Sunflower (49 page)

A sigh escaped him before he realized it. He watched her as she began to braid her hair into the long honey-gold rope she sometimes wore down her back.

“Leave it loose.”
I’m beginning to bark orders like a general,
he thought, and added, “Please.”

She did
as
he asked and picked up the brush to loosen the beginnings of the braid. He had not moved, his hands still locked behind his head as he lay reviewing every detail of tomorrow’s rendezvous.

“We are going with you, aren’t we?”

He lowered his arms, stretched, and then pulled her close to him. “Yes. But I have to tell you that I’m against it, Anja.” He looked down at her. “At the first sign of trouble, I want you to head out of there. You’ll be on the lead pack horse, so you’ll have to ride like hell and be sure Ruth is behind you.”

Her breath was warm against his shoulder as she spoke. “Nothing will happen to us, Caleb. You worry too much.”

“Ha!”

“Your hair is very soft without that grease on it.”

“You’re changing the subject again.”

“I think maybe I hear an argument coming, that’s why.” She ran her fingers through his hair, pulled it back into a queue, then spread it out against the pillow. “Will you cut it off when this is over?”

He nodded.

She sighed, “I think I will miss it.”

Caleb felt her left hand move across his chest before it slipped down to rest on his stomach. When he looked at her again, she was staring up into his eyes; her own were twin pools of aquamarine aglow in the light from a single lamp. Her lips were slightly parted, waiting, and he knew he could not resist her invitation. He dipped his head to taste the nectar of her kiss, his tongue slowly tracing the outline of her lips. He watched her lashes flutter as her eyes closed and she lost herself in his kiss. He rolled to his side and pressed himself against her length, capturing her face between his hands. Her arms slipped up around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair. Caleb took his time, savoring every sensation that rocked through him. Nose to nose, heart to heart, thigh pressed to thigh, they clung to each other, making no demands, just sharing the moment. As the kiss ended, Caleb pulled away to rest his cheek against hers and stare into the shadows.

“What did I do before I had you?” he whispered.

She hugged him close. “Rode around and caught the measles,” she whispered back.

“Anja, do you know how much I love you?” He reached up to tuck a stray lock behind her ear. “Sometimes I’m overwhelmed when I realize how dear you ace to me. I never expected to love anyone this much. I didn’t even know I could.”

“Just as I love you, Caleb. I never thought anyone could love me, not after all that had happened, and yet you came to me and brought this amazing love of yours ... and you share it with Kase. For that I love you even more.”

He put aside thoughts of the morrow as his fingers began to tangle in the satin bow at the neck of her nightgown.

“I thought you were tired,” she whispered, her hands replacing his to free the knot he’d made.

“Not anymore, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart? I never heard you say that word before.”

“A man in love says many things.” He pulled aside her gown and lowered his head to her breast.

“I like it better when you stop talking.”

And so he did.

Caleb rode ahead of the women as he led them over the flat terrain clotted with thick tufts of buffalo grass. Analisa followed directly behind, clinging to the rope halter of the pack horse, fighting to keep her balance. She rode bareback and astride, her skirts hiked up and bunched about her knees. A good inch of her calves showed white between the hem of her dress and the tops of the socks that extended above a pair of Abbie’s black shoes. Analisa had refused to wear her best gray kid shoes after the Sioux women had taken her old black high-tops. Abigail had stuffed a pair of her own with straw and handed them to Analisa, insisting she wear them. Over her worn yellow calico, she wore a dark shirt of Caleb’s that nearly covered her dress entirely.

Her hair was tangled by the incessant wind that gathered the steely gray clouds above them. She glanced down at a fall of hair that hung over her shoulder. Her gaze returned to it countless times that morning, yet she never failed to be startled by its brassy orange-red shade. Her honey-gold tresses had been rinsed with henna at Ruth and Abbie’s insistence; it had taken no little persuasion to convince Analisa that the color would rinse out easily and that she needed it to keep Hardy from recognizing her. She’d been adamant, stubbornly refusing to pour the henna concoction over her hair until Caleb threatened to leave them behind unless they hurried. Closeted in Ruth’s room long before dawn, the two women had collaborated on each other’s disguises, Ruth’s flair for the dramatic tempered by Analisa’s subtle restraint.

