Chapter One
Dawn, mid-August, 1881
Near Fort Grant, Arizona Territory
"But I'm not sure I want to marry the Lieutenant!" Elizabeth
Winters pouted as she leaned back against the bouncing seat of the stage coach and brushed
a stray red tendril away from her face.
Mrs Everett, her gray-haired guardian, mopped her sweating jowls and
glared at her. "My stars! Libbie, don't be difficult. Of course you're going to marry
young Van Harrington! Must I remind you that your inheritance is almost gone? Now, let's
hear no more and put a smile on that pretty face! We're about to arrive at the fort."
She would have to do as she was told, Libbie thought with a frown of
despair as the stagecoach pulled through the gates in a cloud of dust. However, what other
options did she have? Her rich parents had spoiled her and granted their only child's
every wish, but they were dead and her fortune seemed to have melted away. Since her
mother's old friend had become her guardian, Libbie seemed to have a voice in almost
nothing, because legally, she was underage. Now even her heavily mortgaged California
mansion had been sold to pay expenses. With increasing frustration, Libbie had reacted by
becoming as difficult as possible.
Now she forced herself to smile as she peered out the window at the
passing action of the parade grounds; soldiers coming and going, the orderly rows of adobe
buildings shimmering in the early morning heat. "I must say I like what I've seen of
Arizona Territory."
"Pah!" Mrs. Everett wiped dust and sweat from her beefy face
with a dainty handkerchief, "it's a savage land, fit only for savages! Lieutenant Van
Harrington must have been out of his mind to request an assignment like this. Thank the
heavens we're on to Boston tomorrow!"
The sun was just rising over the hills to the east, painting the scene
all red and gold and purple. Libbie caught her breath at the distant beauty of the untamed
landscape surrounding the fort as the stagecoach pulled to a halt with a jangle of harness
in the square of the parade grounds. Libbie brushed the dust from her green silk gown and
felt the confining heat of her corset and long petticoats. Like it or not, it had already
been decided that she would marry the wealthy young blue-blood late next spring when
Libbie graduated from Miss Priddy's Female Academy in Boston only two weeks before she
turned eighteen.
Maybe she could make the Lieutenant dance to her tune; men had always
been smitten by her beauty. At least, marriage would get her out from under Mrs Everett's
thumb. Although she'd only met him a couple of times, she remembered that Lieutenant
Phillip Van Harrington was handsome and he did write beautiful letters.
The rangy old driver swung down from the seat and came around to open
the door, slapping his Western hat against his leg, dust billowing as he opened the stage
door. "Here we are, ladies."
"My stars! What a God-forsaken place!" Mrs Everett snapped as
he helped her down from the coach. Then she turned sternly to Libbie. "Don't forget
your parasol! You mustn't take a chance on that sun ruining your skin."
"But I like the feel of the sun on my face," Libbie argued
with a haughty shake of her fiery hair.
"Libbie, ladies do not have sun-tanned skin, and the Lieutenant
expects to get a lady. Need I say more?"
Feeling both angry and helpless, Libbie sighed with frustration and
snapped open the lace parasol. In the times she had seen the sun-drenched skies of this
wild, fierce land as she passed through from California to Boston, she had come to love
the desert and the vast landscape she had seen from the train window. But of course, her
guardian was right; ladies were admired for their pale, delicate skin, and with her fair
complexion, she tended to freckle anyway.
Damn! Someday, she thought, and gritted her teeth, someday, I'll be of
age and then I'll defy Mrs Everett and do as I wish. No, you won't, she thought as she
stepped from the coach, the wedding is planned for a few days before your eighteenth
birthday. After you marry Phillip, he will make all your decisions for you. Well, he might
boss me, but he won't make me like it.
Even as she thought that, there was the lieutenant striding toward her;
mid-twenties, tall, handsome, and broad-shouldered with blue eyes under sandy hair and a
square, mannish jaw. It was only his pale mustache, his thin, tight lips, and his manner
that made him seem a little prissy, she thought.
"Ah, Mrs Everett, and Elizabeth, my dear! Did you have a good
trip?"
Mrs Everett wiped her beefy face and grumbled about the heat, but
Libbie nodded as he bent to kiss her hand. "Yes, Phillip, actually, we did, although
it is a long way from the train."
