Makinna placed a blanket beneath Tykota's head, then turned to the fire she had built. She gripped the handle of his knife and thrust the blade into the flame. Gathering her courage, she turned back to Tykota to find him watching her. His dark eyes were liquid, and she saw the love shining there.
"Tykota, I have never done this before. I don't want to hurt you."
His lips formed a smile. "You are too stubborn to let a little thing like a bullet stop you."
She nodded, feeling her stomach tighten in dread.
"Just do it, Makinna," he urged.
"I think your wound may be infected."
"That is because I did not have the strength to remove the bullet. You must do it for me."
He watched her swallow hard and nod.
Makinna's hand was shaking, and she felt sick inside. She avoided Tykota's eyes as she called on all her strength.
"Just do it, Makinna."
She knew in that moment that this was the hardest thing she'd ever been called on to docause him pain.
When the blade touched his wound, he flinched. "No," he said between clenched teeth. "You are not a dream. This is all too real."
Makinna knew she had to do it quickly, so she wouldn't prolong his agony.
With a downward probe she felt the bullet against the blade of the knife. She became dizzy but would not give in to weakness. She probed deeper and felt him go limp.
Tykota had passed out.
She had to get the bullet out before he regained consciousness. She dug deeper and was finally rewarded for her efforts when she felt the bullet move. Slowly, painstakingly, she glided the offending object out. Then she eased away from Tykota, blotting the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve.
She saturated the wound with alcohol and washed most of the blood away. Then she bandaged his shoulder and arm. Now she could do no more than wait. Her hands were shaking so violently that she had to clasp them together to still them.
She went to the pool and washed her hands and face, then wet a cloth and placed it on Tykota's forehead because he still had a fever. When she made him as comfortable as possible, she prepared him something to eat. Hannah had thought of everything-her basket was overflowing with biscuits, dried meat, apples, and cheese. Tykota probably hadn't eaten in days.
Makinna sat quietly watching Tykota. He could be unconscious, but he seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Her gaze ran the length of him, his masculine perfection. He was lean yet beautifully muscled and undeniably handsome. His thick, dark hair fell to his shoulders, and she wanted badly to touch his bronzed cheek.
Sitting there in the waning light, she knew that she would never love anyone the way she loved Tykota. He was a man of honor, in his commitment to the Perdenelas, in his love for her. She didn't know exactly why God had brought her back into Tykota's life, but she was glad He had.
She reached forward to touch his cheek. She wasn't sure, but it felt a bit cooler. She rewet the cloth, washed his face and chest, wet the cloth again, then reapplied it to his forehead. It was so difficult to just wait.
Makinna stood and walked to the outer cavern. She moved to the entrance and stood on the ledge as she had done when she and Tykota had been here before.
The sunset bathed the desert in golden light, and she closed her eyes, absorbing the beauty of this land that now called to her and it gave sustenance to her spirit. She was not the same person she had been when she first came to this land.
Fearing that Tykota would wake up and need her, she went back to the inner cavern. He had not moved, so she sat down beside him and braced her back against the wall. Laying a hand on his, she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.
Makinna felt a presence and opened her eyes. From a darkened corner, an Indian emerged, and at first, she thought it was Tykota. But a quick glance showed her that Tykota was still sleeping.
She scrambled to her feet and hugged the wall. Then she saw it was Coloradous!
"What are you doing here, white woman?" he asked in a cold voice.
"I... Tykota was wounded, and I... took the bullet out."
"How did you know of this place?"
"I... Tykota brought me here."
Coloradous bent down and laid a hand on his brother's chest. "How bad is he?"
"I don't know."
"How did this happen to him?"
"Mangas told me that Santo did it."
Coloradous nodded. "Yes, Santo would have done this." He rose to his full height, and she was struck, as she had been before, by how much he looked like Tykota.
"I don't know how bad his wound is. He has not regained consciousness since I removed the bullet," she said.
"His breathing is very shallow."
"Is that bad?"
"It could be." His dark gaze settled on her. "You removed the bullet and bandaged him?"