He told me that the Apache raid, and that they make war, and that these are separate things. They raid for foodstuffs and other things they need, they do not raid to kill. When they make war, they do so to kill.

But they do not kill children, and they do not slaughter animals needlessly. He says there is enough trouble between the 245 whites and the Indians. He doesn't usually have much use for the Comanche himself, and the tribes have warred for generations, but he cannot see the Comanche blamed for a white man's sins."

"You had quite a long talk with him," Jamie commented.

"Jealous?" she asked sweetly.

He grunted.

She braced her hands upon his chest, staring deeply into his eyes.

"I.

like him, Jamie."

Jamie laced his fingers behind his head as he watched her eyes.

"Want to stay with him?" he asked.

Words, gentle words, self-betraying words, hovered on Tess's lips. I like Nalte, but I love you, she almost said. But she could not dispel the memory of Eliza hanging on to him, trying to force him to love her in return. She would never do that, she swore. It was dangerous to fall in love with Jamie Slater.

If nothing else, Tess wanted her dignity left to her.

She forced a smile to her lips and asked lightly, "Trying to get rid of me?"

"You are a h.e.l.l of a lot of trouble," he told her frankly. "Yes, but you've already come this far."

"So I have."

"And I really am worth it."

"Are you?" His eyebrows shot up.

She nodded. Then she moved very low against him again. She let her hair float over his chest as she lowered her lips to his slick bronze flesh.

She shimmied her body against him as she inched lower down the length of his body, her thighs locked around him, moving sinuously against him.

She felt the quick rasp of his breath, and she let her lips linger upon the spot where she could hear the frantic beating of his heart.

Then she moved lower and lower, daring to touch him instinctively, exploring what was intensely male about him with little subtlety and tremendous fascination. Her body undulated upon his. She discovered her own prowess and power, and drove him nearly to madness. All that he had demanded of her she took in return. He shuddered violently beneath her touch, his fingers digging into the earth when she caressed him as boldly with her lips and tongue as he had done to her. He shouted out hoa.r.s.ely, and she was soon pinned to the earth as he took her almost savagely, with a driving, explicit hunger that seemed to rend the very heavens.

And when the stars had exploded to dance within the night sky and go still again, he whispered tenderly against her ear, "My love, you are worth it indeed."

They stayed by the water a little while longer. Whatever came in the future, Tess knew that she would dream of this place as long as she lived.

She began to shiver, and he covered her in the doeskin dress once again, and then he suggested that they return to the tepee in the village.

They slept that night alone together in the teix~ where she had been taken earlier that day. They slept, having shed their clothing once again, wound into one another's arms within the warm shelter of an Apache blanket.

When morning came, they were still together.

During the next few days, they were Nalte's honored guests. They attended the ceremonies for his sister, Little Flower, and Tess was amazed to find that she had discovered a strange peace here, living with the Apache. Nalte spent time with the two of them. Sometimes he ignored Tess and engaged in long conversations with Jamie in his Apache tongue.

But sometimes he spoke in English, including Tess. Once, when they were alone, Jamie having gone to join a bunting party, Nalte took it upon himself to teach her something about the Apache ways.

He explained to her about the Gan," or Mountain Spirit Dancers. In their masks, they impersonated the Mountains Spirits. They evoked the power of the supernaturals to cure illness, drive away evil and bring good fortune. They a.s.sembled in a cave, and under the guidance of a special Gan shaman, they donned their sacred costumes. They held great power, and therefore they were obliged to honor severe restrictions.

They were not to recognize friends once they were in their attire, nor were they to dance incorrectly or to tamper with the sacred costume or clothing once it had been left within a secret cache. To disobey any of the restrictions could bring calamity down upon the dancer or his family or tribe. To disobey could bring about sickness, madness, even death.

"We are a people of ritual," he told her.

"We celebrate the Holiness Rite and the Ceremonial Relay. For the Holiness Rite the shaman must go through arduous procedures, imitating the bear and the snake, and curing the people of the powerful bear and snake sicknesses.

The Ceremonial Relay tells us of our food supply--game and the harvest of nature. Runners symbolize the sun and the animals, and the moon and the plants. If the sun runners win, game will be in plenty for us. If the moon runners win, then we will feast on the harvest of the plants."

