dust, then rose, pawing the sunset-hued air once again. Tess went flying

into the bushes.

She lost her breath and lay stunned for several seconds. David and

Jeremiah were shouting at one another, David giving the orders.

"Get the horse! Get the fool horse! I'm going for the girl."

Fear spurred her aching and bruised limbs into action. She managed to

rise to her bare feet and race down a narrow trail between rows of dry

bush. Her feet encountered rocks and stickers, and she gasped out and

tried to pray.

Despite the pain she kept running. She felt as if her lungs would burst,

as if her calves would buckle, but she kept going, desperate to be free.

But arms suddenly swept around her legs, and she plunged forward into

the dirt. Mouthfuls of it seemed to choke her and fill her nose. She

gasped and choked and wheezed and finally managed to open her eyes.

David sat atop her, straddling her. He was still wearing a breech clout

and streaked theatrical paint, but he had discarded his black braided

wig. His own reddish hair looked strange against the melted bronze

paint, but matched the blood-red welts she had drawn across his face. He

wasn't much past his early twenties, and might even have been halfway

attractive if his way of life had not done things to his face and his

eyes. Both were cold, and there was a permanent twist of dissatisfaction

about his jaw. He smiled as he looked at her, enjoying her situation,

reveling in his power and in her misery.

She swung out again and managed to connect her fist against his cheek.

He swore and secured her wrists, then started laughing as he stared at

her.

"My, my, Miss. Stuart, it is a pleasure to see you this way!"

She was barely clad, she realized. Her chemise was dusty and pulled

high, leaving her midriff bare. And her cotton petticoat was rucked up

against her knees; her legs were bare 183 beneath it. As he stared at

her she felt sick.

She could see his intentions in his eyes, and she wanted to die. Not

long ago Jamie had whispered on the breeze that he thought he was

falling in love with her. And not long ago, he had taught her what it

was to feel feminine beyond belief, to know the beauty of a mutual

yearning, a soaring passion, all the sweet and fascinating things that

should be shared between a man and a woman. Not long ago. And now this

horrible man with blood on his hands was looking at her and laughing.

"I always did want to get to know you better, Tess!" he assured her.

He lowered himself against her. She twisted wildly, hating the feel of

his greased flesh, despising him. He tried to find her lips. She twisted

and thrashed and screamed, and still she felt him touching her.

"That's all right!" he hissed against her cheek.

"It's all right.

You'll come to like it soon enough. I'm real good. I'm real, real good.

I'll have you screaming in a way you just ain't imagined yet, honey. And

later on, you'll be grateful.

"Cause you're going to Nalte, one of the chiefs of the Mescalero Apache.

He's wanted a blond woman like you for a long time. They say he tried a

few raids to acquire one, but he kept coming up with brunettes. Our

Comanchero friends promised him a beautiful young blond white woman.

Nalte is tough, Miss. Stuart. You'll be real glad that I initiated you

into this ..."

He tried to secure both her wrists with one hand while he spoke. Tess

fought him like a wildcat, delaying his purpose but losing her strength

quickly.

Nalte? An Apache? Then the Comancheros were the delivery men. Von Heusen

was dealing with the Comancheros, and the Comancheros were dealing with

the Apache. She would be safe from the Comancheros. Because she was

meant for the Apache!

But she wasn't safe from David. She sobbed as she fought to free her

wrists. She threw his weight from her hips, but he seemed to enjoy

feeling her move against him. She twisted and sank her teeth into his

fingers.

He shouted out in pain and sat hard on her, plunging his fingers into

his mouth and stating at her murderously. Then his palm connected

sharply with her cheek, and the world seemed to spin. His hands were

upon her, upon her breasts, tugging at her petticoats.

"No!" she screamed in desperation and horror. But there was no one to

help her out here. Jamie was by the river, dead. The vultures might well

find his body before anyone else could.

David's hands were upon her, and he was tugging on her clothes. He was

about to violate the only beauty she had ever really dared to reach out

and hold.

"Get off her!" someone suddenly roared. And David was plucked away from

her.

Tess crawled quickly backward on her elbows. Her heart soared as she saw

that David and Jeremiah were involved in a fistfight with one another.

David was swinging and screaming at the same time.

"What the hell's the matter with you, Jeremiah? You can have your damned

turn when I'm done" -- "No! Von Heusen said no! He promised the chief an

in- noeent woman " -- "What do you think she was doing by the river with

Slater?"

"I don't know anything! I saw the girl washing her face, and I saw

Slater going for a swim. That's all I saw. Von Heusen promised the

Comancheros an innocent. And he made us swear not to touch her. I'm not

getting my balls shot off for your entertainment, and that's a damned

fact."

"I give the orders here" -- "Von Heusen gives the orders here!"

Tess realized that she was just staring at them. They were fighting like

madmen and not paying the least bit of at ten- 185 finn to her, and she

was just staring at them. She rolled over and stumbled to her feet. It

was time to start running again, before David convinced Jeremiah that

she was no innocent and that no one would ever know if the two of them

used her, too.

