Sixteen
“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.
The old woman giggled behind her hand and crept out.
“Don’t fight me, Lynnie; she might come in again,” he said against her lips, and continued to kiss her.
“You can stop now; she’s gone.” Lynnie pulled away and wiped her mouth.
“Oh, hush, woman. She might come back.” He pressed her down against the buffalo robe, his mouth claiming hers, his lips urging hers to open.
Then his tongue licked along her lips in a way that made her breathe hard. “I—I reckon we have to make this look good,” she gasped.
“I reckon we do,” he said against her mouth, and he was gasping for air, too.
She knew she ought to move away from him, but his hand was stroking the front of her shirt, and somehow, it felt too good to stop him.
He shuddered and pulled back, rose up on one elbow, and looked down at her, breathing hard. “You know, Lynnie, you really are very pretty.”
“Have you gone loco?” She wasn’t quite sure what to say next; his eyes were intense as he stared down at her.
With a sigh, he lay down next to her. Outside, they could hear the drums beating as the others continued to dance. She was more afraid than she wanted to admit, and she snuggled up against Ace’s big, brawny form.
“Lynnie, I wish you wouldn’t do that.”
“Why not?” She cuddled even closer.
“Young’un, you don’t know a damned thing about men. You don’t crawl all over a man and then go peacefully to sleep.” He seemed tense against her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she protested. “Besides, I’m not crawling all over you.”
“If you weren’t so damned innocent. . . . “He rose up on one elbow and kissed her in a hot, hurried manner that made her catch her breath as his hand fumbled with the top button of her shirt.
She knew she ought to stop him, but her heart seemed to be pounding as hard as his. She opened her lips. His warm tongue caressed the inside of her mouth, and Lynnie took a deep breath as Ace expertly unbuttoned her shirt. She knew she should protest, but his hand inside her shirt felt too good to end it. Ace’s grammar might not be good, but he knew how to please a woman.
Now his fingers stroked her breast until the pink rosebud of a nipple came up hard and firm. He made a sound low in his throat, and then his mouth found her breast and she gasped at the sensation. She hadn’t realized a man’s mouth could feel so warm, so wet, so good. Without meaning to, she arched herself against him, taking his dark head in her two hands, guiding him to her other breast.
“Oh, Lynnie,” he whispered, “oh, Lynnie, I had no idea you could make me want you like this.”
Her breasts were pale in the moonlight as his hands tugged at her pants.
She felt his hand under the waistband, under her drawers and stroking down her belly. Lynnie gasped. “You—you shouldn’t be doing that.”
“You’re right; I shouldn’t.”
“I ought to make you stop.”
“Just say the word.” He looked up from kissing her belly. “If you don’t like it . . .”
“I—I like it just fine.” She caught his head between her hands and brought his face up to kiss her. His mouth was hot, and she could feel his pulse pounding as hard as hers did. She wasn’t sure what it was she wanted, but Ace had done this a thousand times; he would know what to do. Then she hated all the girls he had done it with.
He took her hand and put it on his crotch. Through the denim, she could feel the hard, throbbing maleness of him. “Ace, I—I’ve never done this before; I don’t know what to do next.”
He sat up suddenly, cursing. “Lordy, I must be loco to be doin’ this. I’m sorry, Lynnie; I got carried away.”
She sighed with disappointment. “Does that mean you’re stopping? I really liked that.”
He frowned at her. “A nice, respectable girl shouldn’t tell a man that.”
“Well, why not?” She was annoyed with him for interrupting those wonderful, exciting sensations. “I was just being honest.”
“If I weren’t a Texas gentleman, I’d have your drawers off by now.” He fumbled in his pocket for a smoke.
“Gentleman? You?” She snorted. Then she felt a deep sadness. “It’s because I’m not pretty enough, isn’t it?”
He looked at her, seeming to study every line of her face in the dim light. “Lynnie, I never thought I would say this, but I think you’re beautiful.”
She shrugged “You’re just trying to spare my feelings.”
“Don’t tempt me, missy,” he snapped as he rolled a cigarette with a shaking hand. “I never wanted to take a woman as bad as I want you tonight.”