"You live a good life here," Tess said.

"I live a good life, yes, but I fear the day when white men come to take it from me."

"But surely, here" -- "They will come, the white men will come. War will tear apart the mountains, and blood will stain the rivers. It is inevitable.

But when the time comes, I will remember you, and Slater, and I will know that all whites are not the same. Yes, it is good here. Now. And you, I think that you are at She smiled at him.

"I do not believe it, but yes, I am at peace here."

Nalte stared at the fire that burned in the center of the village.

"You might have been happy had you stayed," he said quietly.

"And maybe not. Our women are the gatherers. The first green vegetables are the yucca, and the women collect them. Then they must collect the me seal stalks and roast them and grind them into paste. We eat the mescal as paste, and as the cakes you have been given with your meals. It is a hard life."

"A ranch is a hard life. And so is a newspaper," Tess said softly.

She looked at him quickly.

"A newspaper" -- "I know what a newspaper is. I lived in a town for many years when I was a child. I was captured with a war party and taken in by a minister's wife. I learned a lot about your society. A newspaper is a powerful weapon."

"It isn't a weapon at all," Tess protested. "More powerful than a gun.

Be careful with it," Nalte warned her. Then he asked her if she was Jamie's wife. She flushed as she told him that she was not.

"But you are his woman," Nalte told her.

"It--it isn't the same thing," she said.

The Indian was lowering his head, smiling, and she remembered belatedly that he had chosen to let her go because of Jamie.

"When an Apache marries, he goes to his wife's family. If she lives in a distant territory, then the man leaves and joins her family. Within it he may rise to be the leader, then he may become the leader of many families, and ultimately a great chief. But always, when it is possible, he joins his wife's family. He works for his wife's parents and elders, and he is known by them as 'he who carries burdens for me."

He speaks for her, and the man and the woman exchange gifts. A separate dwelling is made for the couple. She is his wife.

"But I tell you, Sun-Colored Woman, that it is the same among the Apache and the whites. When a man loves a woman, when he claims her for his own, when he is willing to give his life and his pride and his honor for her, that is when she is truly his wife, in his eyes and in the eyes of the 249 great spirits, be they our G.o.ds or the one great G.o.d of the whites." He touched her cheek almost tenderly, then left her. She thought about his words for a long time to come, and she wondered if Jamie did love her. Did he love her enough to stay with her, or would he tire of her, as he had tired of Eliza?

She had made love with him always of her own volition. She had wanted him as she had never known want before.

But sometimes she wished that she had never given in to the temptation, for she felt that she had tasted forbidden fruit.

She had found it very sweet, but she would perish when she could taste it no longer. ~ Nights were theirs. She never spoke, but came to him with her skin warmed by the fire, her body bathed by the stream, her hair soft and fragrant from the sun. She lay down be- side him, and she loved him, and she tried not to think of the future.

On the fourth night of Little Flower's p.u.b.erty rite, when the maiden had become a woman, Jamie was silent, holding her gently, staying motionless.

Tess knew that he didn't sleep, and she shifted against him, asking him what was wrong.

"We're free to go home tomorrow," she whispered to him.

"Yes, or the next day," be said absently.

"Nalte has been involved with his sister and us. He may be busy with tribal business tomorrow."

"what difference will a day make?"

He shook his head, still staring toward the top of the tepee and the poles that seemed to reach toward the stars.

"A.

day will not make a difference. Nothing will a make a difference.

That's the point. When we go home, Tess, von Heusen is still going to be there. And we still haven't any proof of what he is doing."

"But--but Jeremiah and David kidnapped me--and they left you for dead!"

Tess protested.

"Jeremiah and David are dead. They can't be brought to trial, and they can't be forced to testify against von Heusen.

We're right back where we started. And I know you. You'll head right back to that newspaper office of yours."

"Jamie, I have to!"

"You don't have to!" he told her savagely. "Jamie" -- "We're going back, Tess, and we're going to fight yon Heusen. But we have to do it by my rules."

