Even though she detested and loathed Mountain Jack with every fiber of her being, and knew he deserved to die, she just wasn’t used to seeing death up this close.
Young Major Klein’s death was the first she had witnessed. This time, Mountain Jack deserved to die. Yet she did not want to look upon the face of death again so soon.
“Thank you, oh, Lord, thank you, Chief Storm . . .”
Stunned by the sound of that voice, Shoshana opened her eyes wide in wonder. The evil scalp hunter was still alive.
She spun around and gazed at Storm, who still held the smoking firearm, then looked down at Mountain Jack, who had a strange twisted smile of relief on his face.
“I decided that it was not what I wanted to do after all,” Storm said, lowering the rifle to his side. “Why should I be the one to give this man a quick, merciful death, when he took so many lives in unmerciful ways? It is best that he be made to suffer the wounds the panther has inflicted on him. To kill him would have taken his pain away. It would have been too merciful . . . too quick.”
“But you fired the rifle . . .” Shoshana said, gazing down at it, then looking slowly up at him again.
“I felt that it was best to fire it, in case the panther was close by. The sound will frighten it,” Storm said, looking sternly down at the man groveling at his feet. “We need time to get this man away from here.”
“Where will you take him?” Shoshana asked, gazing down at Mountain Jack.
“To Fort Chance,” Storm said without hesitation.
“Fort Chance?” Shoshana gasped out. “Truly? You are going to Fort Chance?”
“Ho, and I want you to go with me,” Storm said, reaching a gentle hand to her shoulder. “It is best that we hand over this hunted man to those who will know what to do with him. He is a wanted man, hunted by both my people and the white-eyes. I would rather his final fate be decided by whites, not the Apache. If I give the pindah-lickoyee this opportunity, I believe they will realize, once and for all, how I long to have a permanent peace with them.”
“But you were going to achieve that by going to Canada,” Shoshana murmured. “Are you considering not going there now? Do you think those who are in charge in Washington will truly be swayed by this act of friendship? Will it be enough to make them respect your people?”
“I will still take my people to Canada land, but I feel that handing over the scalp hunter to them will assure that our people’s journey there will not be marred by possible attacks from the white eyes,” he explained.
“But if you take him to the fort, I must go with you, and you know I left a note that might not have been taken kindly by the colonel. Also, they might follow you to your stronghold,” Shoshana murmured. “I’m not sure about any of this, Storm.”
He took her hands in his. “I feel that it is best to allow them to see the truth between you and me, that we will soon marry,” he said softly. “If not, the colonel would always wonder where you were, and possibly decide to try to find you, even though you said in your note that you didn’t want to be found.”
“I still don’t,” Shoshana said, her voice full of emotion. “I want to just look forward, not backward. I’m afraid that if I return to the fort now, while George Whaley is still being prepared for burial, they will expect me to stay long enough for the funeral. How can I explain my feelings about him? Perhaps I should have shown them the scalp that I found in George Whaley’s trunk. Then they would understand.”
“It is not important that they understand anything but that you and I are going to be married and that you will live out the rest of your life as an Apache,” Storm said firmly. “I truly believe you should go and let them see that you are all right and let them know
what your future holds. Afterward, they can go on with their own lives, no longer concerned about you.”
“You do believe I should?” Shoshana asked, her eyes searching his.
“It is best that we clear the way for many things today by taking this man to the fort,” Storm said, glancing down at Mountain Jack, who regarded them with a look of horror.
“I’d rather you’d have shot me,” Mountain Jack said, his voice breaking. “Shoot me now, Storm. Put me out of my misery. I can’t bear to come face to face with Colonel Hawkins. That man hates me with a passion. He’ll surely torture me slowly before he hangs me, for he is a hanging man. He hangs any man he hates and can get away with hanging.”
“Your fate is what you have made for yourself,” Storm said, his jaw tight. “You will go to the fort. We will leave you there. Whatever happens then is nothing to me, or Shoshana.”
“Ma’am, tell him he’s wrong,” Mountain Jack begged. “Surely you’re grateful to me for not hurting you. You know I could’ve.”
“I know that if Storm had not saved me, I would probably be dead now,” Shoshana said. “I have no pity for you. As Storm said, your fate is what you have made it.”
Storm slid his rifle into the gunboot on his horse, then began gathering limbs that had fallen from the aspens. “We must lash together a travois and get out of this area before the panther returns,” he said, already laying the limbs out. “Come and help me, Shoshana. I’ll show you how. This is the only way we can get Mountain Jack to the fort.”
They worked together until the travois was large enough to carry Mountain Jack. They soon had him tied onto it and covered with a blanket.
Shoshana clung to Storm’s waist as they made their way down the mountainside, and then rode across a straight stretch of land.
This time Shoshana didn’t admire the flowers, or anything else. Her mind was on what lay ahead, and what she would say to Colonel Hawkins when he saw her with Storm.
She gazed down at her dress. It was the dress her mother had given her, the doeskin beautifully embellished with pretty beads of all colors. She felt Apache today and knew that she looked it. Even the soft, beaded moccasins on her feet were like those her Apache sisters wore.