The Peacemaker Read Online Free Page A

And almost immediately the team began to slow. Now, it would be only moments before the Apache brought the team to a stop, and then . . . .
    It was as difficult to focus her eyes as it was her thoughts. Then she remembered that as long as she had the revolver she had freedom of choice and the power to decide her own fate. She tucked the six-shooter into her right skirt pocket. There wasn't going to be any and then , not if she could help it!
    Captain Nolan groaned and Indy moved to help him as he struggled to sit up. "Come on, Captain, lift up a little and lean against me," she whispered. Using his left arm, he raised himself up and moved back. Careful of the protruding arrow, Indy assisted as best she could. She was beginning to feel a little dizzy and disoriented herself, and realized she probably had a concussion. Once the captain settled against her, he sagged, his strength having given out.
    "Ma'am?"
    "I'm here, Captain." Wrapping her left arm around him, she held and comforted him. Blood oozed from his back and penetrated the layers of her clothing.
    The team had been brought to a stop. Indy listened carefully for sounds that would tell her the Apache was on his way to claim his prize. Aside from the jingle of harness, the mules' winded blowing and stamping feet, there was only the echo of distant rifle fire. The Apache made no sound at all and without moving the captain, she was limited in what she could see. But there was no help for it, so she watched . . . and she waited.
    A flash of red caught her eye. She moved her hand slowly to her pocket.
    The Apache stood at the back of the ambulance, taller than most men and straight as a pine. His shoulders were wide, his arms bulging with muscle even now, when he wasn't straining. His skin was tight against the broad expanse of his chest and stomach, not an ounce of spare flesh anywhere. Around his forehead a faded red headband kept the mane of long, dark hair back from his face—a face that intrigued even as it frightened. Hadn't one of the Army reports described the Apache people as being flat-featured, with small, compact bodies?
    This Apache certainly didn't fit that description. In fact, he didn't fit any standard description she could think of. He was arrestingly handsome with dark slashing eyebrows, a straight nose with flaring nostrils, and a jaw and chin so unyieldingly set that they could have been carved from the mountains that surrounded them.
    But it was his eyes that made her die inside. Darkly cold—killing eyes that didn't even blink as they stole quickly but thoroughly over her face and body.
    With the captain's right shoulder providing cover, Indy slipped her hand into her pocket and curled her fingers around the revolver's smooth wooden grip. Until now, she had thought only of sparing herself from being taken captive, not a thought of what would happen to the captain! He was already in great pain, maybe even dying. She had no idea if his wound was fatal. But if it wasn't . . . She needed only to reflect on the conversation she had overheard at San Simon to know what the captain's fate would be.
    It would be immoral to leave him to die so horrible a death. Strategically positioned, the one remaining shot could do the job of two.
    Captain Nolan stirred and opened his eyes. Indy turned her attention away from the Apache and nuzzled her lips against his forehead, trying to soothe him. "Don't worry. I'm here. I'll take care of both of us."
    "Shatto." The word was garbled.
    "What?"
    He groaned and raised his right hand toward the arrow.
    Guessing his intention to purge himself of the arrow, Indy screamed, "No! You can't do that!" She wrestled his hand, but even in his weakened state he was the stronger.
    With baffling swiftness, the Apache vaulted up into the wagon bed and threw his fist into the captain's face, knocking him out.
    The revolver, Indy. Now. Don't wait. Do it now! She pressed her lips together to keep from crying out as she drew the Colt from her