“Who is the father?”
“You.”
He felt a choking sensation. “It’s impossible, Datiye,” he said harshly.
“Not impossible.”
“It was one time.”
“I have been with no one else since my husband died. That is common knowledge among this band.” She was serene.
He refused to believe it, and said so. His heart was beating too quickly.
“All the men have tried—many times—to take me to their beds. They become angry because. I always refuse, even offers of marriage. They say I am foolish. Then they say I think I am too good for them. But when I say I am with child, they all leave me alone, as is the way. Ask everyone,” she said. There is no man here who can claim this child as his own. Except you.”
“How many months?” His words were stiff.
She smiled. “Four and a half.”
He could count. He had lain with her then, exactly. Four and a half months ago he had taken her, too drunk to care, knowing even then he would regret it, that she would make demands, interfere in his life. “I am married now,” he said angrily. “My wife is with child too.”
Datiye shrugged.
Jack frowned. He had so many thoughts at once. “Who brings you meat?”
She looked toward thegohwahwhere Luz was sleeping, not wanting to mention the name of the dead. Jack understood. Shozkay had provided for her. “Now who hunts for you?”
“I do not beg,” she said proudly, lifting her chin.
Datiye’s parents were dead, and she had no brothers, no sisters. She was alone. He felt the weight of his responsibility toward her as the mother of his child. It was a responsibility he did not want to feel. It made him angry. “You should have married four months ago,” he said.
“You can have many wives,” she reminded him.
He stood, walking away to think, Datiye needed care, and she needed it from now until the child—his child—was born.
How could this have happened?
Had she planned their night together knowing she was fertile—to trap him?
Did it even matter?
If Candice ever found out about this, their marriage was finished. He knew it instinctively. She would not care that a man had the right to more than one woman—an Apache to more than one wife. Further, the time of conception was so close for both women, she would believe he had slept with Datiye after being with her. He was sure of it. He was in a bind, and no matter which way he turned, he would feel the noose tightening. And once again he had no choice.
He found Datiye by the fire. He squatted. “I will return in seven days. Be ready, both you and Luz. I am riding with Cochise, and I will take both of you with me.” He grimaced at her smile of satisfaction, and turned and walked away. Tonight he would sleep. Tomorrow he would ride east—to El Paso.
To his wife.
CHAPTER SIXTY
She was showing.
It was eight days into March—and Jack had left exactly one month ago. Candice was four months’ pregnant and already beginning to show. However, she was careful to hide it, and so far her secret was safe. She’d let out two of her dresses and was constantly draped in a dark-green shawl that effectively hid the swelling of both her breasts and her belly. She had never been more tired in her life—or more lonely and afraid.
There had been no more news since Henry’s visit ten days ago. That frightened her. She didn’t believe that no news was good news. She had to find out what was going on—and there was no way for her to do so.
It was a bitterly cold, gray day and it looked as if more snow would fall. Just my luck, Candice thought bitterly. She had laundry to do. But today, because of the weather, she would wait just one more day, and hope tomorrow would be warm and sunny. Honestly, she was just too tired to do the backbreaking work, and Doc Harris had warned her a few days ago not to push herself so hard. He had been kind enough to bring her half of a roasted turkey with blackberry stuffing. She wondered if it was true—that he was living out of wedlock with a young, very pretty Mexican woman. If so, she was a wonderful cook.
Louis came running in with the morning’s eggs, a tall, gawky boy with a missing front tooth.“Buenos dias, señora. Today is very good,sí?”
