Simply Heaven (8 page)

"So you won't do something stupid that will get us killed." She stepped away from him, not liking the way he was looking at her. Now was no time for him to discover the truth of her gender. She prayed he never would.

Steve continued to rage. "I wish to hell I had followed my instincts and never left the fort with you. Don't you realize once Diablo throws him, he's going to know you tricked him and come up shooting, you idiot?"

Raven ignored him, intent on watching the Lipan hoist himself on the horse's back.

Steve also watched and waited tensely for the instant when the mustang would begin to rear and buck. All he could hope for was that the Indian would be sent flying through the air to land head first on a rock and die instantly.

Otherwise, he and Little Crow would be the ones to die.

But nothing happened.

Diablo was completely docile, as though obediently waiting for his rider to indicate what he wanted him to do.

The Lipan raised his rifle in a grateful salute to Little Crow and reined Diablo about. Once he was past the trees and the rocky bluff bordering the stream, he dug in his heels to urge the mustang into a full gallop.

Raven went to untie Steve's hands. She could feel the blistering fury emanating from him as he stood, rigid, waiting to be freed, and she leaped back as he whirled upon her menacingly, his wrath exploding.

"Now you're going to wish you'd gone with him, damn you!"

He lunged for her.

Chapter 6

Raven quickly scrambled away and up on the rock cropping where the Lipan had hidden. Steve was right behind her, but she was wearing moccasins, which made her sure-footed, enabling her to feel for a grip with her foot, while he slipped and slid in his boots.

He yelled in fury, "You lied about how you came by the mustang, claiming you're the only one who can ride him. Hell, you probably stole him from an old lady who rode him to church every Sunday."

Raven kept going. There was no time to argue with him, and he was beyond reason anyway.

He slipped again, scraping his hand and cursing. "Damn it, get back down here or I'll turn you over my knee and give you the thrashing a lying kid like you deserves. And you're going to walk the rest of the way to the Sabine, you hear me? I'm not about to weigh my horse down in this heat by making him carry double. You didn't have to give yours away. I could have shot that blasted Indian right between the eyes if I hadn't been fool enough to let you give me orders."

"You probably could have," she yelled down to him, relieved the distance between them was increasing. He obviously knew nothing about rock climbing, because for every step he took, he slid back two. "So could I—with my knife—but why kill somebody if you don't have to? There's too much killing in this world. You must have a thirst for blood, Mr. Maddox."

"That's not so, but when it comes down to my life or somebody else's, I'll do my best to make sure they're the one that goes in the ground."

"You're still alive. I don't know what you're so mad about."

"Because he could have killed us, damn it, and also because I can't stand liars. What else have you lied about? You don't even know the way to the Sabine, do you?"

"Yes, and I'll get us there in good time. Trust me." She inched higher.

"If you do anything else stupid, so help me, I'll ride off and leave you. Now stop this foolishness and get down. You've got a long walk ahead of you, Little Crow."

At last Raven reached the top. Shading her eyes against the glaring sun with her hands, she could see Diablo galloping away. "I won't have to walk," she declared happily.

"Well, you're not riding double with me. I told you—"

He was interrupted by the sound of a long, loud, piercing whistle. Looking up, he saw that Little Crow stood with feet apart, head held high, two fingers of one hand at his mouth as he whistled again.

Diablo heard and gave one mighty buck and toss to send his rider hurtling through the air.

The Lipan hit the ground and did not move.

Diablo then obediently whirled about, and, ears back, nose high, dug his hooves into the earth to run as fast as his legs would carry him, straight back to where Raven waited.

With Steve watching, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, Diablo came to a stop just below the rock. Raven had climbed halfway down but jumped the rest of the way to land on his back.

Taking the reins, her face beamed like sunshine as she boasted, "When he hears my whistle he comes to me... and also bucks off anybody trying to ride him."

Steve was speechless.

"Come on." She kneed Diablo into a trot. "Let's get out of here. We don't have to worry about that Lipan, because he won't be moving around for a while, but his friends might be close by."

For the rest of the afternoon, Steve rode in back, brooding as he tried to convince himself it made no difference that he had been bested by a boy. They were both alive. Everything had turned out all right. Still, it needled.

It was dark when they stopped for the night. Raven remembered where there was a small pool made from an underground stream and wanted to camp there. She had not had a chance to bathe since they had left the fort and looked forward to slipping quietly into the cool water once Steve fell asleep.

Still irritable, Steve dug down into his saddlebag and took out a canteen of whiskey he kept for times when he needed a drink. This was one of them.

Raven licked her finger and held it to the sky. "There's no wind and plenty of clouds. Smoke would blend in with them and not drift and smell. It's safe to have a small fire if we cook quickly."

"Cook what?" He scowled. "I don't see a rabbit around anywhere waiting to jump on a spit."

"Maybe I can take care of that." Raven went to the mustang and unfastened the small bow and arrow she always kept laced to his neck. Her mother had taught her that Tonkawas kept their tools and other possessions to a crude and simple minimum. The most important weapon, however, was the bow and arrow, and Raven had practiced till she seldom missed. She had even made her bow herself, using the sinewy tendon from a bison for thread and strings.

