He studied the fallen weapon.
"Not just a girl," he said through gritted teeth.
"An Indian. Comanche, from the looks of her and her knife."
Hearing the commotion, Danny and Thad rolled from their blankets and hurried toward them.
The girl gave a snarl like that of a ferocious animal and twisted free of Cole's grasp.
She stood facing these new strangers who studied her with a mixture of fear and curiosity.
It was obvious that she was prepared to fight all of them with teeth and fingernails rather than meekly give up.
"We don't want to hurt you," Cole said in English.
When she made no response, he repeated the words in a language Jessie and her brothers didn't know.
"You speak Comanche?"
Danny asked.
"Not much. Enough to get by."
He turned toward the girl.
"You understand? We don't want to hurt you.
But we're sure as hell not going to sit by and allow you to steal one of our horses.
Sensing that he was the leader of this group, the girl slowly faced him.
As she did, the glow of the fire illuminated her clearly.
Her dirty buckskin dress was smeared and stained with blood.
Fresh blood oozed from her shoulder and soaked her sleeves and lower arm.
"She's hurt," Danny said.
As he took a step toward her, she whirled and would have attacked him if Cole hadn't stopped her, It took all of his strength to subdue the kicking, biting girl.
When at last they lay panting and choking, Cole straddled her and held her arms above her head.
While the others watched in consternation, he tore away the sleeve of her buckskin dress.
He swore loudly, viciously.
The wound was deep and badly infected.
From the looks of it, it had been several days since the wound had been inflicted, and she had lost a considerable amount of blood.
"She must be half-crazy with the pain," he muttered.
The others stood by helplessly, staring in dazed fascination at the ugly wound.
"We have to help her."
It was Danny who broke the silence.
"She won't let you," Cole said quietly.
"She'd rather die than submit."
"Then we'll just have to force her to accept our help."
Danny had spent hours poring over every word of the medical book Cole had bought him.
Though her wounds appeared to be badly infected, he felt a strange sense of calm acceptance.
He'd dealt with Cole's wounds; he could deal with hers.
"I'll need your whiskey, Cole. Jessie, I'll need boiling water and strips of clean cloth."
"What should I do?"
Thad asked.
"You'll keep your distance," Cole said loudly, casting a meaningful look at the girl.
"Otherwise, this little wildcat will cut us all up for stew and have us for supper. I tell you, Danny, the girl will never allow you to touch her."
Danny gave no reply.
He was already spreading out a bedroll beside the fire.
Jessie gave a last look at the girl before hurrying off to fetch the necessary items.
Now that she was lying quietly, the Ix)or thing looked more like a wounded kitten than a wildcat.
But she had seen the way the girl had fought.
Wouldn't she do the same?
she thought with sudden insight.
If she were caught by hostile people, wouldn't she do anything to escape them?
But she and her brothers weren't hostile.
They wished e girl no harm.
They merely wanted to heal her wound before allowing her to be on her way.
NoWthey would have to find a way to convince her of their intentions.
With time and luck, they might be able to earn her trust.
As she set the bucket of water over the fire, she fretted over this latest incident.
They had brought a strange new enemy into their camp.
And added another element of danger to their already perilous journey.
Chapter Eleven
By the light of the camp fire, Cole laid the Comanche girl on the bedroll, then very deliberately drew his pistol, hoping to subdue her.
"You'll lie still, or I'll shoot."
He aimed the gun at her head.
If she understood, she gave no indication.
The girl watched as Danny assembled the items he needed.
When he knelt beside her, she sprang up, determined to escape or die trying.
In the confusion that followed, she managed to knock Danny backward and began scrambling over him to freedom.
Just as she was about to sprint, he caught her by the ankle, bringing her down on top of him.
With the breath knocked from her, she lay atop him, gasping.
Wide dark eyes stared into narrowed green ones.
Her breasts were flattened against his chest; her slender hips pressed firmly against his thighs.
For one terrible moment they stared at each other with a look of stunned surprise.
Before either of them could react, Cole's arm encircled her throat.
With his other hand he pinned her arms behind her back and lifted her off Danny.
"There's only one way to do this," Cole said through clenched teeth.
"If you're determined to help this girl, we'll have to tie her."
Before the others could protest, Cole produced a length of rope and bound her hands and feet.
When she was completely unable to move, he stood up, withdrew his pistol from his holster and calmly sat down on a nearby rock.
"All right, doc. Do what you have to."
Danny was visibly trembling by the time he knelt beside the girl a second time and bent to examine her wound.
For long moments he studied her dark eyes, wide and unblinking.
He picked up a knife and saw her eyes narrow fractionally.
With the knife, he slit the top of her garment and folded it back to lay bare the entire wound.
