The Drifter's Bride Read Free Page A

the pan and swirled it about. ‘My mother was Apache. Pa married her when she was just a girl. Arizona Territory was young then, and there were few white women around. Many men took Indian wives.’ She paused to slip the final mouthful between her lips, chewed and swallowed. ‘Then, after the War Between the States, people started pouring out West. The Indians became the new enemy. I was only a few years old, and I didn’t look Indian. Ma and Pa decided I’d have an easier life if people thought I was white. They told people my mother was from Italy, but she died birthing me, and Pa took an Indian woman to look after me.’
    ‘How did the truth come out?’
    Jade hesitated. ‘I never minded the lies while Ma lived. I got to go to school. They don’t take half-breeds. When I grew up, I was invited to dances. I had friends, girls from good families. Then…’
    She shifted her shoulders, not quite sure if even she fully understood the actions that had made her into an outcast in the small ranching town of Mariposa. ‘Then Ma died. After we buried her, I just couldn’t take the lies anymore. I wanted people to know she’d been my mother, even if that changed how they saw me. I ran off to join Ma’s tribe. They’re not on a reservation, although I expect they’ll soon be herded onto one. The word soon got around. Everyone learned that Sam Armstrong’s daughter was living with a bunch of dirty savages, and they finally figured out she was one herself.’
    ‘Why does your Pa send men to rescue you?’
    ‘Pa has a fruit farm. Indians are not allowed to own property, and he fears the farm will be taken from me when he dies, now that people know I’m half Indian. He wants to…’ Jade fell silent. How could she tell the stranger that her father wanted to marry her off to the first white man who’d have her?
    She pushed up to her feet and put out a hand to take his empty plate and spoon. ‘Pa doesn’t want me living with the Indians. When a stranger rides by, he spins a story that I’m a captive and offers money for my rescue. Star—that’s my horse—gets left behind, but he finds his way home when the Apache turn him loose.’
    Her rescuer leaned forward to throw another dry branch into the flames from the pile she had collected before she started cooking. ‘I promised your father to bring you back and I intend to keep my promise,’ he informed her. ‘And I’ll collect the money, you can be sure of that. Then if you want me to, I’ll take you back to the Apache camp.’
    Startled, she watched the flames flare and leap. Flickering lights danced over the stranger’s stark features, making him look grim and dangerous. ‘You’ll take me back?’ she asked, not quite sure she’d understood him correctly.
    ‘Yes.’ His voice was low, his gaze fixed on the fire. ‘No one should be forced to be somewhere they don’t want to be. Man or woman, white or Indian, each person should be allowed to choose their own fate.’
    ‘What’s your name?’ Jade asked, battling the odd tension that had seized her.
    He shot her a glance. ‘Carl Ritter.’
    ‘Carl Ritter,’ Jade repeated in a soft whisper.
    Then she turned away and used water from her canteen to rinse the dishes. Worry over what might happen the next day twisted in her belly. She knew without a doubt that her father didn’t have the hundred dollars Carl Ritter expected to collect.
    * * *
    A cry woke her. Jade sat up in the darkness and strained her ears. It came again—a muffled wail of distress. She threw the blanket aside and eased around the fire circle where embers still smoldered. Carl Ritter lay tossing restlessly in his sleep. He had given her his bedroll, and the folded towel beneath his head provided the only comfort against the hard ground.
    The choked sounds formed into words. She bent closer and listened.
    ‘I’ll get you out. I promise. Stand back. I’ll get you out.’
    His hands shot up and made clawing motions in the air. She