thing between us was right and that you couldn't turn away from it by
the morning's light.
He hadn't had the edge he had needed, the edge that had kept him alive
through so much.
So now they were here, and their fate rested on the decision of an
Apache chief.
He liked Nalte. He had a keen intelligence, was well- versed in his own
language and in English, well-aware of the world around him. And
fighting to maintain the inheritance of a people despite an encroaching
world. He was not so bad a man, Jamie thought. Rather he die and leave
Tess to Nalte, than leave her to trash like David or Chavez. Nalte would
never hurt her.
He clenched his fists and swore to the night sky. Then his thoughts
raced as he sank on h~s haunches to stare at the rippling, moon-kissed
water once again. I will not die here! Come heaven or hell, I will
fight, and with every edge, and I will bring her home with me!
'Jamie!'
He thought he imagined the voice.
But then, as he stared into the water, her reflection was caught by the
glow of the moon almost magically on the surface before him.
'Jamie ...'
She was there. She was wearing the white buckskin dress he had seen
before.
Her hair was flowing, rich and waving, paler than usual in the water's
reflection. Nor could the water catch the color of her eyes, that violet
that was so extraordinary and so compelling, so quick to flash with
anger, so deep when touched by her emotions. Nothing could catch that.
No words, no mirrored image.
But the water did catch the softness he had glimpsed before, and he knew
then why he had been falling in love with her so swiftly and so
completely. She had great strength, she would never tire, and she would
never cease to fight, for herself, for others, for the glory of all the
great muses that caught her heart. She could not bear injustice, and she
would never falter to overcome it.
But never could she be less than a woman, beautiful, giving, enwrap ping
all with the passion of her soul, and of her life. Once he had wanted
only her smile to touch him. Once he had been enamored of the silk of
her flesh, and the sweeping curves and slim angles of her form. Once.
But now he knew what it meant to love. It was desire, but more than
desire. It was needing the smile as much as the passion. It was wanting
to lie down by the still waters as much as to weather the tempestuous
storm. It was wanting to share a lifetime together.
'Jamie ...'
Once again, she whispered his name. He turned slowly, and saw that she
did stand just behind him--no image, no dream, so much more than a
reflection.
In her bare feet with her bare calves, her dress falling just above her
knees, she seemed exceptionally innocent.
The color of her eyes was true, deep as the night, dark as the desire
