Comanche Haven (The Loflin Legacy: Book 1) (10 page)

He knew the Apache sometimes used this
tactic to keep survivors, bent on revenge, from following. Over the
ringing in his ears, the only sound he could hear was the crackling
of the flames as they greedily consumed everything flammable.
Moments passed as he stared horrified at the mutilation. Celia
couldn’t see this. Seth shook himself to focus on a plan to prevent
her coming here.

What possible reason could someone have
had for wiping out an entire band of Comanche? He searched hard
through the smoke, looking for movement of any kind. No one, not
even the horses, remained alive. Apache would’ve taken the horses.
Something didn’t feel right about the whole mess. He surveyed the
charred remains of the teepees, the broken pots, and tanning poles
littered about. Hell, even the dog lay dead from a gunshot wound to
the head! It was slaughter, pure and simple. These people had been
his friends and now…they were dead. Sicker still it had occurred on
his land, he stared blindly at the charred remains of Lone Eagle’s
camp.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye,
he caught a movement. Celia raced past Seth into the midst of the
carnage. His heart lurched even as his mouth opened to form useless
words. Coughing and gauging with smoke, she staggered among the
death and destruction. Her features were wild with shock as she
frantically searched for her father.

“
No, Celia, don’t!” Reaching
her at the same time she found Lone Eagle, Seth gripped her by the
shoulders. Great trembling sobs echoed into the smoke as Celia
simply crumpled to the ground. The keening sounds she made tore at
him, and he knew a terrible sense of helplessness.

“
Father!” Celia hunkered
over Lone Eagle. Her hands trembled as she checked his
wounds.

Seth knelt by her side.

***

Lone Eagle lay as he had fallen.
Celia’s ran her hands quickly over the bullet wound in his chest.
Tearing his tunic back, she examined the wound. “It just missed his
heart. The blood – there’s too much!” Staunching as much as she
could with a nearby piece of cloth, Celia spoke gently to her
father. “Father, it’s me, Father! It’s Little One.” As she tore the
tunic from Lone Eagle’s chest, she turned to Seth and said, “Get me
some water and all the clean cloths you can find. I’m going to need
your knife and some whiskey.”

Lone Eagle’s eyes opened and he reached
up with his quivering hand. He spoke in a rasp as his gaze settled
on his only child. “Celia, I’m…grateful to the Great Spirit…you
live.”

Her fingers tenderly caressed his
cheek. “Father, I’m here now. You’ll be all right. Seth, the Dark
Wolf, has saved me and brought me back.” She sobbed. “I will take
care of you.” Tears rolled down her cheeks and mixed with her
father’s blood. She tried desperately to get the tunic open in
order to tend the wound further.

“
No, daughter, it’s too
late…for me. The time has come. I want you…to leave…this place.”
His breathing ragged, he gripped her hand, urging her to listen to
him. “Leave here…go with Dark Wolf…don’t look back. Remember you’re
my daughter. I…I love you.” Looking then to Seth, he spoke weakly.
“Dark Wolf, take…take my daughter. Protect her. Promise me this …
my son.”

“
No, Father, I can help you.
Let me try.” Her voice broke on the last words. She tore a piece of
cloth from her chemise trying to stop the blood flow.

Seth gripped his old friend’s hand.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her, I promise. Who did this, Lone
Eagle?”

Lone Eagle attempted to answer. His
harsh coughs lead Celia to try soothing away her father’s
discomfort with tender words near his ear.

“
They came in…the rising of
the sun,” he gasped. His eyes grew wide with the effort. Lone
Eagle’s features constricted. Within seconds, peace came over his
face as his eyes clouded and fixed in a sightless stare.

“
Noooo…! Father!” Calling
his name, Celia began to sob uncontrollably. She clutched her
father’s shoulders and shook him. Frantic to get a pulse, Celia
checked her father’s throat, then his wrist. Great sops racked her
body but she continued to check for a pulse. Tears mingled with her
father’s blood and ran as she struggled to gain a response from her
only parent. Seth tried to gather her in, but Celia shoved and
groaned a misery filled “No!” before taking her fists and beating
on her father’s chest.

