alive? Who? How many made it? Are they all right? Do they need attention?”
The hard lines around his mouth softened into a brief smile, which never reached his eyes. “Twelve of us were hunting when they attacked.” He quieted once again and glanced off into the trees as if trying to regain his composure. “We came back to find the camp destroyed. The People were dead. Someone had buried them all.”
Again, the pain in Red Bear’s voice made Celia’s heart ache. She nodded before explaining. “Dark Wolf helped me bury them.”