Comanche Haven (The Loflin Legacy: Book 1) (11 page)

“
I am.” Seth shoved his hand
through his hair and wished for coffee.

Instinctively, Ty searched his
brother’s face. “What did you do? Stumble onto an Indian
war?”

Ty’s observation was too close for
Seth’s frayed disposition. “We don’t have time for your jokes, Ty.
We’ve got trouble here.” Seth broke the contact by taking a step
backward. He didn’t want to have to explain things again, but it
didn’t matter. Still trying to wake up, he scratched at his chest
and glanced around for the coffee pot.

“
Well, excuse me. Seems I’m
mistaken in worrying about my big, fearless brother,” Ty snorted
with sarcasm. “What happened here anyway?”

Seth didn’t answer. It would be hard to
relive the details. “I’ll make coffee first. You want
some?”

“
Yes.” Ty’s questioning tone
spurred Seth to busy himself with the coffee tin.

With the fire going and the coffee
brewing, Seth took a deep breath before beginning the hard task of
relaying the gruesome details of what they’d found. “It looks like
soldiers. From what I could tell there are army issued weapons and
horse tracks littering the scene. The camp was burned and…and
they’re all dead...” Seth voice trailed off. He couldn’t bring
himself to look at his brother. The pain of what he’d seen had his
eyes burning.

“
Dead… All of them?” Ty’s
voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper as his dark eyes
searched Seth’s face.

“
Everyone except Lone Eagle.
He was alive but just barely when we got to him and he died before
we could learn who did it”

Ty’s sigh was audible. “Holy mother
of…” Flicking a stick into the fire’s smoldering heat, he dropped
to his haunches and slowly shook his head. The fire’s light
mirrored Seth’s disgust in his brother’s face.

Seth re-settled the coffee pot on the
hook above the fire. Reaching out, he warmed his hands while his
mind ran back over the incident. He was working on the
repercussions to come.

Neither one of them heard her slip up.
Celia materialized near Seth’s side. With features frozen in dazed
shock, she simply stood with her arms wrapped about Seth’s
oversized coat.

Ty rose quickly. Yanking off his hat,
he inclined his head toward her. “Celia, it’s been a long time.
I’m…I’m really sorry," he offered in Comanche.

Celia’s eyes were open, but she didn’t
see him. Her gaze fixed on a spot just over Ty’s shoulder. The only
visible response she gave him was a nod of her chin. Tears swam in
her eyes. Soot mixed with so many tears had stained her face. The
thought crossed Seth’s mind to reach out, take her in his arms,
before gently wiping the dirt away. He shook off the urge and stood
quietly.

Stepping toward her, Ty extended his
hand and touched her shoulder gently. “Don’t worry none. We’re
gonna find out who did this.”

“
Ty.” Seth garnered his
brother’s attention while his eyes never left Celia’s face. “I’m
taking Celia back to the ranch with us.” Apparently, it brought her
back because he saw the stunned look she gave him and missed Ty’s
equally surprised expression.

***

Ty wiped the sweat from his brow with a
faded kerchief. The sun was high in the sky. Noting how the mid-day
heat was setting in, he glanced again at his brother as Seth
watched Celia make her way among the graves. “She’s been at it all
morning,” he stated flatly. Soaking the kerchief with water before
tying it around his neck again, Ty started forward. “I’ll see if I
can get her to stop long enough to rest.”

“
Leave it.” Seth didn’t need
to glance at Ty as he issued the directive. He simply dropped his
spade and walked to the horses. With his canteen in his hand, he
headed for her spot next to a newly dug grave. “Celia.”

She turned before looking up at him.
Her expression emptied his heart. Lines of strain marked the
corners of her eyes while dark smudges lay beneath them giving her
a gaunt appearance. He recognized the exhaustion. She’d spoken over
every grave they’d dug. Her words meant to aid the People in their
journey to the next life came back easily.