His friend was gone. He’d been too
late. The tribe, which had taken him in when he was a yearling in
need of sanctuary, was no more. Seth’s gut clenched in knots. Some
said the trouble brewing between The People and the white man was
going to boil over eventually. He even agreed with the line of
thinking, but he’d never dreamed it would be on his land and with
his adopted family. How would Broken Horse handle it, he mused.
What about Celia? He’d given his word he would take care of her.
He’d given his word…Seth gripped her shoulder. “Easy, Celia. He’s
gone.”

As the realization took hold, Celia
threw back her head and screamed at the sky. Finally, in utter
defeat, she collapsed across her father’s body and
dissolved.

***

Saplings snapped and swayed. Soon,
grunts mingled with labored breathing as someone struggled to get
through the thicket. Broken Horse came stumbling through the
undergrowth and trees dragging a bundle and leading Seth’s horse.
When he saw Seth carrying Celia, he halted. “I heard screams, what
happened?”

Seth kept moving. “There was an
attack.” Dodging trees and briars, he strode further and further
from the blood. Unable to stop, he didn’t take a full breath until
the campsite was no longer visible when he turned to
look.

“
An attack? Was she hurt?
How many more?” Broken Horse took Seth’s arm to still him. As he
slowed, Seth realized he must’ve been feeling the horror
himself.

“
They’re all gone.” The
finality in Seth’s words permeated the air around them.

“
No.” The one word was all
Broken Horse could utter before breaking into a mad run for the
campsite.

Seth could only watch as the great
warrior charged into the thicket and disappeared.

Carrying her gently, Seth whistled for
his horse. Spooked, Sarge appeared but danced sideways at the sight
of his master agitated and upset. “Easy, boy.” Seth’s voice soothed
the animal before he gathered a blanket from his pack and wrapped
it tightly around Celia. Leading her to an oak, Seth gently settled
her against the great trunk. The next thing to do was build a fire.
Seth wiped sooth from his face and stared back at the smoke still
billowing from the tree line. He glanced back at Celia who huddled
against the trunk rocking gently. Her tears mingled with the soot,
which floated aimlessly in the air, making dirty little trails down
her face. Seth took his kerchief and gently rubbed at the
smudges.

He’d never really grieved for anyone
who’d died before. The death of his father had stung, but they
hadn’t been close. There were those he’d killed out of
survival.

These people had been his friends.
They’d been Celia’s family. The indescribable emptiness in the pit
of his stomach was painful for Seth. He wanted to hurl things at
the moon as it appeared over the ridge. He felt battered, bruised,
and wanted to yell obscenities until he couldn’t anymore. But he
didn’t. He couldn’t. Celia needed him. Then he’d made a promise to
his old friend. He had to protect her.

Seth watched her propped against the
old oak. Cutter lay with his head in her lap. Celia started to
shake once more. Her dazed eyes still sought the smoldering
camp.

The flames still licked at the teepee
poles. The smell of smoke hung heavy in the growing dusk. Even from
the cover of the trees, smoke and flames still lurked like
evil.

Tears trickled down her cheeks and
muffled sobs racked her frame as the mournful realization engulfed
her again. Seth tugged the blanket, which had fallen over her
shoulders once more. He let her sob out her grief, his face grim
with the knowledge he couldn’t have stopped what had occurred.
After a while, he went to his saddlebags and pulled out a flask,
placing the silver container in her hand. “Drink some of this. It’s
whiskey so be careful.” He guided the flask to her lips and
watched, as she tasted the amber liquid.

Grimacing when the strong liquor burned
the back of her throat, Celia gagged and coughed.

“
Take another. It’s easier
the second time.” She eyed him with an incredulous look mingled
with the pain. Seth made her take two more swallows before letting
her rest again. The whiskey seemed to do the job. The trembling had
stopped. Now, she simply sat.

Out of the corner of his eye, Seth
watched Celia resting against the strength of the oak.