The flesh of her shoulder was torn and jagged, indicating a bullet.
As he gently probed, he saw the signs of raging infection.
"She was shot," he said to the others.
"Some time ago, from the looks of it. Bullet's still in there. I'll have to dig it out. Jess."
He motioned to his sister.
"I'll need your help."
Instantly Jessie was at his side, fishing out the hunting knife from the boiling water.
Seeing a leather strip about her neck, on which dangled a copper disk, Danny cut it away.
Instantly the girl cried out something unintelligible.
Danny pressed it into her open palm.
She snatched at it and curled it tightly into her fist.
"That's an amulet," Cole explained.
"It's supposed to bring the wearer good luck."
Danny wished he hadn't been so rough with the girl.
"She'll need all the good luck she can find."
As Danny probed, Jessie saw the girl wince.
Jessie laid a hand on the girl's arm and squeezed gently.
Though the girl showed n°further emotion, she kept her gaze firmly fixed on Danny's face.
Sweat beaded his forehead.
He knew how much pain his probing caused, but it couldn't be avoided.
Deeper he probed, then deeper still, until he felt the scrape of metal against the tip of the knife.
"Here it is."
He brought the tip of the blade below the bullet and inched it upward until Jessie could grasp it with her fingers.
Working quickly, he poured whiskey on the open wound and shuddered at the girl's sudden hiss of pain.
"I don't mean to hurt you," he murmured, knowing the Comanche couldn't understand his words.
His voice was low, soothing.
"But it's the only way to help you. Hold on a litt
le longer."
With Jessie assisting him, he cleansed the wound and bound it with clean cloth.
When he was finished, he dipped a cloth in water and began to sponge the blood and dirt from the girl's face and arms.
Throughout the entire ordeal, the girl had spoken not a word, nor had she permitted herself to display any outward sign of suffering.
Now, as Danny gently sponged her body, she watched him through a veil of dark lashes.
He brought the damp cloth across her forehead and down the slope of her cheek.
His touch was easy and gentle as he followed the contour of her jaw to her lips.
When he moved the cloth lower to her throat, he saw her swallow and wished he could swallow the lump in his own throat.
He looked into her eyes and saw himself reflected there.
Without realizing it, his own gaze softened.
A tear trickled from the corner of her eye, and she tried to blink 'back the remaining tears.
Instantly he touched a finger to the moisture.
Her eyes widened in surprise before she turned her face away in shame, avoiding any further eye contact.
"Untie her, Cole."
Danny's tone was harsher than he'd intended.
"She'll just run the first chance she gets."
"Untie her."
Danny wiped his knife on his pants and noted idly that her blood was the same color as the bloodstains left by Cole's wound.
There was no difference.
Their blood was the same, their pain the same.
"She needs sleep and plenty of it if she's going to recover from what she's been through. Our job now is to make her as comfortable as possible."
"She'll run, I tell you."
"I'll keep watch."
Danny's voice held a thread of icy determination.
Without waiting for Cole's response, he bent and cut the ropes holding the girl.
Though her eyes were wide and watchful, they showed absolutely no emotion.
"I don't want her to wake up and find herself tied like a prisoner."
Cole studied the boy for long minutes, then turned to watch the girl.
Her gaze never left Danny's face.
Cole nodded.
"I'll take the first watch. You grab some sleep."
He glanced at the Indian girl, who was still watching Danny as she straggled to tie the amulet about her neck once more.
Seeing the effort it cost her, Danny took the leather strips from her hand and tied them about her neck.
Her hand closed possessively around the copper disk.
"Rest now," Danny muttered, wishing the girl could understand him.
Because he wanted to reassure her, he added, "We'll hold off the evil spirits until you're strong enough to fight them yourself."
Jessie watched her brother flip through the pages of the book until he came to the information he was seeking.
Head bent, he digested the knowledge.
But when the Comanche girl moaned, all Danny's attention became focused on her.
With gentle touch and soothing words, he sought to calm her fears.
They had lingered two days here in the high country.
So far the girl had endured fever and chills and a persistent infection that would not give up its hold on her.
Though they all took turns sitting with her, Danny was never far from her side.
Day or night, at the slightest sigh or moan, he was beside her, whispering words of comfort, administering what little he had to fight her pain.
He had used an entire bottle of Cole's whiskey and had made poultices of herbs and cactus.
He had washed the wound with Jessie's lye soap, and slowly the pain and swelling had subsided.
Though the girl still cried out in her sleep, the worst was behind them.
There was no doubt she would live.
But the ordeal had left her too weak to travel.
Danny knew how eager the others were to be back on the trail.
When he wasn't worried about the Indian girl, his mind was troubled by thoughts of his pa, alone and hurt somewhere in this vast wilderness.
