“Yeah, I’m stronger now. Those bullet holes are healing. I felt like I needed to get out and move around some. But I’m going back to Juan Pablo’s hogan now.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
Matt didn’t think that was a very good idea, but he wasn’t really strong enough to run away from her, so there was nothing he could do.
Besides, that would have been rude. He didn’t want to cause trouble, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings any more than he already had, either.
The other young women followed behind them, talking in quiet but animated voices. Matt figured they were gossiping about him and the white teacher from back East.
That was all he needed, he thought. In some ways these Navajo were like anybody else. They liked a good juicy scandal.
Matt tried to walk a little faster as they approached the hogans. When he did, the pounding heartbeat and slight shortness of breath he felt told him he had pushed his recuperating body just about as far as it wanted to be pushed right now. He slowed.
“When Juan Pablo comes back, I may have to go.”
Elizabeth looked saddened by that prospect.
“You’re going to leave?”
“I need to find Sam.” Matt had thought it might take a week for him to be strong enough to ride out on Sam’s trail, but now he believed he might be able to do that sooner. Another two or three days ought to see him in good enough shape to leave.
And that would sure simplify matters with Elizabeth, too. Best he put some distance between him and her, Matt told himself, so she could go back to her teaching and not be distracted by him.
If he was honest with himself, he had to admit that he didn’t want to be distracted by her, either. Not as long as Sam was gone and the mystery of who had bushwhacked them and why still went unanswered.
Those thoughts wheeled through Matt’s mind, and he wished they would go away. Getting caught in a gunfight was easier, in a way, than trying to navigate human emotions and figure out what was the best thing to do.
Elizabeth didn’t make it any easier by saying, “I wish you’d stay longer.” She sounded determined to make that happen, one way or the other.
Matt didn’t waste his breath arguing with her. They had gotten back to Juan Pablo’s hogan, so he told Elizabeth, “I’ll see you later.” She looked like she was going to argue, so he went on, “I’m tired. I need to rest.”
She nodded, although he could tell she was reluctant to do so. He ducked through the entrance before she could say anything else.
The older woman gave him a stern look when he came in, as if she were scolding him. He ignored her and sat down on the blankets, and as he did, he realized just how weary he really was. He stretched out on the soft, thick pile of blankets. It felt good, and before he knew it he had closed his eyes and dozed off.
Matt didn’t know how long he had slept before he woke up to the sound of angry voices outside the hogan. Some sort of squabble was going on.
He probably would have ignored it, but then he recognized one of the voices as Elizabeth’s. He rolled over and pushed himself to his feet. Ignoring the exclamations from Juan Pablo’s wife, he stepped out into the late afternoon.
Elizabeth was there, all right. She looked angry and more than a little frightened as she tried to pull away from a man who had his hand clamped around her arm. He was holding her so tightly it had to hurt, Matt thought. Without pausing to ponder what he should do, he said, “Hey! Let go of her, mister!”
The Navajo released Elizabeth’s arm, but as he did, he turned toward Matt. His hand dipped instead to the knife tucked behind the red sash at his waist. With a whisper of steel, the blade came out. The warrior lunged at Matt and lifted the knife to strike.
Chapter 20
Instinct took over. Matt’s left arm came up to block the thrust of the blade.
At the same time his right fist shot out and smashed into the warrior’s face. He twisted at the waist as he launched the punch so he could put as much power into it as possible, and pain jabbed through him as the move pulled at the healing bullet holes.
That was a lot better than standing there and letting the man sink the knife in his chest, though. As the man reeled back a step, Matt grabbed the wrist of his knife hand with both hands and wrenched on it. The Navajo grunted in pain as bones ground together in his wrist and the knife slipped from his fingers.
The warrior swung a left at Matt’s head. Matt moved aside just enough to cause the blow to glance off his ear. It hurt anyway.
Matt hooked a left of his own to the Navajo’s jaw. He knew that the longer this fight lasted, the less chance he had. The wound he had suffered and the long days of lying around had depleted his reserves of strength. He was already breathing hard, and his pulse hammered inside his skull in a wild, discordant drumbeat.
A loud, angry voice bellowed words Matt didn’t understand, but the tone of command was unmistakable. The man he’d been battling abruptly stepped back. The man’s chest heaved, and his face was flushed and twisted with fury. But with a visible effort, he restained himself from attacking Matt again.
Caballo Rojo stalked up and planted himself between Matt and his opponent. For a moment the chief shouted at the warrior who’d been manhandling Elizabeth.
Then he turned to Matt and said, “White man go back in hogan!”
“I didn’t do anything,” Matt protested. He pointed at Elizabeth. “I was just protecting Miss Fleming!” He looked at her. “What in blazes is this all about, anyway?”
Elizabeth was pale and obviously upset.
