Beneath The Texas Sky (5 page)

“I need to clean your arm if there’s time.” Bethanie could see his sleeve soaked anew with blood.

“I think we lost them, but we can’t spend more than a few minutes here.” Josh climbed slowly from the saddle, then staggered slightly from loss of blood.

Bethanie was by his side in an instant. Her arm circled his waist as she directed him toward the shade of a tree. “You’re still bleeding.” Bethanie’s brow wrinkled with concern. She watched him pull his hat off as though it were lead. He ran his fingers through shiny black hair damp with sweat. Tiny white lines of pain rippled out from around his mouth before vanishing into his beard. Bethanie knew he was weakening.

She helped him to a grassy spot under an ancient oak.
“Rest here. I can make a pack to stop the bleeding and prevent infection.”

Josh slid down in the grass and rested his back against the tree. The world seemed hazy, and he closed his eyes to clear his brain. He could hear Bethanie rummaging through her saddlebag. In what seemed like seconds she was back at his side. Josh looked up into her face, surprised at the depth of concern he saw in her deep green eyes. She cleaned his wound and wrapped it with a tight dressing made from her extra shirt. He felt her cool palm on his head, but her words seemed far away.

Josh could hear Bethanie taking the horses down the sloping incline to the water. Seconds drifted into minutes as he relaxed against the tree. He heard a rustling of leaves and awaited her return. The morning sun was already hot in the sky, warming his face. He thought of his home and a waterfall with cool depths he often enjoyed after a long day’s ride.

Josh bolted wide awake as a strong arm wrapped around his throat and the blade of a knife pressed hard against his stomach. He opened his eyes to see six huge Indians standing in a ring around him. They had approached so silently, Josh had trouble believing the men before him were real. They were Apache, and judging from their paint, all were seasoned warriors. He moved an inch toward his gun, but one buck reached swiftly to remove the Colt from its holster.

Josh’s mind raced for a course of action. He’d been in tight spots before, but never one this hopeless. He figured the only reason these savages hadn’t killed him immediately was that they planned a slow death for him. If he had killed their leader earlier, they’d let him die by inches.

Josh’s face filled with pain as he heard Bethanie approaching.
He hated to think what they’d do to her. A low moan rumbled in his throat as he strained at the iron-tight arms that held him.

“Bethanie,” Josh screamed. “Run!” A blow from a rifle butt silenced any further command. Josh’s mind splattered with red-and-white lights. Bethanie’s face lingered in his last conscious thought.

Bethanie raised her head when she heard her name. She’d been deep in her own thoughts. As she looked toward where she’d left Josh, the nightmare before her froze her progress. Only yards away stood six bare-chested savages. She’d seen Indians in Wild West shows and peddling wares around the streets of San Antonio, but the men before her were nothing like those she’d seen. The blood-colored paint streaked across their faces frightened her enough without the wild looks in their dark eyes. They stared at her like hungry animals stalking prey. Bethanie took a step backward, then she saw Josh’s body suspended between two of them. His arm was covered with fresh blood, and a cut ran across his left cheek. His black hair curtained his forehead and hid his eyes.

“No!” Bethanie screamed as she saw a knife touching Josh’s abdomen. “Let him go!” She ran with blind rage toward the men. Slamming her fist into the first painted chest, she fought with all her strength to get nearer to Josh. Another Indian grabbed her from behind and yanked her off his friend, throwing her several feet. Bethanie rolled like a doll, her hat flying off and her hair spilling around her in a frenzy of fire. She ended her roll with a thud at Josh’s feet.

Bethanie glanced up to see his bleeding face. He was slumped, only half conscious, between two Indians.
“Josh!” Her intended scream came out as little more than a whisper. Pulling herself up by his gunbelt, she tried again. “Josh, please answer me.”

As she realized he was beyond response, anger mounted within her and exploded like a fire in a leafpacked chimney. Bethanie twirled toward the men who were holding Josh; the braves jumped away from her in caution. They stared at her as if they’d just seen the dead walk. Their savage eyes now held a touch of curiosity and fear. Bethanie was confused to the point of panic over their bewildering behavior. Were they playing with her, testing her sanity in some wild game that included backing away before they would strike and kill?

“Josh,” Bethanie whispered as he crumbled to his knees beside her. “What’s happening?”

Josh pulled her to him, holding her head to his chest. His fingers threaded through her hair as he fought his way back to reality. “Bethanie,” he mumbled in agony.

After several minutes, Josh spoke. His words were low, forced out between clenched teeth. “I can’t pick up many words…but it’s obvious they are startled you’re a woman.”

The Indians’ voices began to rise. Two of the strange men moved toward Bethanie. She huddled closer to Josh, too frightened to breathe. Before she could react, each brave grabbed one of her arms and began dragging her down the bluff to the wooded area near the water. She screamed in fear, kicking madly at the two men.

Even in her panic, she heard Josh yell. He was fighting wildly as he cursed his captors. As blows rained on him, Bethanie heard Josh beg them with his last words to let her go and kill him. She struggled, but iron grips dragged her closer to the stream.