“Really?” She brightened.
“Damn it, really. Now go to sleep.” He lit his smoke.
“What are you going to do?”
“Not sleep,” he grumbled. “Not after what you’ve just put me through.”
She looked up at him innocently, puzzled. “Me? I didn’t do anything.”
“Like hell you didn’t,” he growled. “Now hush up and go to sleep. I’ll stand guard.”
She started to protest that he had no right to tell her to hush up, but judging from his annoyed face, she decided not to push her luck. She felt safe with Ace Durango on guard, even though they were surrounded by Comanches. She laid her face against his leg. As she dozed, she felt his big hand stroking her hair, and it was comforting.
“Ace,” she whispered, shirt half open, hair askew, full lips swollen and wet from his kisses.
“Shut up,” he commanded, “and go to sleep, Lynnie, before I throw you down and do something I’ve been fightin’ since way back on the trail.”
“I’m not pretty,” she said.
“The hell you aren’t, but you’re prettier with your mouth shut. Now go to sleep.”
She started to protest again, saw the anger in his eyes, and backed off. She hadn’t realized what a thin veneer of civilization this cowboy had. Deep down, he was not much more than a savage like his Cheyenne ancestors. “All right, Ace,” she answered meekly, “whatever you say.”
He leaned back against the lodge pole with a sigh, his groin aching, and smoked. He didn’t dare look at her, afraid he might not be able to control himself He wasn’t used to going without a woman for more than a day or two, and it had been weeks. There was something different about this one, though. Lynnie wasn’t just any woman.
Ace looked over at her. She lay on the buffalo robes, her hair spread out like a red fan across the fur, her shirt half open so that he could see one of her small, perfect breasts. Right now he would have taken a front seat in hell for her to open her arms to him. What he was feeling wasn’t honorable, he knew, and it would only cause more trouble because he wasn’t the marrying kind—certainly not to a headstrong women’s-rights type like Lynnie. She probably wouldn’t have him, anyway, not if he were the last man on earth. Lynnie was too busy saving the world to get hitched up with a man she considered an uncivilized, untamed brute. Well, maybe in Dodge she’d find some pantywaist in a derby hat and flowered vest—the kind of dainty gent who could spout poetry and plant posies.
Ace chuckled at the thought. A man like that could never tame this Texas spitfire; he wasn’t sure he could do it himself, and he damned sure didn’t want to try. No, better he should stick with the rollicking tarts that danced in cantinas and expected nothing more than a good roll in the hay and a few laughs. He and Lynnie McBride were too much alike in some ways even to think of anything permanent.
Ace sat guard all night and, at the first light, shook Lynnie awake. “We’d better be movin’ on, Lynnie.”
For a moment, she seemed puzzled as she looked around, and then she seemed to remember. “You rotten . . . ! Taking advantage of me like that.”
“Nothin much happened,” he reminded her.
“How can you say that when you had my shirt open and almost my pants—”
“You were pretty cooperative,” he pointed out.
“A gentleman would not bring that up,” she sniffed, nose in the air.
“Okay, I must have been outta my mind.” He sighed. “Now let’s get a move on. The Comanche may have changed their minds this morning.”
Sure enough, when they came out, the old chief was in council with some of his warriors. The cowboys looked tense and alarmed. Ace looked at Comanch. “What is it?”
“The chief says his son still wants the firehaired woman. If he can’t trade for her, he’s willin’ to fight you for her.”
The hair rose up on the back of Ace’s neck, and he reached out and pulled Lynnie into the protection of his muscular arm. “Tell him I will give the young brave a fine horse and some beef instead,” Ace said.
Comanch spoke, and the old man shook his head. The young warrior looked Lynnie up and down in a way that left nothing to the imagination.
Ace could feel Lynnie trembling in the circle of his arm. The young warrior looked lithe and strong. Yet Ace knew what he must do, what any Texan who called himself a man would do. “Tell him I don’t want to fight him, but I will to protect my woman.”
Lynnie looked up at him, and he saw fear in her green eyes though she tried to hide it. “Thunderation. The very idea of men fighting over me like two stallions over a mare—”
“Hush, Lynnie,” Ace commanded. “Get over there by the chuck wagon.”