But his first duty was to his patient.
Until she could safely travel, Danny had no intention of leaving her here alone.
"Good morning."
As always, he greeted her softly before tending to her wounds.
And as always her dark eyes watched his every move.
Although she refused to speak a single word, she stilled whenever he touched her.
There were times he thought she could read his mind.
Danny knelt beside the girl and gently removed the dressings.
After examining the wound, he bathed it with lye soap and heard her quick intake of breath at the stinging pain.
"Sorry."
He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
"I know this hurts, but it's important to keep this wound clean.
Clean," he repeated, showing her the glob of yellow soap.
She gave no indication that she understood.
Her dark gaze was wary, watchful.
Danny probed the wound and was relieved to find the swelling down considerably.
"Good."
At his single word, her gaze lifted to his eyes.
So unlike any eyes she had ever seen.
The color of waving prairie grass in spring.
The color of water that lay in rock pools in the high country.
The hands that moved across her flesh were as gentle as the touch of the medicine man whose healing powers were legend among her people.
This white man, though barely old enough to be a warrior, was a healer of ills.
As Danny applied fresh dressings to her wound, his fingertips tingled when they came in contact with her skin.
He swallowed convulsively, and his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, nearly choking him.
What was the matter with him?
He'd tended every member of his family at one time or another.
But never had he felt as awkward and clumsy as he did with this girl.
He tied the last dressing and gave her an encouraging smile.
"You're doing just fine. By tomorrow, you'll probably be strong enough to travel."
She studied him in silence.
"Cole," Danny called.
"Explain to her that she will be free to travel with us tomorrow, or head out on her own."
When Cole repeated Danny's words in her own tongue, the girl kept her gaze firmly on Danny's face.
She gave no response to the words.
"Does she understand?"
Cole shrugged.
"Maybe. Maybe not. The Comanches think it is beneath them to converse with a white."
Danny thought he saw the beginnings of a smile tug at the corner of her lips.
But before he could be certain, she regally turned her head away and closed her eyes.
He stood for a minute watching her, then strode away.
He ought to be relieved that his patient was healing and would be able to take care of herself.
But the truth was, now that the danger had passed, he enjoyed caring for this Indian girl.
There was something special about her, something noble.
And though she firmly rejected all offers of friendship, he sensed that she trusted him.
These days of enforced inactivity had given Danny time to read his precious medical book.
Now he began to keep a journal of the wounds he'd treated.
If anything happened to him along the way, he reasoned, it would be good for Jessie and Thad to know how to treat any injuries sustained.
Danny awoke and lay quietly, listening to the deathly silence that lay between darkness and dawn.
It was as if the whole world lay hushed, waiting for morning.
It had been his turn to keep watch, and he had fallen asleep.
But even though Cole still refused to trust the Comanche i
n their camp, Danny was convinced that she would not harm them while they slept.
A soft skittering sound broke the stillness, and he tensed before turning toward the movement.
The Comanche girl walked slowly from the direction of the creek.
Danny was startled by the sight of her ethereal beauty.
While she had been recovering from her wounds, Jessie had washed the girl's clothing and had insisted upon dressing her in one of her clean shirts.
Now the girl wore her native dress, fawn-colored buckskin that molded her young figure and fell in soft folds to just above her ankles.
Danny watched as the girl bent and placed the freshly washed shirt beside his sister's bedroll.
Jessie didn't stir.
Next the girl walked to her own bedroll and sat crosslegged, combing her fingers through the damp strands of her hair.
Danny caught his breath at the sight of the raven tresses that fell below her waist.
The girl parted the hair neatly and began braiding it.
Danny lay quietly, drinking in the sight of the girl in her first spontaneous, relaxed pose.
Though she was small and slender, she had the soft, rounded contours of a woman.
His heart tripped over itself as he thought of the times his hands had nearly touched the gentle swell of her breast when he changed her dressings.
Without thinking, he sat up in order to better see her.
At his movement she looked across the glowing embers of the camp fire and met his gaze.
For the space of a heartbeat, he watched as she studied him without emotion.
Then she tossed her head, sending the silken strands dancing like a dark veil about her shoulders.
With quick, practiced movements she finished braiding her hair, then stood and walked toward him.
Kneeling before him, she took his hands in hers.
He was so stunned he could only stare silently at her.
In perfect English she said, "My life is now yours. If you wish me to be your slave, it shall be as you command."
"Slave?"
Danny was astounded not only by her command of his language but by the words she spoke.
Collecting his thoughts, he stammered, "Why didn't you tell us you could understand what we were saying?"
"It is as your chief said. It is not the way of the Comanche to speak to a white man in his language."
Chief.
So she recognized Cole as their leader.
"Then why are you speaking to me now?"