toward her.

She lashed out wildly, her fists pummeling his chest. He seemed to

barely notice her effort, and bent low to pick her up and throw her on a

blanket roll. She opened her mouth to scream, but he did not come close

to her.

He stepped back, watching her.

"This is not my wife. This is my sister. And because of her, you will be

safe from me this night. With the light we begin the ceremony that makes

her a woman." He smiled at the woman, and there was deep affection in

his gaze, but it faded when he looked at Tess again.

"It is an important ceremony, a religious one."

He turned and found another blanket roll. He had dismissed her entirely,

Tess thought. She stared from the war' riot to the young woman, longing

to bolt for the opening. Nalte was already stretching out comfortably on

his blanket.

The woman tried to smile at Tess. She patted the ground, indicating that

Tess should sleep.

Tess swallowed, keeping a wary eye on Nalte. She pulled out a blanket

and carefully lay down on it. Stretching out, she pretended to close her

eyes.

But she kept watching Nalte. When he slept, she would try to escape. If

she could return to the trail in the mountains, she could possibly find

Jamie.

Was he alone? she wondered. Or was Jon out there somewhere with him?

She was exhausted, and tears threatened her eyes. No matter how hard she

tried, or how she fought, she never seemed to escape the fate that yon

Heusen had intended for her.

Jeremiah and David were dead, and she could pray that Chavez was dead,

yet it had done little for her. She was where von Heusen had intended

she should be, and she was certain that men braver than she and far more

knowledgeable of the rugged terrain could not escape the Apache.

Nalte was finally sleeping. She rose very carefully and tiptoed across

the dry earth flooring of the tepee to the slit.

She glanced at Nalte again. His eyes were closed, his features immobile.

She started to slip beneath the flap.

A hand wound around her ankle, bringing her down hard upon the floor.

In seconds the fierce warrior had crawled over her. His eyes were ebony

in the night.

"You have courage," he told her.

"But you are stupid!"

"You speak of our savagery!" she charged him.

"You deal with the despicable Comancheros, you buy rifles and women from

them!"

"My sister is my only family," he told her in turn, "because the others

were killed. Killed by white men. Beaten, skewered, broken and left to

die. My mother died this Way, my sisters. Babies, little babies. I have

not brought you here to kill you. Not unless you force me to."

"You are holding me against my will."

He touched a long strand of her hair. He seemed reflective for a moment.

"You will come to understand me," he told her.

"You will learn our ways, and you will be happy here."

"I cannot be happy!" she told him desperately. "We are not savages!"

She shook her head, moistening her lips.

"No, no more so than we. But I am not what you wanted. I" -- "You are

more than what I wanted," he interrupted, and he was smiling.

"Now go back to sleep or I will forget that I keep a sacred vigil this

night."

"Nalte, please" -- "Go back. Now."

She felt the tension in his arms and saw the fierce glitter in his eyes

and she knew that his warning was not without good reason. Hastily she

retreated. She curled into her blanket, pulling it around her ears. She

shivered. She didn't hate the Indian, but he didn't understand that. She

was not repulsed by him, but she had to be free, for she was not part of

his society. She wanted revenge. She wanted yon Heusen hurt as he had

hurt her.

And she wanted Jamie. She was in love with him, and that hurt more than

anything else. If it weren't for him, she could bear anything that

happened.

But he was out there, somewhere. And she could never forget him.

Morning came, and the blanket was pulled away from Tess's shoulders.

She gasped and opened her eyes, expecting to discover Nalte, but it

wasn't him. Several women stared at her.

They spoke to her, but she didn't understand them.

They pulled her to her feet. She protested, but was ignored. Nalte's

little sister smiled at her encouragingly. She had little choice, for

the women set upon her arms and drew her along with them. They left the

tepee to enter the family clearing. The sun was just beginning to shine

down upon the camp.

Men and women were busy, moving around. Some cleaned their weapons,

others watched her with curiosity.

The women moved around with buckets of water or with bowls of food.

A soft word was said to her, and she was moved forward. No one was cruel

to her, but she couldn't have escaped the women who were determined to

escort her.

She heard the stream before she saw it, as they walked a trail that

brought them through trees and dense shrubs.

From the trail she could hear the tinkling melody of the water,

reminding her that she was very thirsty, and that there was a certain

personal necessity she had to take care of. She was glad to he with the

women, even though she flushed when they tugged at her buckskins,

indicating that she was to strip and bathe.

Still, she felt better once the water was against her skin and once she

had swallowed huge mouthfuls of it. She realized that the women were

disappearing between a bank of trees, and she was certain the trees had

to be the latrine. She followed them, and thought longingly once she was

done of disappearing into the brush, but' even as the thought came to

her, she saw that two of her keepers had come for her. Again, they were

not cruel, but the women with the ink-dark hair and the huge dark eyes

placed firm hands upon her and took her to the stream.

There they ignored her. It was Nalte's sister who gained everyone's

attention. Once she, too, had bathed, she was dressed in a soft, pale

buckskin dress with shades of yellow coloring on it. A yellow paint was

smeared over her face, and her hair was lovingly combed out and let

loose to fall beneath her shoulders. Necklaces were placed upon her,

beautiful pieces of beads and silver cones, and one rawhide strand with

a claw upon it. She smiled during it all, flushed and lovely.