Seth figured he’d listened to her speak
them enough times e might be able to do the ceremony himself if it
came down to it. “Celia, you need to sit down.” Handing her the
canteen and a piece of hardtack, Seth hunkered down beside her,
resting his elbows on his thighs.. “You’re working too hard. Ty and
I can take care of things here,” Seth urged. “Why don’t you try and
get some rest in the shade?”

“
Thank you.” Celia said. Her
voice was fragile, a cool, brittle sound , which made Seth’s gut
tighten.

“
I’ll be fine.”

She reminded Seth of a china doll, all
beautiful composure and control, yet delicate and
fragile.

Broken Horse spoke up, suggesting, “Why
don’t you take a break and rest? We still have a great deal of work
to do here.”

It took her several beats before she
turned to face him rather than continue over the current grave she
was trying to bless. “All right.”

Turning her attention to Seth, she
motioned for him to follow her. With the eyes of one who’d just
emerged from a trance in a sweat lodge, Celia requested, “Walk with
me.” Stepping away from the graves, Celia headed for the
trees.

They wandered silently among the
grasses and saplings until they came upon a large Sycamore
tree.

Settling down in the dapple shade,
Celia motioned for Seth to join her. In the stillness, with the
only sound being Ty’s spade removing more dirt from the earth,
Celia sighed and rested her back against the tree trunk. She pulled
the long length of her hair away from her neck and closed her
eyes.

The woman who spoke to him then was not
the same one who’d given such a weak reply only minutes earlier. If
anything, she was cool and composed. He could hear her striving for
logic now. “Seth, you know as well as I do y people’s rites of
passage have to be honored to help them survive in the next
world.”

Seth understood to what Comanche
tradition she referred. He’d learned much in the time he’d spent
with her and the People.

The heat was gathering as the day wore
on. Not so typical for early April, Seth thought. A stiff breeze
kicked up and rustled in the treetops. He waited patiently. Celia
opened her eyes and glanced up to where a mother bird feed her
babies. She smiled at the soft chirps they made. Seth leaned on an
elbow and stretched his long legs out as he watched her. Again, she
closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them looking directly
at him. Reaching out, Celia took his hand, giving his fingers a
gentle squeeze.

Seth felt the jolt of her touch and
glanced up. The contact stirred his senses. He was helpless to
contain the sensation she’d summoned. It was as if there was a
connection of sorts, a mental perception.

“
This is something only I
can do.” Celia’s jaw firmed. “I will help you with each
grave.”

“
You’ve been at since first
light. Why don’t you rest awhile?” Seth understood what her
response would be before he spoke the words.

The crease of her mouth spoke of
appreciation laced with stubbornness, a trait he knew she had in
abundance. “That won’t be necessary. I’m used to long hours in
surgery. There are no breaks from the work when you’re dealing with
a person’s life and even though they are dead to this world, we’re
still dealing with lives here.”

“
But we can handle this.”
Seth tried to reassure her. “I think I can even recite the prayer
of the dead from memory.” He sent her a rueful smile to lighten the
mood.

Her face relaxed and creased into a
discerning grin. But Seth could see he’d had no effect on her
decision at all. Her willful nature hadn’t changed with time. Seth
dropped his head before he shook it in a sign of resignation.
Arguing with this woman would bring little gain indeed. He watched
as she rose and made her way back to the graves. Admiring the view
as she left, Seth considered her independent stance. He’d been
trying to convince himself she needed him, but Seth began to
realize the very essence of the woman lay in the fact despite the
obstacles, despite all the heartache, Celia would survive – alone
if she had to. He went over again what she had told him the day
before. Her graduating from finishing school, her being a surgical
assistant in Charleston was all the result of determination and
grit. Oh, yes, the woman had a lot of grit.

There were times when despite himself
Seth found Celia infuriating. Then there were times like this
morning when he’d realize how marvelous she was. She was
exceptional. On a slow release of breath, Seth considered her
courage again. Nevertheless, even strong women needed
companionship, didn’t they? Perhaps a man to shoulder the burden or
lighten the mood? Glancing around, Seth thought about braving this
territory as a woman. Most women would’ve collapsed by now from the
sheer heat of the day, not to mention the gore of the death lying
all around them, but not Celia. Was the young, affectionate maiden,
he bedded so long ago, still inside the self-sufficient, fearless
woman who’d come back into his life?