"Beastly country!" Phillip snorted, "Snakes and savages!
I can hardly wait to return to Philadelphia and civilization." Now he turned his
warmest smile on her pouty guardian. "Ah, so glad to see you again, dear lady! I'm
sorry about the heat! Arizona is hell for civilized people."
Mrs Everett simpered at him like a school girl. "It was made
agreeable only by the knowledge that you were waiting for us, dear boy. Isn't that right,
Libbie?"
"What?" Libbie barely heard her. A man had caught her
attention; a tall, big-shouldered, dark-skinned savage who leaned against the corner of a
nearby adobe building and watched her with startling blue eyes in his dark, square jawed
face. More shocking was that he was bare-chested, wearing only a skimpy loin-cloth,
knee-high buckskin moccasins and an interesting necklace of silver and turquoise beads,
set off by tear-shaped, black gemstones around his brawny neck that hung against his
massive, muscled chest. His black straight hair hung almost to his shoulders and a red
headband held it in place. She studied him carefully. He was prehaps three or four years
younger than Phillip, but already much more of a man than the lieutenant would ever be.
The savage stared at her in a bold, impudent way that sent a chill of
either fear or anticipation up her back; Libbie wasn't sure which.
Ndolkah leaned against the building and studied the haughty white girl
who stared at him with such frank curiosity. So this was the future wife of the snooty
Lieutenant's. Everyone at the fort had been talking of her coming visit as she passed
through from California on her return to school back east.
She was very beautiful and very young, Ndolkah forced himself to admit,
noting the early morning sun glinting off the red hair that peeked from beneath her
expensive hat with its sweeping plumes. The lace parasol partially shaded the pale
complexion. Her green eyes matched her fashionable dress and the bustle only accentuated
her small waist and the creamy swell of her bosom. Libbie, the Lieutenant had called her.
A better name for theflame-haired beauty would be Blaze, Ndolkah thought. Yet she was more
than beautiful; there was something about her that hinted that behind that lady-like
manner, she was also as rebellious and headstrong as a wild mustang filly. One thing was
certain, this beauty was too much woman for the prim tenderfoot lieutenant to tame.
Ndolkah smiled ever so slightly at the thought.
"Elizabeth," Phillip scolded, "what are you looking
at?"
She knew she shouldn't stare, but she couldn't take her eyes off the
virile, half-naked man leaning against the adobe building. "Who is that?"
Phillip turned to look. "That half-breed savage?" he snorted,
"Ndolkah, one of my Apache scouts; old Mac McGuire's son. Hey you, Cougar!" He
shouted and made a gesture of dismissal, "haven't you got work to do?"
Ndolkah nodded to the English translation of his Apache name; gave the
lieutenant a mocking half-salute and looked boldly into Libbie's eyes before turning and
sauntering away.
Libbie took a deep breath, unnerved from the frank appraisal of his
gaze, but she watched him go, his long-legged stride accenting the hard muscles of his
tanned, naked back. The nerve of that scout! His blue eyes had seemed to taunt her; almost
seemed to undress her with his look as he left. "Ndolkah," she murmured,
"what does it mean?"
Phillip made a gesture of annoyance. "Cougar, or so the Apache
tell me."
Cougar. Yes, that name fitted him, Libbie thought, watching him saunter
away with easy grace; tawny skin, muscular as a wild animal, moving with a powerful gait.
"He's an arrogant devil," Phillip snapped, "if he
weren't so darned good as a scout, and old Mac's son, I'd let him go, and I may have to
have him whipped yet."
"I wouldn't try that if I were you, Phillip," Libbie blurted
without thinking, "he looks like he could take you in a fight."
"What did you say?" Phillip asked.
Mrs. Everett's fat face paled. "Libbie said she's really looking
forward to tonight, didn't you, dear?"
Libbie sighed at her prompting. "Yes, of course."
Phillip beamed at the pair as he barked orders to some enlisted men
about handling the ladies' luggage. "Oh, yes, I did write you that we'd planned a
ball in your honor?" He took Libbie's elbow and they walked along the wooden
sidewalk, her guardian puffing in their wake. "There's not much excitement out here
at Fort Grant except try to keep the savages from attacking settlers. I'm still hoping to
get into a real battle and avenge my father's death." He smiled at Libbie and pulled
at the sandy mustache above his thin, tight lips. "I'm sure you'd be pleased if I won
a medal or two. If I'm lucky, I might get assigned to the President's staff."