It was her ceremony day, Tess remembered. And then she realized that she

had not been forgotten after all. A woman called for her from the bank

of the stream. She had no choice but to crawl out and let them stare at

her. They whispered over her nakedness and she flushed, backing away

when they would have touched her. Her pale skin was very different from

their own, she knew.

But it was her hair that seemed to fascinate them most--both that upon

her head and that upon her body.

They didn't tease her long, but gave her a new outfit to wear. It was a

soft, pale buckskin much like Nalte's sister's dress, but with no yellow

on it. It fell just to her knees. Her feet were still sore from her

barefoot treks over the mountain trails, and she had hoped that someone

would give her soft doeskin slippers to wear. But nothing was supplied

for her feet, and when she tried to ask one of the women, the Apache

shook her head. They were preparing to go back to the village, and Tess

was to go with them. Tess wondered again about her chances of escaping,

but she had heard that the Apache women could he every bit as fierce as

their men. The women were excited about the young girl they had dressed

so carefully for her rite, but their eyes were still upon her. She

walked along, weary and desolate, trying to focus her thoughts on her

hatred of von Heusen so that she wouldn't be able to fear her own

future, and to wonder desperately about Jamie Slater.

Her eyes were lowered, her head was down when they came into the

village.

She stumbled and looked up to see where she was going.

Looking across the compound she saw that four Indians were in curious

costumes with huge headdresses, obviously preparing for the rites to

come.

But the Indians were staring across the compound at a stranger who had

come among them. For a moment he looked very much like Nalte. Tess

narrowed her eyes, watching the man, trying to figure out why he looked

so familiar. He was dressed in buckskins from head to toe and he wore a

cap adorned with eagle and owl feathers. His hair was black and straight

as Nalte's, but worn shorter. Even as she stared at him, he turned

slowly, pointing her way.

She gasped, stunned to see that the newcomer was Jon Red Feather. He

smiled at her briefly, a sign of encouragement, she thought, then his

expression quickly sobered again, and he continued to talk to Nalte.

The tall Apache was dressed for the ceremony, too. He wore a fringed

buckskin shirt, buckskin pants, high, laced boots and eagle feathers in

his hair. He was also adorned with a turquoise amulet around his neclq

and silver studs and beads upon his bonnet and shirt. He was listening

to Jori Red Feather--and watching Tess gravely as he did.

Nalte nodded, and Jon let out a whistle.

Then Jamie rode into the clearing. He was in calico shirt, denim pants,

knee-high boots and a Western hat. He didn't glance at Tess, but lifted

a hand to Nalte. When he reached the chief, he slipped from the horse

instantly and approached the man, speaking quickly.

She felt as if her heart slammed hard again. ~t her chest. He was a

fool! she thought. He didn't know Nalte, he didn't know how the Apache

chief hated the white man, nor did he seem to realize the things that

had been done to the Apache by the cavalry. Fool! She wanted to scream

to him, but she couldn't breathe, she could only pray that Nalte

wouldn't slay him right on the spot.

Nalte shook his head violently.

Forty warriors suddenly drew their weapons, facing Jamie.

His Colts were around his waist, but he didn't make a move to touch

them. He spoke calmly once again, and Nalte called out something

sharply. Guns and war clubs were lowered.

Frightened still, Tess cried out, shaking off the hands of the women

around her and racing toward Jamie. She pitched herself against him, but

he caught her shoulders hard and thrust her away.

Thrust her away--straight into Nalte's arms. Her eyes widened with alarm

and fury.

"What in God's name are you doing?" she gasped. She couldn't move.

"Nalte's dark fingers were a vise upon her.

Nor did Jamie seem to want her. His eyes flashed upon her with dark

fury.

"Stop it, Tess."

"But" -- "Stop it! Shut up!"

"Damn you, Jamie" -- He switched into the Apache language, addressing

Nalte.

At the last, he spoke English once again.

"Nalte, may Jon Red Feather take the woman away so that we may speak

without interruption?"

"Speak without interruption!" Tess flared. But Nalte was nodding.

"Tess, come!" Jori called to her.

Apparently she didn't move quickly enough. Jamie reached for her arm and

thrust her toward Jon. He pulled her away even as she protested.

"Jon" -- "Tess, he's trying to negotiate for your return."

"They were going to shoot him! I had to do something." She tugged free

of Jon and turned back to watch Jamie, still talking with Nalte.

"What are they doing now?"

"Talking about prices."

"For what?"

"For you, of course," he told her with a crooked smile. "How can Jamie

pay Nalte?"

"Well, he can't pay him ... not very much, that's why he's arguing

that you aren't worth the price."

"I'm not worth the price!"

"Tess" -- Tears touched her eyes.

"He shouldn't he here to begin with! He must not understand Nalte"

"Nalte would have killed most men by now. He is seeing Jamie because he

knows about him, he knows that Jamie has always been fair. Tess, keep