She left Steve with his whiskey and grumbling and went a short distance to wait patiently for an unsuspecting rabbit to come hopping along in the moonlight. When one did, she felled him with a single arrow and then returned to camp to skin him and set him roasting on a spit.

Later, between delicious mouthfuls, Steve said humbly, "Little Crow, you were right. I'm sorry I doubted you."

Raven suppressed a smile. She did not want to appear to gloat and could sense he did not find it easy to admit when he was wrong. But, to his credit, he was willing to set things right between them, which was, in her estimation, the true mark of a man. She admired him for it and offered her own concession to making peace between them. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to tell you about my plan, but there wasn't time. I knew I had to get him out of there before he got suspicious."

"I understand." Steve held out the canteen. "You behaved like a man today. You deserve a man's drink."

She waved it away. "I don't like whiskey. I've seen how it makes some people crazy."

"A few sips won't hurt, and it will make you relax. We've had a rough day. We're both worn out." He continued to hold out the canteen as he went on to say, "I can't believe a young boy like you isn't eager to try it."

And since Raven feared he might wonder about it too hard, she took the canteen, tipped it to her lips and drank, then grimaced as it burned her throat, finally hitting her stomach like a hot coal.

Steve threw back his head and laughed as he slapped her on her shoulder. She instantly drew back. Thinking she did so out of fear, he assured, "You don't have to be afraid. Pounding somebody on the back is a good-natured gesture among white men."

"I just don't like being touched." She handed him the canteen. "And I really don't like your firewater."

"What
do
you like, a boy like you?" His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "You've got no friends. No family. No home. Just you and your crazy mustang, who obviously doesn't want anymore to do with people than you do. You can't have a very happy life, Little Crow."

She had learned in the past that the best way to steer the conversation from her was to respond to questions with one of her own. "What about you? Is your life happy?"

He thought a minute, then shrugged. "I guess so—till now. Frankly, it's not very pleasant being out here in this wilderness worrying over maybe getting scalped. I don't mind saying I'd rather be back in Alabama tending horses."

Raven seized the opportunity to try again to discover something, anything, that would reveal why her father was looking for her. "So why are you here searching for the girl you call Raven? You speak highly of the man you work for, but he must not feel the same for you if he would ask you to come out here, knowing you might run into danger."

"Because he's desperate to find his—" Steve caught himself just in time. The whiskey was making his tongue loose. He had almost said
daughter,
and that would be a big mistake. Little Crow might have proved he had spunk and grit and could think clearly in the midst of a crisis, but he had also exhibited how wily he could be. Steve had revealed that Ned was a very rich man, so it stood to reason that Little Crow would be sure to grab an opportunity to help some Tonkawa girlfriend claim to be heiress to the fortune.

"Find his
what
?" Raven managed to ask in a normal tone of voice, although her pulse was beating wildly. If he would say
daughter,
that would lead to other questions, and eventually she would pry the real story out of him.

"Never mind. We weren't talking about me or the reason I'm here, anyway. It's you I'm curious about." He took another drink. "But I suppose it doesn't matter, since we won't be together much longer. I think once we reach the reservation I'll try to hire somebody older who might remember Greer or the girl. You obviously don't—unless you're keeping something else from me."

"No, nothing." It had become so easy to lie since her deception as a boy had begun. "But you might have a problem finding anyone who'll help unless you tell why you're looking for her. You say you mean her no harm, but how can anyone be sure?"

"The man who sent me has business with her. That's all you or anybody else needs to know. If I succeed, everyone will realize she's in no danger."

He settled back, using his saddle for a pillow.

Raven knew she would get no more information out of him this night and was starting to think she would never learn why her father was looking for her. What difference did it make anyway? He had nothing she wanted, and she certainly had nothing to offer him. Steve could go back to Alabama and tell him his daughter could not be found, so he would let the past finally be as dead and buried as her mother and her stepfather.

With that resolve, Raven knew it was time to put her curiosity aside and return to her life, such as it was. She had never thought much about the future but supposed she should start. Sooner or later, someone would discover her pretense, and that could mean big trouble. Maybe she should go to Mexico and try to find work there. The vaqueros might not mind a young and capable girl helping them once she proved she could herd cattle and break horses like a man. And she would also let them know quickly not to get any ideas about her.

The fire was almost out. Smothering the remaining embers with dirt, she took her blanket and retreated to make her bed, as usual. Steve did not notice. His eyes were closed. He was worn out, as he had said.

She bathed in the pool but did not linger, fearing he might wake up.

At last she lay down, but, as on every other night since they had been together, she could not easily fall asleep. She knew having Steve so close was the reason.

Before she had become Little Crow, her experiences with men had not been pleasant, so she had not given them much thought as a woman. But she also had never met one like Steve, who made her feel as though baby birds were fluttering around in her stomach. Something about him seemed to warm her all over. Maybe it really was time for them to part, before she forgot to concentrate on passing for a boy and made a mistake that could lead to discovery.