Under Apache Skies by Madeline Baker

Author:Madeline Baker [Baker, Madeline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Butterfly Kisses Press
Published: 2016-11-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Ridge woke to the scents and sounds of his childhood. For a moment he lay there with his eyes closed, letting the memories of the past wash over him. He heard his mother’s laughter as she played with his little sister, the deep voice of his grandfather telling one of Coyote’s tales. He saw his sister trailing at his heels, always begging him to take her with him. It didn’t matter if he was going hunting or riding or swimming, she had always wanted to go along. And because he had loved her, he had taken her with him whenever he could. And when she was forced to stay behind, she had always come running to meet him when he returned, hurling herself into his arms.

Thinking of her filled him with pain, and he opened his eyes, banishing the images.

The scent of hoddentin lingered in the wickiup. Made from tule, hoddentin was carried by every Apache male. Medicine men used it in healing. A small amount was placed on the breast or the brow of the sick. It was scattered on the path before a man who was sick or wounded. It was thrown toward the sun at planting time to ensure a good harvest or when a war party left the stronghold. It was sprinkled on the bodies of the dead. It was placed on the tongue of a warrior who was suffering from exhaustion.

He knew the medicine man had used it on last night.

He groaned softly as he pushed himself into a sitting position. His side hurt like hell. Pressing against the wound, he glanced around the wickiup. There was no sign of Nochalo or Marty.

He was wondering if he had the strength to get to his feet when the door flap opened and Marty stepped inside.

“You’re awake,” she exclaimed softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Just looking at her made him feel good. “How long have I been out?”

“Since yesterday.”

“How are you doing?” he asked. “Are my people treating you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She sat down beside him, a bowl in her hands. “One of the women fixed this for you.”

Ridge nodded. “Have you seen any sign of Dani or Cory?”

Marty’s eyes filled with worry at the mention of her sister’s name. “No.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re not here,” Ridge said in an effort to reassure her. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes. Here.” She handed him the bowl and a spoon. “You must be hungry.”

“Yeah, thanks.” The bowl held thick beef broth, and he wondered idly whose cattle the Apache had stolen.

Marty sat beside him looking apprehensive, her brow furrowed. He knew she was thinking about Dani, wondering if her sister and Cory were still alive. Ridge didn’t hold much hope for Cory, but he was pretty sure Dani was all right. If she was here, she was likely being held as a slave in one of the wickiups.

He drained the last of the broth from the bowl and set it down, then threw the covers aside.

“What are you doing?” Marty asked, averting her gaze.

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