Bethanie screamed as the men pulled her into the water. One held her, while the other grabbed her hair and plunged her head underwater. He held her facedown
a foot into the muddy stream. Bethanie’s mind raced in panic as her lungs ached for air.
They’re drowning me!
Her brain grew dark from lack of oxygen as her. struggling stopped.

As if from far away, she felt the Indians pulling her up. They stood holding her until her breathing grew regular. Then, to her horror they dunked her again. Was this some kind of torture? They repeated the ritual over and over until her arms ached from fighting and her lungs burned for air. Each time they pulled her head up just as she began to pass out.

When Bethanie had swallowed all the water she could endure, the Indians suddenly stopped, and began dragging her back up toward Josh. She raised her head and, through dripping hair, saw Josh tied to a tree trunk. His eyes were closed and he made no movement. The men holding Bethanie loosened their grip, and she knelt beside Josh. The savages back a few feet away.

Pushing her wet, tangled red hair behind her, she asked, “Josh, are you all right?” She knew the question was ridiculous, for he was bleeding in several places, but she prayed he wasn’t already dead.

Josh’s dark eyes opened in surprise. “Bethanie,” he whispered, “what have they done to you?”

She could see the pain and dread in his face as he waited for her answer. “Nothing,” Bethanie answered, knowing he feared she’d been molested, “except try to drown me.” She pulled her hair back and squeezed water from it. Her clothing was wet and clung to her slender frame, openly revealing her gender.

The savages stormed around her like angry young bulls, arguing among themselves. They seemed to have no leader. She slid closer to Josh and pushed the blood off his cheek with her wet sleeve. She was trembling hard from cold and fright as she huddled, wishing he could place his protective arms around her.

“What are they arguing about?” Bethanie whispered.

Josh shook his head and turned to listen more closely.

After several minutes, a smile touched his bruised lips. He turned to Bethanie with a look of disbelief.

“Are they going to torture us or kill us?” Bethanie whispered, tears of helplessness in her eyes.

“Neither,” Josh smiled softly. “They’ve decided that you’re a sign from the gods. None of them have ever seen red hair. They weren’t trying to drown you; they were trying to get the color out of your hair.”

“Well, why are they arguing?” she asked.

“One wants to scalp you. The others think it would be bad medicine.” Josh smiled.

As Bethanie watched in fear, one brave pulled his knife and moved toward her. His face was serious and his savage stare never left her face. Bethanie closed her eyes as he stepped in front of her. He pulled a wet lock free from the mass and cut it.

Bethanie looked up as the Indian moved away, waving her hair like a trophy between his fingers. The others followed him into the woods. Minutes later, Bethanie heard horses thundering off. She sat frozen, trying to control her breathing. She could not believe her luck. All her life she had hated having red hair, and now it had saved her life.

“Untie me, Bethanie.” Josh was thrashing, trying to pull free from his bindings.

Bethanie jumped, as if she had forgotten his presence. She quickly untied his arms, then sat back cradling her knees and drawing into herself. Over the past months she’d learned to shut out the world when unhappy. This skill did not fail her now. She was only vaguely aware of Josh moving around her. The fright of moments before passed from her body as her mind went home. Her mother was sitting in their little kitchen, which always smelled of fresh bread. She didn’t think of the Indians,
or Wilbur, or the future. She wasn’t afraid; she was home. She closed her eyes tightly and traveled back to the childhood hidden deep in her mind.

Josh gently laid a blanket around her shoulders. “Bethanie, it’s all right now. They won’t be back.” His voice was soft with concern. He placed his arm around her slowly, testing her reaction. When she didn’t resist, he pulled her gently into a warm hug. “Bethanie, they’ll not be back. Bethanie, you’re safe.” He mumbled over and over as he stroked her hair like a parent comforts a frightened child. “I’ve seen full-grown men after a battle react this way. When life is too frightening the mind needs a little rest. You were strong when you needed to be.” He pulled her closer forgetting the cuts and bruises on his body and thinking only of her.

Josh’s arms felt warm and safe to Bethanie as she rested her head on his shoulder. His words were a relaxing melody to her. She remembered how angry he’d been at her when she hadn’t ridden away. His cry for them to kill him and let her be, still rang in her ears. As Bethanie allowed herself to come back to the present, she curled into Josh’s embrace.

Josh finally pushed her gently from him. “You need to change clothes.” He ran his hand over her head. “And comb that wonderful hair of yours. We were very lucky. I think once I get cleaned up, I’ll be almost as good as new.”

Bethanie stood up. She pulled her only other pair of pants from her saddlebag as Josh handed her his extra shirt. She smiled her thank you and looked for somewhere to change. The trees were not yet thick enough with spring foliage to offer much concealment.

Josh lifted his saddlebag over his shoulder. “You dress here where the sun’s warm. I’ll go down to the stream and clean up. Once I get all this blood off me I think I’ll feel a great deal better.” He touched the already-drying
cut on his cheek. “If it hadn’t been for your hair, we’d both be feeding the buzzards tonight.”