"Isn't it tragic about the shooting?" Mrs. Everett asked,
puffing along behind them.
"Yes," Phillip flung over his shoulder. "If Garfield
doesn't survive his wounds, I guess I can kiss that promotion good-bye."
"Really, Phillip," Libbie said before she thought, "you
might show a little compassion for the President! After Lincoln, I'm sure the country
thought we'd never have another assassination attempt."
Mrs Everett poked her in the back again; hard. "We'd be thrilled
if you won some medals, wouldn't we, Libbie?"
Libbie gritted her teeth and smiled prettily at him from under her
parasol. "Of course, Phillip; every woman loves a hero."
Behind her, Mrs Everett said, "and they'd look so good on your
uniform in the wedding."
He threw a smile at the woman over his shoulder. "By then, I hope
to be transferred back to Washington whether the President survives or not."
"My Stars! How exciting!" The dowager fanned herself as she
puffed along, "isn't that exciting, Libbie?"
"Hm? Oh, yes," Libbie said, stifling a yawn. "Somehow, I
was hoping we'd stay out here. This is beautiful country; wild and untamed and
savage." In her mind's eye, she saw the half-naked scout and the intimate way his
blue eyes had assessed her. His bold gaze had said: I want to possess you; to strip away
all that civilization along with that green silk dress.
"Ye Gods, my dear, you must be joking!" Phillip snorted and
patted the hand looped through his arm. "No civilized person would want to live out
here; only the Apache feel at home in this wild country."
In her mind's eye, she saw the Apache scout galloping across this
sun-splashed wilderness; uncivilized, untamed and free. In her imagination, he reached for
her, swung her up on his pinto stallion and galloped away with her.
"Elizabeth, are you all right?" Phillip peered anxiously at
her as they paused on the sidewalk. "your face is flushed."
Oh dear God, if he should even guess at what she'd been thinking. . . .
"It's this blasted heat," Mrs Everett said behind them,
"and Libbie is such a delicate, high-strung lady. Thank goodness I brought some
smelling salts!"
Smelling salts? What she needed was to get out of this corset and long
petticoats, Libbie thought. "I'm fine." She gave her escort a haughty shake of
her head.
"Here we are." Phillip paused in front of an adobe building
and opened the door. "I'm afraid this is the best we have to offer; not good enough
for real ladies, but I'm afraid it will have to do." He stepped aside so they could
enter.
Mrs. Everett beamed up at him, still fanning herself with a lace
hankie, "You're such a dear boy! I knew I was making the right decision when I
introduced you two at that Christmas ball!"
Phillip took her beefy hand and kissed it. "And let me assure you,
sweet lady, that I will never forget the favor you did me in doing so! When I marry
Elizabeth, there will always be rooms for her guardian at our home."
"Go along with you, Lieutenant." Mrs Everett giggled like a
school girl as they entered and looked around.
It was much cooler inside the thick adobe walls. The room was primitive
in its furnishing; a pair of beds, a chest, several chairs and a Navaho rug spread on the
wood floor. There was a big tin tub in the corner and Libbie looked toward it with
longing.
The soldiers had followed and now put the luggage down. The lieutenant
dismissed them curtly and they saluted and left. Libbie had a distinct feeling that the
lowly soldiers didn't like the young aristocrat any better than Cougar did, but they
weren't arrogant as he had been.
"Now, Elizabeth, dear," Phillip bustled about, opening the
windows, "I'll have a girl sent over with food and bath water. You two can rest until
this evening."
"Oh, but I don't want to rest," Libbie protested as she
closed her parasol with a snap. "I want to see as much as possible; maybe go
riding."
"But there's nothing to see!" Mrs. Everett looked aghast.
"Damn it, You don't have to go," Libbie said. Her patience
with the woman was wearing thin.
"Libbie!" Her guardian gasped, "what on earth will
Phillip think about a girl who swears? Can't you say 'darn it,' or "drat,' or
something?"