She hadn't gone three steps before fingers laced into her hair, dragging

her back. She gasped and sobbed, swinging and flailing out, but she was

so exhausted, and in so much pain, that she knew that no matter what her

will, she could not fight much longer.

"Stop it! Stop it! Come on, Miss. Stuart, calm down, and make the night

easier on all of us! I won't touch you, and he won't touch you, you

understand? Just calm down." It was Jeremiah who held her. He was as

young as David, she decided. He had lanky blond hair and colorless blue

eyes, but they didn't yet hold that absolute cold, cruel streak that

touched David's.

He almost smiled.

"I'm going to get you something to wear. Then I'm going to tie you up. I

have to. But I'll get you water, too, and something to eat. We're not

going to touch you."

"Speak for yourself!" David snarled from a few steps away.

"We're not going to touch her?" Jeremiah snapped. "We're going to turn

her over to the Comancheres, just like we promised yon Heusen."

Tess didn't know who would win out. Jeremiah kept a firm grip upon her

arm and pulled her along. She saw that there was a third horse on the

trail, and that a number of rolled packs were tied on the animal's back.

Jeremiah kept one hand and one eye on her as he tugged at the bundles to

free them.

When they fell to the ground, he pulled her down with him to dig into

one.

"Here," he said roughly.

"Take this. And get into it. But if you try anything funny, I'll turn my

back and close my ears and David can do whatever the hell he wants.

Understand?"

She understood. She hadn't the strength to fight them. She needed some

sleep. She needed a little time to think and plan.

She snatched the clothing Jeremiah handed her. Apache, she thought.

There were fine, soft trousers and a traditional blouse of buckskin with

beadwork and tin cone pendants. She slipped into the bushes with the

garments.

"You stay where I can hear you!" Jeremiah called. "I'm here!" she

replied.

The buckskin garments concealed much more than the tattered remnants of

her clothes had. She couldn't believe she could be grateful to Jeremiah

for anything, but she was glad of the clothing. If--not if, when! --she

found her opportunity to escape, she would be much better able to

weather the elements.

"You still there?" Jeremiah demanded.

Tess tossed her torn undergarments into the bushes and stepped 'out in

the Apache attire.

"She should have had a skirt. No warrior trousers," David commented.

"She couldn't ride in a skirt," Jeremiah retorted. Tess stood quietly.

Jeremiah was the one to work on, she thought. He seemed to have a few

human qualities left. She lowered her eyes and stood still.

"Miss. Stuart, you come over here and let me tie your hands," he said.

She didn't move.

"Please ..." she murmured softly. "Well ..." Jeremiah began.

"Well, nothing! She's taking you strictly for a fool, that's what she's

doing!" David strode over angrily and snatched the rope from Jeremiah's

hands. He walked roughly toward Tess. Seeing his face, she almost

panicked.

She almost ran.

"Try it. I'd love it if you did!" he told her, his eyes narrowing. He

meant it. He liked the chase, he liked the fight and he even liked the

smell of blood.

She held out her hands mutely. David looped the rope around them

tightly, tugging hard on the knot. Then he caught her arm and dragged

her past the horses to the center of the little clearing where they had

paused. He shoved her down to her knees and warned her, "Sit! Just sit?

He looked over to Jeremiah.

"There's a creek down past the scrub bush over there. Nothing much. But

you can go get rid of that paint. Then I'll decide if I trust you to

keep an eye on her so I can do the same!"

Jeremiah hesitated.

"Don't you go getting' no ideas, now, David Birch."

"I ain't going to get any ideas! I want to get this blasted paint off,

and that's all!"

Jeremiah walked to the bundles and picked up a satchel of clothing.

He stared at David, then walked toward the brush.

Tess kept her eyes on David. He smiled as he watched her in turn.

"You think you're going to get around Jeremiah, don't you? Well, you're

not going to. I'm going to see to that.

You're going to reach old Chief Nalte, and then you won't have to worry

about writing those rabble-rousing pieces in that newspaper of yours

anymore, ever again.

You'll have lots of other things to think about." He cackled with

laughter.

"Lots and lots of other things. Like raising a whole little troop of

papooses, yeah." ,. Tess edge~l-around in the dirt, turning her back on

him.

He laughed all the harder, then he came forward and jerked her head back

so her eyes watered as they met his.

"I'm going to enjoy knowing where you are. Just like I enjoyed hearing

Slater's skull crush this morning. I really got a kick out of that."

She forced herself to smile.

"Maybe his skull didn't crush," she said very softly.

David gritted his teeth and yanked harder on her hair. "He's gone, lady.

Dead and gone. And you don't need to worry about that no more, either."

He walked away, leaving her in peace at last. In time, Jeremiah

returned, and he became her silent guard.

She hadn't the energy to say anything to him. They sat in silence while

the darkness fell upon them. When David re.

turned, the two men made a fire. There was cold chicken to eat and water

from canteens, but they wouldn't untie Tess's hands, and the effort to

eat suddenly seemed too great. She left the food, sipped some water and

lay down in the dirt.

She tried to tell herself that Jamie was alive. Any minute now he would

come rushing out from the bushes and kill the two men and take her away.

But he did not come. She closed her eyes in misery and tried to forget

the nightmare visions of the day.