As Josh moved out of sight, Bethanie slowly removed her damp shirt and camisole. She rubbed his dry shirt over her skin to remove the chill, then quickly slipped it on. She pulled her old comb out of her bag and began fighting the tangles that fell about her shoulders. Her hands were still shaking from fear. She knew it would be a long time before she forgot the sickening panic, or Josh’s wild screams of protest when the Indians pulled her down toward the water. He’d fought like a wild longhorn trapped in quicksand when he’d thought the Indians were going to hurt her.

When Josh returned, Bethanie felt a warmth for him unlike anything she’d felt for anyone except her mother. As she watched him coming nearer, Bethanie knew she cared for this man she’d known only a few days. She felt a closeness between them that must only happen between those who share a brush with death. He seemed suddenly shy around her and for once couldn’t seem to find anything to say. She motioned for him to sit on a log so she could examine the short gash in his scalp.

Josh’s dark eyes studied her movements as she gingerly touched his scalp with a towel. “I think I’ll live,” he said lightly when he noticed her worried face. “If I died easy I’d have been gone a hundred times before…” His words lodged in his throat as he remembered her mother touching him with the same gentleness years ago.

“Josh…” Bethanie became aware of his nearness. “I want to thank you…”

“For nearly getting you killed?” Josh interrupted her. “You may regret leaving San Antonio.”

Bethanie knelt beside him, resting her hand on his knee. “I’ll never regret leaving San Antonio, Josh, no matter what happens.”

Josh risked touching her damp hair. “You don’t have
to say more. I think I can figure it out for myself…the problem you had there.”

Bethanie looked up and smiled. “Thanks for understanding and for making me feel safe. I believe you’d have given your life for me today. No one’s ever cared that much about me before.”

“Why not?” Josh answered as he continued to stroke her hair. “I owe it to you twice now.”

Bethanie cocked her head sideways. “I don’t understand.”

“Remember years ago during the first months of the war? You and your mother saved my life. I was half crazy with fever from a head wound and lack of water. Your mother doctored me and you gave me a drink.” His voice was low and he could not stop his hand from moving to her face. Tenderly, he ran his fingers along her jawline. To his amazement, Bethanie turned her chin into his palm.

“You were one of the Rebel soldiers?”

“I remember you asked me where I was from and then told me you had an uncle and aunt in San Antonio. Later, after I was free, I wished a hundred times I’d asked their names.”

Bethanie raised to her knees and pushed his hair back from his forehead. “We treated many men on both sides.”

She leaned closer to examine the thin line high on his forehead that told of a long ago healed head wound. Her breasts brushed lightly against Josh’s shoulder as she moved, unaware of the effect her action was having upon him.

Bethanie rocked back on her heels. “I remember many soldiers who were covered with dirt and blood.” She smiled. “Much like you were a few minutes ago.”

“I remember a beautiful girl.” Josh’s voice was thick as every sense came alive within him. She was so near.
He could smell her soft fragrance and feel her light, timid touch as her hand rested on his leg. Suddenly, he could bear the closeness of her no longer. “Bethanie,” he whispered as he moved toward her. “Bethanie.” His lips touched hers as he repeated her name.

Bethanie opened her mouth as if to protest. Her lips trembled beneath his touch as his hand drew her closer to him.

“Never have I wanted to hold anyone as much as I want to hold you,” Josh whispered. “Don’t pull away from me, Bethanie.”

Josh watched her eyes carefully, reading the expressions blended in the beautiful green depths. Her surprise evaporated into curiosity as he tenderly traced the outline of her mouth with his fingertips. Slowly, he slid off the log to kneel beside her, their bodies lightly pressing together as his lips touched hers.

Josh felt his kiss ignite a fire within her. Its flames spread from her satiny lips to each part of her flesh resting so invitingly against him. Shyly, she raised her hand to his chest. He felt her warm fingers brush over his shirt in a halfhearted effort to push him away. His muscular body didn’t obey her light pressure and she continued moving her hand as though she found his warmth beneath her fingers thrilling.

“You’ve driving me mad with your touch, Bethanie,” Josh whispered just before his tongue divided her lips and tenderly played with her mouth.

They swayed as dancers to the music of explosive feelings that were coursing within them. Josh’s arm encircled her waist to steady her and pull her closer to him. His body pressed against her from his thighs to his shoulders and still he felt the burning desire to be nearer.

When finally Josh was able to pull his mouth away, Bethanie rested her head on his shoulder. He could feel even the slight movement of her breathing. He moved
his face into the velvet of her hair and whispered, “I’ve wanted to hold you since I first saw you in the hotel.”

For a long moment they clung to each other, the brush with death lingering in their thoughts. Josh realized he’d never felt more alive than at this moment. His senses engulfed him into endless folds of new sensations. The air smelled fresh and seasoned with spring. He could feel the warm sun against his back and Bethanie against his chest. Her heart pounded next to his own, and her soft breath against his neck warmed like a southern breeze.