"I say what I mean," Libbie answered with a toss of her fiery
curls.
"Never mind, dear Mrs. Everett," Phillip's thin lips forced a
smile. "I'm sure when we're wed, I can tame the lady and teach her proper
behavior."
Tame the lady. Damn it, she didn't want, didn't intend to be tamed.
Libbie looked at Mrs. Everett's stricken face, remembered their financial
situation. With a sigh, she turned her most charming smile on the wealthy young officer.
"I would love to go riding. I do ride very well, Phillip."
He took out his handkerchief and mopped his face. "Ye Gods!
Really, my dear, Mrs Everett is right; there's nothing to see but desert and hills and
savages."
She favored him with her most pretty pout. "I must warn you that
I'm quite spoiled, Phillip; Daddy did that. I usually get what I want- -"
"I can indulge you a little now, my dear," Phillip frowned,
"but of course, when we're married, I'll expect unquestioned obedience as any husband
would."
When we're married. Libbie sank down on a chair and took off her hat.
She barely understood what it was a married couple did in bed, but she was certain it was
awkward and embarrassing. The more she thought of Phillip taking off her nightdress and
kissing across her breasts with his thin, prim mouth and that wispy mustache, the more she
was sure she wouldn't like it at all.
"My stars!" said Mrs. Everett, "Libbie looks
faint."
Phillip came over to her chair. "My dear?" He took her hand
and rubbed it anxiously. "are you sure you'll be all right?"
His hands were as pale and delicate as her own, Libbie thought and
imagined the Apache scout's dark, big hands. They would be strong and hard. She had a
sudden vision of his full, sensual lips kissing her breasts. She felt an unexpected surge
of excitement and took a deep breath. "Mrs. Everett is right, Phillip, I'm tired and
need some rest."
"Fine." Phillip backed toward the door.
"However, I'd still like to go riding later this morning."
Libbie stood up. "I wish I didn't have to use a sidesaddle."
"Libbie!" Mrs. Everett rolled her eyes, "you mustn't
shock young Phillip with your jokes."
"I'm not joking," Libbie pouted.
The lieutenant paused at the door. "Of course you are, my
dear." He used the smug tone of a condescending father to a not very bright child.
"Very well, I'll bring horses over about ten and we'll go riding. However, we won't
get too far out of sight of the fort. There's a lot of unrest among these savages right
now, and you'd be a delicious prize to any of those bucks."
Mrs. Everett gasped at the image his words presented, but Libbie felt
an unaccustomed thrill run through her. She led a deadly dull, very confining lifestyle
and the thought of forbidden adventure made her smile. "Thank you, Phillip."
He smiled, and bowed. "Ten o'clock it is then. I'll send a girl
with food and bath water."
Libbie watched him walk away from the door. He might be handsome, but
even the way Phillip walked was uptight.
Mrs. Everett sighed with relief and closed the door. "My stars!
What on earth were you thinking, young lady?" she snapped as she turned on Libbie,
"The Van Harringtons have a high position in Philadelphia society; Phillip will marry
a girl only if he thinks she is a real lady and as blue-blooded and proper as he
himself."
"He's a prissy prig," Libbie frowned as she began to unbutton
the green silk.
"But he's a rich prissy prig," Mrs. Everett said as she came
over to help Libbie with her dress. "I went to a lot of trouble arranging to come by
here on the way back to Boston so he could be reminded of how pretty you are. Phillip Van
Harrington is quite a catch, my dear, and the only son of a prominent Philadelphia society
leader."
"I don't care," Libbie sighed and stood up so her guardian
could unhook the back of the green silk gown and begin to unlace her corset.
"You will care when you're out of money, Elizabeth Winters,"
The dumpy lady huffed as she struggled with the laces. "Now that we've sold your
parent's home in California, that money should last less than a year, considering the
fancy wedding we'll have to put on. But by then, we'll be into the Van Harrington wealth
and won't have to worry any more."
"I'm not worried," Libbie protested, "Money isn't
important to me; freedom is."
"Easy to say when you've always lived in the lap of luxury,"
the other scolded, "but I haven't. As your mother's close friend, I'm trying to look
after your best interests."