Careful not to lose her balance, Analisa turned to glance over her shoulder at Ruth, who was riding a mule. The mule’s lead rope was tied securely to Analisa’s lead, which Caleb held loosely in one hand. Analisa had sworn to Caleb that at the first sign of trouble she would lead Ruth to safety. She could not help smiling through her nervousness as she looked back at Ruth. Caleb’s stepmother reminded Analisa of a painting she’d once seen of a Gypsy caravan. Ruth’s curling, silver-streaked mahogany hair was unbound and hung in wild disarray about her shoulders. A silk scarf of midnight blue was wound about the crown of her head and tied behind her right ear, the ends left to trail behind. She’d refused to wear her glasses.

Caleb led them toward a hilly area that had appeared on the horizon. They’d been traveling southward since dawn. The river, always to their right, was well hidden by cottonwoods and thick growth along the banks.

Analisa let her gaze roam over the tall, broad-shouldered man riding before her, his senses attuned to every sight and sound around them. She knew Caleb was not afraid. He would never fear such a confrontation. The entire mission was well plotted, the product of much thought and planning. She sensed a hesitation in him, though, and a reluctance brought on by the fact that the others had forced him to agree that the women were a necessary part of the plan.

Although she realized the burden her presence placed on him, Analisa knew, too, that she could not have waited at home for Caleb to return. She had no doubt that this venture would succeed, for she never questioned his ability to bring Hardy to justice. But she did know that in this, as in all things, there were factors over which they had no control. Whatever the outcome, she was convinced that the meeting with the agent was necessary. She wanted Hardy caught and convicted as much as or more than anyone else involved. The fear and anxiety she had suffered over the years since her brother and sister were taken captive only stoked her anger at Hardy’s crimes. That he had preyed upon the hapless victims of similar tragedies made him less than human in her eyes.

Caleb slowed his horse and waved Analisa up beside him.

“We are nearly there.” His eyes searched her face as he spoke. “Stay behind me and try to keep your eyes down. I don’t think Hardy will be there yet, but let’s not take any chances. He might recognize you.”

“I understand.”

His eyes took in her face and the brassy color of her hair. “God that’s awful,” he announced and shook his head in disbelief. “Thank God it’s not permanent.”

“I know.”

“Are you scared, Anja?”

“No.” She answered honestly and knew he believed her.

“Good. You need to keep your wits about you.” He bobbed his head toward his stepmother. “You are supposed to be captives, remember. Be sure to tell Ruth not to look as if she’s enjoying this so much.”

Analisa nodded and smiled back at him.

“From here on out, no more smiles,” he warned, “and no more talking.”

“How much farther is it?”

“A couple of miles.” He pointed up ahead. “Do you see that low ridge of hills? Zach should have the men scattered just behind the rocks and trees at their base. We’re going to meet Hardy in the open, and we’re going to stay in sight of the men. Once Hardy pays me off, I’ll let him lead you a few feet away before I signal Williamson.” He reached out to caress Analisa’s cheek. His touch was warm and gentle and matched the blue fire blazing in his eyes.

“All set?” Caleb asked.

“Ja.
It will be the first time I see you arrest a criminal.”

“And the last.”

“Maybe.”

He signaled Scorpio with a slight movement of his knees, and the horse lunged forward, pulling Analisa’s and Ruth’s mounts along behind. They covered the two miles of open ground in no time at all, and before Analisa could even think of becoming frightened they had arrived at the meeting site. As they neared the low hills that rose from the open plain like lazy giant buffalo, Analisa could see Hardy’s squat, rotund figure seated on his mount in the center of a small grove of trees. Two of his men were beside him. Beyond him, large boulders and rocks lined the sides of the low hills. Smaller, gnarled trees clung to the rocky ground, their roots like twisted fingers clutching for a hold in the soil. She glanced up quickly, searching for some sign of the men hidden there. She saw nothing that even hinted at their presence.