"I don't" -- "That's right--you don't. You don't make a move without someone by your side, do you understand me? Things are going to get worse. Von Heusen may be thinking right now that you and I are gone. He may even have had a few moments of divine pleasure, thinking that he'd won at last. But Tess, by now he must have discovered that he can't get his hands on that property, even if we're both believed to be dead and gone. He's going to be furious when he finds it's willed to my family--and he's going to be ready for a full- scale war. We've got to pray that we're going to be ready for it."

"Can we be?" Tess whispered.

"Yes, we can," he said. But then he swung around on her, staring at her fiercely, clutching her chin with a grip so tight that it was painful.

"But Tess, so help me G.o.d, you'll do it my way."

"Jamie" -- "You'll do it my way?"

"Fine! All right!" she snapped.

He dropped her jaw. Tears were stinging her eyes, and she quickly rolled away from him, furious that no matter how close it seemed they became, he still played the dictator. And left her frightened that she was falling more and more deeply in love with a man who would wage war for her, who would risk his life for her. And yet ride away in the end, when it mattered the most.

He did not reach for her, and she did not come back to touch him that night.

Her back was mid, and she drew the blanket more fully around her.

She shivered in the night. But the distance remained between them.

They spent one more day with the Apache, watching the sacred ritual when a young boy departed with his first hunting party. The boy's first four raids would be accompanied by ritual. This day he was instructed by the war shaman and accepted by the adult members of the party. He was given a drinking tube and a scratcher with lightning designs, and he was bestowed with a war cap.

Jamie spoke to her while they stood watching. He pointed to the war cap and told her, "It will not yet contain the spiritual power that belongs to the men. He must complete his pa.s.sage before the spirits will enter into his cap." The men and women of the village were gathering around the boy to throw pollen upon him as be departed with the warriors.

"It is a blessing," Jamie told her.

"And we are standing here, watching this, and these men and that boy will go off and raid some white settlement and perhaps kill our own kind," Tess murmured. Jamie glared at her.

"I'll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself. We're lucky to be leaving here alive. And, Miss. Stuart, for your information, this party is moving against the Comancheres. I don't believe you can feel too much sympathy for that particular group."

She could not, but she didn't have a chance to tell him so. He turned her around and propelled her toward the tepee they were sharing.

"Go in, be quiet. I'm going to ask Nalte if we might leave tomorrow."

She didn't hear, that afternoon, whether Nalte gave his permission.

She waited endlessly for Jamie to return, but he did not. When it was dark one of the Apache women came to help her rekindle the fire and to give her a plate of beef and yams and roe seal cakes. She ate halfheartedly and waited, but Jamie still didn't return. Finally her impatience brought her to the opening in the tent, and she looked out to see Jamie and Nalte and the victorious raiding party sitting around the central fire, laughing, talking, enjoying some newly arrived bottles of whiskey, and apparently enjoying one another as if they were long lost friends. In a fury she went to the fire and called Jamie's name sharply.

Every man there paused and stared at her, none of them more surprised or annoyed than Jamie. Nalte shot him a quick glance and said something in Apache. Jamie was quickly on his feet. He replied casually to the chief, but two rugged strides brought him to Tess.

Before she could move or react he had b.u.t.ted her belly with his shoulder and lifted her precariously. Her head dangled dangerously down his back.

She screamed out her protest, but Jamie ignored her and the Apache laughed, enjoying the show.

Within seconds they were back in the tepee. She landed hard on one of the blankets, desperately inhaling as he stared at her furiously. She might have thought at first that he was drunk, but the sharp fire in his eyes denied such a possibility. She accused him anyway before he could yell at her.

"You're totally inebriated!"

"Inebriated--you mean drunk, don't you? I wish I were. Drunk enough to give you what you need! And what you need is a good switch taken to your hide."

"Oh!" She shimmied up to her knees.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that, Jamie Slater" -- "I don't think I'm just going to speak!" he warned her, his lashes falling over his eyes so that they were narrow and dangerous.

"I think I'm going to act" -- She was on her feet instantly, running for the flap in the tent with a speed and agility as fleet as a doe's. But at the flap she paused, realizing that she would be running into a group of raucous Apaches.

She spun around, certain Jamie was almost upon her. But he was standing back, watching her with supreme arrogance and amus.e.m.e.nt. He had known she wouldn't run out of the tent.