"My inheritance seems to have just melted away in the six years
since their deaths in that railroad mishap," Libbie thought aloud. "I thought
Daddy told me I would have plenty to keep me in the lap of luxury the rest of my
days."
"Well, your father misfigured." She didn't look at Libbie as
she began to unpack their luggage. "Expenses are higher than expected. Besides, it
costs a fortune to keep you in that fancy Boston school." She sounded defensive and
angry.
Why was the plump woman so upset?
"You didn't even ask me if I wanted to go to Miss Priddy's
Academy, you just enrolled me." Libbie stepped out of her dress.
"You are not only spoiled, you are unappreciative!" Mrs.
Everett took the gown, shook it and hung it up without looking at Libbie. "Besides,
it takes a lot to live the way we live; that's all."
"That's your choice; not mine," Libbie complained.
"Except for horseback riding, my life is dull, dull, dull! And I don't care a fig
about fine clothes, society balls, and I hate living back east!"
"You could at least think of me," her guardian fanned her
damp face with a kerchief, "and if you weren't so silly and immature, you would care
about all the good things money can buy. Don't let young Phillip see how spoiled and
headstrong you are, or even your beauty might not be enough to cinch this deal. Remember,
you might not get another chance at such a fine catch!"
Libbie whirled around. She started to answer that Mrs. Everett seemed
more interested in her own comfort and standard of living than Libbie's happiness, decided
she was wasting her time.
"Now, what are you pouting about?" her guardian demanded.
"Nothing," Libbie said, and bit back a torrent of anger. At
seventeen, she was underage and helpless; Mrs Everett had complete control and would until
she handed her ward over to Phillip on the wedding day. Libbie would never get to make any
decisions on her own; she was powerless to do anything but sulk and make life difficult
for those who commanded her life.
"That's more like it." Mrs. Everett brushed a wisp of gray
hair back into her bun and began to shake out clothes and hang them up. "By the way,
I saw the way you stared at that half-naked savage with such boldness, it's a wonder your
fiance' didn't take offense."
"I wasn't staring."
"Yes, you were. Proper ladies keep their eyes downcast."
"Then it's a wonder more of them don't collide with walls and
furniture," Libbie snapped.
"Don't get smart with me, young lady!" Her voice was as stern
as her plain face as she returned to her unpacking. "We came by the fort just to
dangle you like a carrot in front of the Lieutenant's nose to remind him what a prize he's
going to get next spring when you graduate."
"Damn it, I don't want to be a prize!" Libbie complained,
flopping down on the bed, "I want to laugh every time I think of what it will feel
like on our wedding night when he takes my nightgown off. His mustache will tickle."
Mrs. Everett paused and gasped, plump hand to her throat. "My
stars! Such thoughts from an innocent girl! I'm frankly appalled! Remember that a woman is
expected to do her duty in her husband's bed. Give him some heirs as quickly as possible
and think of the money and prestige that goes with the union; that's the most a girl can
expect."
"But I want more than that," Libbie insisted, "I expect
him to make me want him to take off my night dress, to thrill me with his kisses- -"
"You must stop reading those trashy romance novels those naughty
girls hide under their mattresses at Miss Priddy's," the lady scolded, shaking her
finger in Libbie's face. "What's really important is making a secure match so we'll
both have comfort the rest of our days."
"But I want love and excitement; and most of all, freedom!"
Libbie's green eyes blazed.
"Then you expect too much," the other shrugged,
"especially for women of your social class- -"
They were interrupted by a knock at the door and Mrs. Everett turned
and called out. "Yes?"
"Your breakfast, Senora," a woman's voice called, "and
some bath water."
The plump matron opened the door and gestured. "Bring it in."
A pretty Indian girl entered with a tray. Libbie rolled over on the bed
to stare at the girl and smiled, "Hello."
But the girl glared at her. "I am Shashke', your maid."
Libbie nodded and watched her. The Indian girl was about Libbie's own
age; maybe seventeen or so, but dark and her drab clothes hid a voluptuous body. A bright
red flower was tucked in her black hair. Now why would the girl frown at her?
Libbie watched the girl set up a breakfast tray. "Is Shashke' an
Apache word?"
"Yes." The sultry girl did not smile. "I am named for
the month I was born; whites call it January."
"You are very pretty," Libbie smiled.