While they approached Hardy she kept her eyes downcast and tossed her head forward, letting the hideous orange hair partly cover her face. She was unable to watch Hardy as he rode forward to meet them, but tried instead to steal glances at his two companions. They were his Indian police, dressed in dark blue coats adorned with an array of shining brass buttons and epaulets. Their legs were bare beneath the hems of the coats, and they wore long white loincloths and ankle-high beaded moccasins. One cradled a rifle in the crook of his arm while the other rested his upright, the stock against his knee.

The men reined in their mounts as the parties met and remained on horseback. Analisa turned around to see how Ruth had survived the ride. Ruth’s face was now streaked with dirt and sweat, which enhanced her disguise. At the sound of Hardy’s voice Analisa turned around again, keeping her head bowed. She told herself that in a very few minutes it would all be over.

“I brought two women. Did you bring the gold, Agent?” As Caleb spoke, he held his own rifle ready, the barrel aimed casually at Hardy.

The man chose not to answer Caleb, but instead drew a bag of coins up by its rawhide drawstrings from where it hung over the pommel of his saddle. He tossed it at Caleb, who caught it deftly with his free hand. He weighed it in his palm and then loosened the ties with his teeth.

He addressed Hardy in broken English.

“Plenty gold in here, Agent. I’ll make trade.”

“Where’d you pick ‘em up?” Hardy nodded toward the silent women.

Analisa listened to the exchange and wondered if they should be sitting like cattle awaiting their fate or arguing with the men. After all, she thought, if she were truly being sold to the agent she would indeed protest rather than sit idly by and watch the exchange.

Ruth must have had the same notion, for Analisa heard her cry out to Hardy in a tight voice, “My family will pay whatever you ask if you’ll only write to them!” Theatrical sobbing rode on the air behind Analisa.

Hardy spared her barely a glance filled with disdain and prodded Caleb again. “I said, where’d you pick ‘em up, boy?”

Analisa watched her husband’s fingers tighten around the lead rope.

“Near Fort Randall.”

“How long ago?”

“Three, maybe four days.”

“Funny,” Hardy mused, “I haven’t had word of any raids around there. Place would be buzzin’ with news by now if anyone was missin’ these women.”

“One don’t speak English. The old one talks too much.” Caleb spoke loud enough for the women to hear his words.

A sudden gust of wind swirled the dust around the horses’ hooves. Analisa pulled the shirt tight around her and noted the darkness that crept over the hills. Giant, splashing droplets began to fall around them. They slapped against the backs of her hands as she held the horse’s reins.

“If you’re satisfied with the gold,” Hardy said, “I’ll take the women now. I don’t relish getting soaked.”

He signaled one of his men with a wave of his hand, and the man rode forward to take the lead rope from Caleb. Without even inspecting the merchandise he’d purchased, Hardy rode past the women. The Indian tugged on the lead rope as he passed by, and the women’s mounts wheeled around to follow. Hardy’s second companion followed behind Ruth.

They hadn’t gone ten yards before Caleb called out, “Hardy!”

At the new, commanding tone in Caleb’s voice, Hardy drew his horse to a halt and half turned in his saddle. Sensing danger, he signed to his men, who swiftly turned their rifles on Caleb. Analisa’s heart stopped as she sat frozen and watched the exchange.

“I wouldn’t try it, Hardy.” Caleb’s clear, concise English rang out above the gathering storm. “I’ve got the barrel of this rifle aimed at your gut. Even if your men get off a shot you’ll be dead before I am. I’m placing you under arrest in the name of the United States government.” Caleb rode toward them, his eyes locked with Hardy’s. The man made no move to comply.