Jack had traveled for two nights and two and half days, making slightly better time than the party he was following. It had soon become apparent that they were crossing the Catalinas, and he was certain he knew the campsite Shozkay was heading for. Still, he didn’t dare get ahead of himself and make directly for it, in case he had guessed incorrectly. Like all Apaches, Shozkay’s band moved from site to site. Unlike all other Apaches, however, his tribe farmed for about a quarter of their sustenance needs.
Now, in mid-October, they would be in the higher elevations harvesting corn, beans, and pumpkin, and baking and packing mescal cakes, smoking and drying beef, in preparation for the long winter ahead. They would not leave the mountains until they had harvested their crops—except to raid or war.
When he rode into the camp it was shortly after sunrise, the air still chill from the mountain night. There was some activity, but not the usual amount. The women were up and about doing their early-morning chores, and he could smell the acorn soup he was so fond of, but the rest of the camp was in a strange silence, which Jack immediately understood. Last night they had arrived and had had a victory celebration. He went to Shozkay’s gohwah.
Now that he was so close he was afraid of what he would find. His entire body was tense with anticipation and dread, his heart pounding painfully. He found Luz hovering over a fire. Her eyes lit up when she saw him.“Shilah!”
Jack couldn’t return her smile or her greeting, and she instantly sobered. “Where is your husband?” he asked.
She pointed toward the creek.
Jack found Shozkay splashing water over his face and down his bare chest. His brother saw him, eyes widening with amazement, and then they embraced, clapping each other hard.
“Shik’isn, I did not expect to see you again so soon.”
“The woman,” Jack said abruptly, his eyes burning into Shozkay’s. “The white woman with yellow hair. Is she alive?”
Shozkay stared in surprise. “Yes, she is.”
“And in one piece?” He held his breath.
“I believe so.”
Shozkay regarded him questioningly.
“Who has her?” Jack said, his mouth clamping into a hard line to prevent the relief he felt from flooding his features. But he couldn’t prevent it from reaching his eyes, and Shozkay saw it.
“Hayilkah.”
Jack frowned grimly. There was only one way to free her. “Offer for her.”
Shozkay stared in surprise.
“I mean it,” Jack said grimly. “Offer the black to Chise and Gahgeh.” They were Hayilkah’s wife’s parents.
“You wish to marry this white woman?” Shozkay was incredulous.
“Yes,” Jack said. It was not the truth. The truth was that Hayilkah had captured her, making her his. She was rare. He would not give her as a gift. He would expect many gifts in return for her hand. Or maybe he would want to keep her for himself, as a second wife. It was a thought Jack could not stand.
“The black is a fine stallion,” Shozkay said, still staring at his brother closely. “I doubt that Hayilkah will refuse such a gift.”
Acceptance of an offering meant Jack could take Candice, and in Apache law, once they had slept together in their own gohwah, they would be man and wife. He would not think about those implications, not now.
“How do you know this woman, brother?”
“It is a long story.”
“I have all day.” Shozkay grinned.
Jack wasn’t smiling. “I wish to see her.”
“You will have to ask Hayilkah. He is asleep somewhere. Too muchtulapailast night, he added. They walked back to the camp, and Shozkay put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I wish I had known,” he said softly.
Jack’s body was rigid. They found Hayilkah passed out beside a few other warriors. Jack bent and spoke his name, shaking him. After a couple of minutes, Hayilkah opened one eye, saying “Go away, woman.”
“It is my brother,” Shozkay said, squatting by him. “He wishes to see your slave.”
Hayilkah opened the other eye and tried to focus. “Yes, go,” he mumbled, then fell asleep instantly.
