She must know she was beautiful; she did not need him to tell her. "You will be more comfortable this way. The tangles can now be easily worked out with your fingers."
Makinna looked worried, and her bottom lip trembled a bit. "And in time it will grow back," she reassured herself.
Tykota swept away the cut hair to leave no evidence of their passage. Then he lifted the water gourds and moved away. "You will want to eat quickly and make yourself ready for a long trek. Tomorrow night we cross the worst of the desert."
She began working the worst tangles out of her hair. "I wish we could stay here."
He didn't answer.
Makinna bent to gathering the pouch of meat and the canteen. She sighed heavily. Tykota was the most complicated man she'd ever known. It must be because he was an Indian. They came from different worlds, and she didn't understand him any more than he understood her.
But what did it matter? When this was over, if it ever was, their paths would never cross again.
So why did that thought bring such a pain to her heart that tears sprang to her eyes? What was happening to her?
As Makinna stumbled forward, the scorching wind that blistered her face seemed to be borne on the wings of hell. Only the hardiest plants clung to life here in this wasteland, and they were dry and brittle, creeping through the baked cracks of the hardened earth.
Makinna shaded her eyes against the intense afternoon sun. She squinted toward the sky and counted five buzzards circling above them, waiting for them to die so they could feast on their flesh. She shivered, thinking the birds might just get their meal. The earth burned through the thin soles of her shoes, which now had countless holes in them. But she trudged onward, her eyes on Tykota's back as she wondered again where his strength came from.
At last she fell to her knees. She felt water on her parched lips and knew that Tykota had lifted her head and was offering her a drink. She drank deeply of the life-giving nectar, but it did little to ease her torment. She felt something cool against her face, and she realized that he had used some of their precious water to make mud to protect her from the sun.
"You must go on, Makinna. If you do not, you will die."
She barely had the strength to shake her head. "I can't..-You-must go on without me."
He lifted her to her feet and supported her weight. "I will not go on without you. If you insist on staying here, we will both die."
She pressed her head against his shoulder and knew he was supporting most of her weight. "I know what you are trying to do." she said weakly.
"And that is?"
"You are trying to give me energy by making me feel responsible for your life."
She heard him laugh. "At the moment, it feels as if I am responsible for yours."
"How much farther?"
"Do you see those mountains?"
With effort, she raised her head and stared across the waves of heat to the high mountains more than a mile away. "Please, not those in the far distance?"
"We will stop when we reach their base."
If she hadn't been too proud, she would have cried. Each step was agony as the hot ground seared the soles of her feet. She was beyond the limits of her strength and she just wanted to he down and sleep. "I can't, Tykota. I can't go on."
"I never expected you to make it this far." His voice sounded suddenly harsh. "An Indian maiden would not complain when the going was rough. But you are a weakling, a white woman who wants to give up at the least hardship."
His words cut into her soul. She knew that she had slowed him down, that she'd been a burden to him, but he was the one who'd brought her with him. "I did not ask to come with you."
He closed his eyes; his harsh words had wounded his own heart. She had been braver and had endured more than most men he knew, but he could not let her lose her courage now, or she would perish. He had long watched her struggling with her stubborn pride, and he'd hoped that if he challenged that pride, he might just might keep her alive.
He'd judged her correctly. He saw her spine straighten, and she rose to her feet. He felt pride in her courage, and he felt humbled by her power to endure when most women would have quit.
In defiance, Makinna pushed away his arm and stood on her own. "Just don't you lag behind, or I'll leave you to the buzzards." She glared up at him. "I may even personally feed you to them." And she began to walk.
Behind her back, Tykota smiled. Oh, yes. No woman he'd ever met could stand toe-to-toe with this one. She might look fragile, but she had strength of heart and mind.
After they had walked for over an hour, Tykota stopped and glanced back the way they'd come. Their footprints were clearly visible if the Apache were still searching for him, and he knew they would be.