The girl scowled. "My husband thinks so."
Mrs. Everett hissed at Libbie under her breath. "Don't be so
democratic to the help; it isn't seemly for a lady. You," she addressed the Apache
girl in a loud command, "get on with your work."
Libbie was embarrassed by her guardian's behavior, but she kept silent.
She sat on the edge of the bed and Mrs. Everett drew up a chair. There was steaming strong
coffee, fresh oranges, and warm tortillas with scrambled eggs and fried pork covered with
spicy hot sauce. Libbie thought the food delicious and dug in with gusto while her
guardian complained about the peppery fare. The hostile Apache girl said nothing as she
filled the tub with buckets of hot water carried in from a cart outside.
Libbie finished her food and pushed her plate away, curious about the
Apache girl. "Have you worked at the fort long?"
The girl paused, eyeing her sullenly. "Not too long. My people are
camped to the south of the fort."
"Libbie," Mrs. Everett reminded her, "you shouldn't talk
to the servants, you're interfering with the girl doing her job."
"No, I'm not," Libbie said, ignoring the other's snooty tone.
The Indian girl finished filling the tub and frowned at Libbie.
"You are as Ndolkah said, very beautiful," Shashke' admitted grudgingly and her
dark eyes shone with anger.
"Thank you," Libbie answered, still puzzled by the dark
beauty's hostility. So this was the scout's woman. Perhaps the Apache girl had seen the
way her half-breed husband had looked at Libbie as she got off the stage. Or maybe someone
had seen it and told Shashke'. A feeling passed over Libbie at the thought of the virile
scout holding Shashke', touching her with the hot intimacy his gaze had hinted at as they
swept over Libbie in such frank appraisal.
She had a sudden vision of the pair locked together in a frenzied
mating, the dark Apache beauty racking her nails across Cougar's muscled back in
passionate fulfillment, his eager mouth on the Apache girl's breast. The hot images
troubled Libbie. To clear away her thoughts, she asked, "Will you be at the dance
tonight?"
The girl hesitated, then smiled, but there was no mirth in her face.
"Of course. Someone has to serve the punch and clean up after the white peoples'
dinner."
"You arrogant wench!" Mrs Everett rose to snap at the Apache
girl, "get out of here before I report how uppity you are!"
Shashke' turned and fled out the door.
Libbie frowned at the other. "There was no need to do that."
"That Injun wench was forgetting her place!" The guardian
shrugged as she went over to the luggage, began to arrange Libbie's fancy soaps and
delicate undergarments on a chair. "Almost as arrogant as that Injun buck this
morning. How dare him stare at you that way!"
"I didn't notice," Libbie lied. She had a sudden memory of
the Apache scout with his arrogant smile and the hunger in those strange blue eyes as if
he'd like to grab her, rip her dress away and take her right there in the hot sand under
the dazzling Arizona sun. "I'm sure you misread his intentions."
"Hah! An idiot could have seen what he was thinking as he looked
at you. No wonder his squaw is so annoyed; she's jealous. Imagine the effrontery of that
savage thinking about you with lust- -"
"Oh, please, you exaggerate." Libbie began to take off her
corset and lace pantalets, slipped into the tub of steaming water with a satisfied sigh.
She closed her eyes and leaned back in the tub, feeling the warmth against her skin and
remembering the way Cougar's eyes had caressed her with heated emotion.
"Everybody knows Injuns can't be trusted," the other said as
she bustled about, getting out fresh lace underthings for Libbie.
"Don't be silly, Mrs. Everett, these Indians work for the
whites."
"That one scout looks like he wears no man's collar," the
other predicted dourly.
That was what had been so fascinating about him, his arrogant
independence, and his rugged masculinity, Libbie thought, but of course she dare not say
that. Instead, she began to take down her long fiery hair so she could wash it and
wondered idly what it would feel like to have a man tangle his fingers in her locks and
pull her hard against him while his hot, demanding mouth dominated hers and his strong
hands covered her breasts?
Libbie closed her eyes a long moment, trembling with excitement. Mrs.
Everett was right; Cougar signified danger and forbidden excitement. Libbie wondered
suddenly if he would be at the dance? Abruptly, she began to look forward to tonight!
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