What had her life been like back east?
It had to have been very different. With her looks, Seth knew she
should have had all manner of invitations. Had she accepted any of
them? Did she in fact have someone waiting for her return? What
kind of man would let a woman travel to the territory alone? A
stupid one, Seth surmised and threw down the grass he’d been
chewing on.

What would it take for her to stay?
Seth realized Celia would want to find her father’s killer. But
then what?

Pushing the Stetson to the back of his
head, Seth glanced up at the sky. Crystal blue smiled back at him.
It wouldn’t be easy. Nothing worth keeping ever was. Rising to
return to work, Seth promised himself, he’d be there when she
needed him.

***

The four of them stood over the body of
Lone Eagle as Celia began to pray to the Great Spirit. Seth and Ty
removed their hats. Besides the one outward show of respect, there
was little the brothers could do except stand in silence as Celia
and Broken Horse turned their faces toward the sky and focused on
the Comanche prayer of passage.

She wore a beaded dress of soft deer
hide confiscated from the wreckage and had chosen to paint a red
strip down the part in her hair in respect of the ceremonial
custom. Soft moccasins covered her feet and she appeared almost as
Seth remembered. He saw Celia’s hands tremble when she placed Lone
Eagle’s tomahawk in his crossed arms. She adjusted his beaded
headband and gently smoothed the feathers. The fox fur she had
asked Ty to gather served as a warm, soft pillow to rest her
father’s head on. Finally, laying a buckskin hide they’d managed to
salvage over him, Celia said good-bye to her father.

The pain in her face was something Seth
would remember forever. Listening silently to the cousins chants,
Seth chaffed at the ineptness he harbored. His hand itched to reach
out and console her openly. Though he knew she wouldn’t welcome it,
he found he wanted to sooth her, to somehow remove the anguish from
her heart. Seth banked the urge as he watched her complete the
ceremony. She had to do this alone.

“
Good-bye, Father. I love
you.”

The sound of the spade of dirt hitting
the buckskin seemed to echo through the trees around
them.

***

Ty banked the fire to chase away the
chill. Moving to where Seth lay, he crouched down and gave his
brother’s shoulder a good shake. “Wake up. It’s your
turn.”

Darkness surrounded them and a cool
dampness had set in overnight.

Seth stretched his stiff muscles under
the cover of his bedroll and shifted slightly, peering at his
sibling from a sleep-clouded face. “What?” Seth managed the one
word question while he glared at Ty out of one eye.

“
It’s your turn at watch.”
Ty grinned.

“
What’s so damn funny about
that?” Seth scrubbed at the growth of hair on his chin.

Ty shook his head in resigned
amusement. “How you can wake up with a scowl on your ugly mug when
you’re the one who’s got the sleep under his belt is beyond me.” Ty
pivoted on his haunches and picked up the cup of coffee he’d poured
earlier before passing it to his brother. “Here”

Watching him from the other side of the
steaming cup, Seth only grunted.

“
Broken Horse has gone out
tracking. He left a little while ago after he said goodbye to
Celia. He said to tell you he’d get in touch as soon as he had
something to report,” Ty told his brother. “I did some looking on
my own.” Ty searched the horizon as he changed the subject. “The
tracks leading away from Lone Eagle’s camp are army issued shoes.
You were right. I even found an army issued rifle stock broken in
the bushes. But the Army, at least the soldiers I know from Fort
Tyler, would never even consider a massacre like that.”

“
Whoever’s responsible did a
hell of a lot more than just consider it. That’s for damn sure.”
Seth sat up and flung the blanket aside.

Ty continued to rest on his haunches,
his arms hanging loosely over his knees in a position he’d learned
as a young boy at the knee of his mother’s Choctaw
father.