The Peacemaker Read Online Free PDF

realized a second later. Moseley was holding her and telling her there was nothing to worry about. Then, pushing her gently away from him, he said, "The fightin's over, Miss Taylor. Shatto here, he's a friend. He don't mean you no harm. Weren't for him and his friends being out huntin' and comin' on us as they did . . . we'd a had us some serious trouble. As it was we lost three good men."
    "Friend?" she echoed, but her mind wasn't able to accept the word.
    The Apache looked away from Indy and he spoke to the sergeant in that same guttural language she'd heard before.
    Moseley translated. "He says he needs some-thin' for a bandage and figured maybe you'd have somethin' in that carpetbag of yours."
    Unable to turn her gaze away from the Apache, Indy spoke out of the corner of her mouth. She was shaking so hard she could hardly form the words. "I don't understand what is going on here. Why would you want to help him? He's one of the Indians who attacked us."
    "Yes, ma'am, he's one of them all right, but then again he ain't. Him and his friends have helped us out a time or two the last couple of months. It's been real bad since the colonel come and changed the way—" He stopped abruptly, obviously realizing his error.
    Indy didn't have the interest or energy to question him further. "But, Sergeant! You don't understand. He tried to—"
    "I know what you was thinkin', ma'am, but he weren't tryin' t'hurt you. He said he saw the blood on your clothes and thought you'd been shot, then he realized it was Cap's blood."
    The sergeant's words were finally sinking in and so was the realization that the Apache— Shatto—had saved her life—their lives, she and the captain's—by stopping the runaway team, then by preventing her from using the revolver.
    Apparently at the end of his patience, Shatto reached into the ambulance and grabbed for one of the carpetbags.
    Indy saw the movement out of the corner of her eye. Impulsively, she reached out and closed her fingers over his forearm before he could carry it off. It was a foolish move, prompted by her natural sense of decency and her guilt, but once the physical contact had been made it virtually paralyzed her. Beneath her fingertips she could feel him tense, feel the sinew and muscle expand and contract, feel the heat of his skin.
    Again, their eyes met and locked, but this time it wasn't fear she felt, but something else—some nameless thing, almost painful in its intensity. She blinked and looked up.
    It took her a full minute to remember why she had grabbed on to him. Then she rushed to explain, the words tumbling out too politely, coldly. "It seems I misinterpreted your intentions. You deserve my thanks not my condemnation. I'm sorry."
    For all the courage it took for her to apologize, it had been a wasted effort. His unflinching stare told her he didn't understand her words. She turned to the sergeant to ask him to interpret, which he did, but there was still no change in the Apache's expression.
    She removed her hand from his arm and he took the bag and returned to the captain. It was then that Indy saw the other braves, standing beside their horses, silent and watchful.
    All but one of the troopers surrounding the captain moved back, giving Indy a good view. Stripped to the waist, Captain Nolan was propped up against the trooper behind him. He was very much alive and alert. He drank from a small glass bottle and grimaced after each swallow. Finally, he pushed the flask away from him and roared like a lion.
    "God Almighty! Which one of you men has the audacity to call this whiskey?" No one confessed. "Ah, never mind. It seems to be working. But if I die real sudden like, it won't be the damn arrow that killed me.   Hear me?" he yelled, then groaned, obviously in great pain. After a moment he turned his gaze on Shatto who was kneeling down in front of him. "I'm ready. Do what you have to do, but do it quick, dammit."
    Shatto drew a knife from the leather sheath attached to his