Harvest of Fury Read Online Free Page A

For a moment the firm-set lips softened, looked vulnerable. Only for a flash. When Talitha finished, the Papago woman made a scornful sound.
    â€œBefore I tell you. We have always a watchman. Our cave in the mountain has supplies and water. We go there if Apaches come.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œApaches raid Papagos for three hundred years. We still here.”
    No arguing with that. “The El Charco people are moving to the main ranch,” Talitha said, rising. “Would you like to set up your ranchería there?”
    Suddenly Tjúni’s face changed. Lowering her voice, she sounded almost fearful. “You see her? She still watch rancho?”
    A primeval chill ran through Talitha before she sternly told herself that even if Socorro could come back, she would protect, not harm. “I’ve seen nothing,” Talitha said matter-of-factly.
    Sometimes, though, she’d felt an almost palpable presence, a steadying reassurance. And, at the very least, Socorro had left an example that inspired while it discouraged, for who could hope to equal her?
    â€œShe there,” Tjúni insisted.
    â€œYou saw her?”
    â€œPlain as you stand there.” Tjúni shivered in spite of the heat. “Night, but much moon. Black hair move in wind. Beautiful. Smile like always.”
    And where had Tjúni been? In bed with Shea?
    â€œDid she say anything?”
    â€œNot words.” Tjúni frowned, puzzled. She went on gropingly. “At first I was afraid—think her angry. But she—somehow she make me know she not.” Old resentment and humiliation tinged the Papago woman’s voice. “She want me to be good to Shea, help raise children. She want all happy.”
    â€œBut you left,” Talitha said. She didn’t mean it as an accusation, but it sounded like one.
    Tjúni’s eyes flashed. “Shea no marry, I no stay! Let ghost cook for him, sleep with him!” With a curl of her lip as she looked at James, who was standing out by his horse, Tjúni said, “You keep tigres at the ranch, too, now you pet Apaches?”
    Angered past speech at this slur on her brother, Talitha shot a furious glance at the woman and said in a choked voice to the children, “Let’s go!”
    Cinco had slipped away but now came back, running. He reached Cat as she was clambering into the saddle and pressed something into her hand.
    Tjúni spoke harshly to him in Papago, but he paid no heed, eagerly watching Cat, who smiled in delight at a little wooden blue bird.
    â€œThank you,” she told him. Impulsively, she unfastened the gold crucifix Shea had given her one Christmas and handed it to this darker-skinned half brother. “For you.”
    With a smothered sound of rage Tjúni snatched for the keepsake, but Cinco eluded her. It was clear that he had no fear of his formidable mother who doted on him.
    Pulling back beside Talitha, Cat pressed the bird to her cheek. “Isn’t it dear? I’ll have it above my bed.” She handed it to Talitha; who balanced it in her fingers.
    â€œIt’s so light it must be made of yucca root.”
    That was all she could think of to say. She was troubled by Cinco’s immediate and rapt devotion to Cat. Had he sensed his true father’s blood in her? If that kinship was the answer, why hadn’t he fixed on Patrick or Miguel?
    â€œI wish he could come to live with us,” Cat murmured. “After all, he’s father’s son.”
    â€œTjúni doesn’t want that,” Talitha said. “She has the right to raise the boy as Papago if that’s her choice.”
    James rode close to examine the small azure bird. “I can make you a hawk or eagle,” he said disdainfully. “Much better than this.”
    Cat made a face at him. “I won’t let them get my pretty little blue bird!” She turned to wave at the small figure that stood alone at the edge of the