“But...”
“You heard me!” he thundered in no uncertain tones.
Meekly, for once, she obeyed. Ace nodded to Comanch. “Find out how this plays out.”
“Oh, Boss, you sure you . . . ?”
“I don’t have any choice,” Ace snapped. “I ain’t let-tin’ him have Lynnie.”
Comanch conferred with the chief and returned. “It will be hand-to-hand wrestlin’. If you beat him, the chief will give you the best horse he has. If the brave beats you, you will hand over the woman and ride out.”
Lynnie looked scared, and the cowboys set up an angry murmuring. “We’ll all fight them, Ace.”
Ace shook his head. “They outnumber us, and we don’t stand a chance.” He studied the young warrior, not at all sure he could take him.
Lynnie caught his arm, and he felt her hand tremble. “I have faith in you, Ace.”
The way her green eyes looked up at him made him determined to protect her. “Damn you, girl, I wish you’d stayed on that train.”
She smiled despite the fear in her face. “And miss all this fun?”
Ace began to strip off his shirt. “Tell the chief to form everyone into a circle. I will defend my woman.”
As Comanch translated, there was a murmur of excitement from the Indians, who began to form a big circle. The young brave stripped down to his loincloth, and Ace took a deep breath as he looked over the muscled brown body. Ace was pretty good in a barroom brawl, but he wasn’t sure he could take this lithe young warrior. He glanced over at Lynnie. She looked pale but defiant.
Ace squared his shoulders and stepped into the circle. The young brave grinned and nodded to Lynnie as if to say, In a few minutes, you will belong to me.
The thought annoyed Ace as he went into a wrestler’s stance. The warrior circled warily. Ace circled, too, then, unexpectedly, dove for the other man and caught him around the legs. They went down in a flurry of dust, rolling over and over as both sides yelled encouragement. They finally broke free and staggered to their feet, even as Ace hit the other man in the jaw, causing him to stumble backward and go down. Ace pounced on him like a bobcat, pounding him in the face. The Indians yelled encouragement, and the warrior skillfully twisted out from under Ace and grabbed him by the throat, choking him with strong hands.
Ace was gasping for air, struggling to break the other’s grip. Blackness played around his vision as he fought to escape. His lungs felt as if they were on fire, and it was tempting to stop fighting, hoping the other would relax his grip; but then he thought of Lynnie’s fate and brought his arms up, catching the warrior on the forearms and breaking the hold. Gasping for breath, Ace staggered toward the brave and slammed him into a tree. Around him, he was dimly aware of everyone shouting, urging both men on. He doubled his fist and caught the other man in the jaw, sending him sprawling.
At this point, Lynnie could stand no more. Before anyone could stop her, she rushed into the battle and began pummeling the downed brave. “How dare you think I’d go with you? How dare you!”
The brave threw up his hands to protect his face as Lynnie beat on him while Ace stared in horror. Now the Comanches began to laugh uncertainly and point. There was no doubt they were ridiculing the young warrior for having to fight a woman. Ace came striding across the circle and picked her up, kicking and screaming. “Girl, you weren’t supposed to get mixed up in this.”
“Damned if I wasn’t!” Now she began to punch Ace, who held her at arm’s length, trying to avoid her small fists. The Indians laughed even louder, and the chief said something to Comanch.
“He says she is too much woman for any man. He would not like his son to have to try to tame her.”
“I could have told him that.” Ace grinned and held Lynnie at arm’s length. “Tell him his son is a brave man, and we give three fat steers in payment for crossin’ the Comanches’ land.”
When Comanch translated, even the beaten brave began to smile. He said something to Comanch, who turned to Ace. “He says if you can handle that filly, you’re a better man than he is.”
Ace picked up the struggling Lynnie and hung her over his broad shoulder. “Tell him no one can tame a Texan except maybe another Texan. We part friends.”
He carried Lynnie over and put her up on her horse. “Now let’s get out of here before they change their minds.”
She smiled at him, her eyelashes fluttering. “Whatever you say, Ace.”