He surprised her when he started laughing. "I did not suppose you would be sorry, Makinna. I have learned enough of your character to know you will always champion those who need it-like the night you brought me food at Adobe Springs."
She attempted a haughty gaze, "I am glad that I amuse you."
His dark gaze swept her face. "It is good to have someone who can make us laugh in a world in turmoil."
"Is the world in turmoil, Tykota?"
"Perhaps only the place where I dwell." He breathed deeply and turned away. "You should place your bedroll away from the fire"-he pointed to his left-"beneath that rock wall. I will lay my bedroll between you and my warriors, so you will not feel uneasy."
Makinna could have told him that he was the one she felt uneasy around. She wanted so desperately to touch him, to have him kiss her, to go back to the way they had so briefly been.
She could have told him that, but she didn't.
Makinna's blanket was soft, and a cool breeze touched her cheeks. She folded her arms behind her head and stared at the endless sky, where a million stars were strewn like so many candles. She was aware when Tykota placed his bedroll, as he'd said he would, between her and his warriors. As she stared at the heavens, she wondered if he, too, was remembering the night they swam with the stars reflected in the river.
It was still painful for her to think about. She turned her back to him and closed her eyes. He was so near, and yet she could not touch him. In a few days, she would be on her way to California, and she would never see his face again.
That thought was so agonizing, she could hardly bear it. To never see him again would be a living death for her. He had touched her heart, and their souls had joined. Didn't he know that?
"Makinna?"
She did not turn to face Tykota. "Yes?"
"Thank you for helping my sister."
Now she did turn to face him. His tall frame was stretched out on his bedroll, and she saw his rifle near his hand so he could grab it if he should need it during the night. "I do not want your thanks, Tykota. As it is, I could never repay all you have done for me. You saved my life many times, and often at the peril of your own."
"Do not mention that. I just wanted you to know that I have been considering what you said about my sister. I want you to know that from now on I will look more carefully to her happiness."
"I am glad." She shifted her weight and glanced back at the sky. "When will we reach Biquera?"
"Are you in such a hurry?"
"I... I am eager to see my sister."
"We will be there in two days' time."
"Good night, then," she said, closing her eyes and willing herself to sleep.
"Good night, Makinna. Fear nothing, and sleep in peace. You are in no danger tonight."
She did not answer. She turned away and clamped a hand over her mouth to keep Tykota from hearing her cry. She had nothing to fearexcept living the rest of her life without the man she loved.
They broke camp and mounted before daybreak. Makinna watched the sunrise as they rode across a wide expanse of desert. This time she did not have to put mud on her face to keep from being burned from the sun. Huara had given her a salve to protect her skin.
Tykota rode beside her, and she could imagine them riding the wonderful pintos forever and never looking back.
The beauty of this land, with its wide canyons, red buttes, and giant cacti, now touched her deeply. Lofty mountains loomed in the distance, calling to her like some promised adventure.
"What are you thinking about?" Tykota asked. "From your expression, they seem to be pleasant thoughts."
"I was just thinking that I feel I was born to this land." She met his gaze. "I know it doesn't sound conceivable, but it's the way I now feel."
Tykota slowed his horse to a canter. "I am glad you like this land. Perhaps you will forget the misadventures and hardships and dangers you found here."
She arched a delicate eyebrow at him. "You are the most dangerous animal I met in this desert."
He had been smiling slightly, but now his expression hardened. "I have never been a danger to you."
"No, not in the way you mean. I am sorry for what I said."
Tykota called back to one of his warriors. She didn't know what he said, but the brave rode forward to canter beside Makinna, while Tykota urged his horse into a gallop and rode on ahead.
Silently the group wound their way across the desert, taking Makinna ever closer to Biquera Ranch-and out of Tykota's life forever.
Tykota rode up a steep butte and looked over the land. He had a view on every direction. He watched as the wind seemed to gather the clouds overhead, grateful for the shade they cast.