She stared, unsure. Jack was rigid, expressionless, unmoving, “If I sleep with you, will you release Jack?”
“Your charms are not that great. I expect him to speak up before I actually have to rape you. Of course, we can avoid much unpleasantness if he speaks up now. Where is the stronghold?”
Jack stared impassively.
“Undress,” the major said, removing his own jacket casually. “And after I’m through I’ll let my soldiers at you—every woman-starved one.”
Candice sucked in her breath. “Jack will never tell you what you want. Even if you do rape me.”
“I think you’re wrong,” the major said. “I think even a man reared by the Apaches would eventually break down. Especially as my men will more likely than not tear you apart—literally.”
Candice looked at Jack. “It’s all right,” she told him, unbuttoning her blouse. “It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t matter. Don’t say anything.” Their gazes met. She saw that his mouth was clamped hard together. She tried to reassure him silently. She pulled off her shirt, letting it drop to the floor. She let her skirt drop to her ankles. Her petticoat followed. She was wearing nothing underneath—she had no pantalets. She shrugged out of her chemise.
“Incredibly beautiful,” Bradley said, a touch of huskiness creeping into his tone. He smiled, stepped closer, and reached out to cup her breasts. “Incredibly beautiful.”
Candice looked briefly at Jack, and saw that he was trying to control his breathing and his anger. She tried to ignore the major’s caressing hand. “I won’t give you the satisfaction of raping me. I won’t fight you.”
“Has he tasted your mother’s milk?” Bradley murmured, and he bent his head, taking her nipple in his mouth.
Jack lunged upward against the cuff. If he hadn’t been so weak and hurt, he would have gotten to his feet and dragged the bed with him. Candice looked wildly around the room for a weapon. Her eyes lit on Bradley’s gun, but it was in a buttoned-down holster. He doesn’t really know me, she thought with sudden hope. She was his enemy too.
She looked frantically at Jack. He was gesturing at the tray where her dinner plate had been, on the table by the bed. What did he think? There was no knife there, they hadn’t given her one. Then she saw the lead paperweight, in the shape of a bear.
“Good God.” Bradley gasped, coming up for air. “Your milk is so sweet.” He was shaking.
Candice pulled him a step toward the bed, sinking onto the floor, the table with the paperweight not far from her head. She smiled, lips parted, as if she were highly aroused, and beckoned for him, legs and arms spread.
He came, unbuttoning his pants and freeing his member. He knelt, moving on top of her. Candice felt a stab, both of fear and a tentative thrust that could not penetrate past her dry skin. Jack! Could he reach the damn paperweight? Normally that would be easy. But he was so weak. And Bradley was battering her, trying to enter, with all the clumsiness of a schoolboy.
And then she saw Jack’s hand, heard his grunt of pain, and she averted her own head as the paperweight came crashing onto Bradley’s skull, not a perfect shot by any means, skimming the side and his temple. He stared wildly at her for an instant, his movements stopping, stunned and not comprehending.
Like a snake, Candice had her hand on his holster, was unsnapping it and releasing the gun. She sent it crashing against the same temple, and he slumped on top of her with a breath of exhaled air.
She lay very still, her heart pounding. Then she shoved him up and rose, to collapse on the bed at Jack’s side. He was panting, eyes closed. “We have to get you out of here,” she said.
He opened his eye. “Get the key,” he said hoarsely.
She scrambled to obey. She found it in one of Bradley’s pockets, then unlocked the handcuffs. Jack sat, staring at her. On the floor, the major stirred.
Jack stood, picking up the gun, moving to the window. There were two soldiers at the front door. He went to the other window. It was just around the corner from the major’s quarters, but it was the only way out. He paused, then, to regard her steadily. Grimly.
“You’re leaving me!” She gasped. “You’re leaving me and Christina?”
“You’ll be all right,” he said. “I hit the major, not you.” It was a warning.
“Jack! But—” She stopped, unable to believe it as he cuffed her wrist to the bedpost. Then he climbed through the window, naked, gun in hand, and dropped silently and stiffly to the other side. She clapped her free hand over her mouth.He was leaving without her. The major groaned.
Jack paused for the barest of seconds, and his gaze locked with hers. His was filled with resolution. Candice watched helplessly, feeling as if her heart were breaking, again. “Please don’t.” She gasped.
And then he was gone. She sat shaking, naked, her right wrist handcuffed to the bedpost. He was free, but she felt only an agonizing pain in her heart.
He had left without her.
CHAPTER NINETY-ONE
He wasn’t coming.
Candice stared out of her bedroom window, not even seeing the dusty yard, the corrals, the barns, the walls surrounding the High C. Instead, she saw Jack, squatting by the fire in front of thegohwah, Datiye and Shoshi by his side. Tears came into her eyes. But this was what she had wanted, wasn’t it?