Her eyes, glassy and red rimed,
followed him as he worked on a campfire. In silence, Seth went
about the business of getting her warm. He knew she needed all the
heat Seth could provide. “We’ll rest here tonight.” The crackle of
the oak and cedar chips soon gave way to glowing embers, which
breathed with the gentle breeze. Settling beside her, he covered
them both with another woolen blanket. She’d been so still. Tucking
the blanket gently around her legs, he watched her reddened face.
She needed a sedative. Hopefully, by morning, someone from the
ranch would find them.

Celia shifted slightly and looked up.
Though her eyes were on him, Seth knew she didn’t see him. Her
suffering tugged at his heart. “You’ve got to rest now.”

The flask was still in her hands as she
shifted her gaze straight ahead. Her body began to rock back and
forth. “Who could have done this?” Her words, the first she’d
spoken since he’d carried her away, were so forlorn it made Seth’s
heart ache.

“
I don’t know yet, but I aim
to find out. You can count on it.” He wanted more than anything for
the finality in his words to bring some small measure of
comfort.

She shivered and shook with a new spell
of riggers.

Seth wrapped the blanket tighter around
her shoulders. Her skin was so cold. A fresh wave of ineptness
washed over Seth. Though he tried all he knew to do, he feared he
wouldn’t be able to ease the pain and the chill which came with it.
“Why?” She looked into his face now.

The wound was too raw to answer the one
question he had dreaded since finding the attack, so he gently
tugged her closer and rubbed her arm. “We’ll sort out what we can
tomorrow in the light of day.” Seth pulled her into the warmth of
his chest. She went willingly like a lost kitten. “In the meantime,
try and rest. I won’t let you go. I promise, Little One.” It pained
him to know he had no good answer for what had happened.

In the stillness, Seth mulled over the
facts. It had been such a gutless, horrible act. The whole thing
would’ve made more sense if the culprits had taken the horses. As
it was, the only reason he could think of for such a vicious act
was hatred. Someone’s hatred was so strong they’d decided to commit
murder over and over again. He had ideas about who it could be, but
he knew too sometimes things weren’t always, as they
seemed.

The soft mewling brought him out of his
head. He heard her before he felt Celia’s shoulders start to quiver
once more. “Easy now, I’m right here. Shhh… I got you.” He hunkered
down a bit further and secured her in the crook of his shoulder.
With her securely nestled in his arms, Seth tried not to think
about how right she felt in his arms.

She drew her face against his chest and
moaned.

Seth held her as close as he could and
whispered innate words while she clutched at his shirtfront. The
thought drifted through Seth’s mind that Celia had only been back
two days and already suffered so much. Exhaustion finally took over
and Celia was silent.

Seth caught himself watching her
breath. He began to pick at the puzzle of her words…“But I would’ve
come back if I’d heard from you.” Was she telling the truth? He’d
never gotten any letters. If she was telling the truth, then what
had happened to those letters? Was someone hiding a secret? Seth
vowed to find out why she’d left and who had intercepted her
letters.

When Celia shifted restlessly and
murmured in her sleep, Seth ran a hand over her hair. Cradling her
in the crook of his arm, his voice low and soft, he spoke to her.
“Don’t worry, Little One. I’m here. I’ll take care of you.” A lone
coyote’s howl carried mournfully over the ridge. As night enveloped
them in its inky blackness, Seth and Celia finally dozed in each
other’s arms resting against the great oak with Cutter at their
feet.

***

The sound of a birdcall woke Seth in
the early hours before dawn. He moved from Celia’s side, careful
not to wake her. With her head resting on his bedroll, Seth
followed the direction of the call. A fog had seeped in during the
night like death’s own hand. Seth returned the call and through the
fingers of the fog, a dark figure emerged. Seth uncocked the hammer
on his revolver and re-holstered it. “What took you so
long?”

“
I rode out when night fell
and you hadn’t come home, brother. What happened here? You can
smell smoke a mile away.” The lanky, younger version of Seth slid
from the horse’s back and landed lightly in front of his older
sibling. Reaching out, Tyron Loflin grasped Seth squarely by the
shoulders and gave him a slight shake. The man’s face, haloed by
long dark hair, resembled a warrior. “Are you all
right?”