The stallion reared, a towering shadow of muscle and hooves. It screamed, twisting in the air, its front legs lashing out. The boy froze, looking up with wide, uncomprehending eyes. Luke didn't think. There was no time to think.
There was no time to remember that he was a prisoner, or that these were the enemy. He vaulted the fence. He hit the dirt running, throwing himself between the horse and the child. He didn't try to grab the boy. There wasn't time.
Instead, he threw his arms up, making himself big, and roared, "Hiya! Back! " The stallion, startled by the new, aggressive presence, twisted in midair. Its hoof grazed Luke's shoulder, a blow that felt like a hammer strike. Spinning him around, Luke ignored the pain. He lunged for the stallion's halter.
His hand closed around the rawhide cheekpiece. He yanked the horse's head down, using his weight to force the animal off balance. "Easy," Luke gritted out, hanging on as the horse thrashed. "Easy, you devil. " He drove his shoulder into the horse's neck, murmuring the low, rhythmic sounds he used on his own stock. "Whoa.
That is enough. Whoa. " The stallion shuddered, its eyes rolling white, but it stopped rearing. It stood there, flanks heaving, trembling with adrenaline. Luke held it for a heartbeat longer, then slowly released the halter, backing away with his hands raised. He turned.
Sunny was already in the corral, scooping her son into her arms, sobbing hysterically. The entire camp had frozen. Every eye was on Luke. He stood there, dusting off his pants, his shoulder throbbing with a dull, sickening ache. He felt the familiar rush of the adrenaline crash.
Ayanna was standing by the gate. She looked at the stallion, then at the crying child, and finally at Luke. Her face was pale. She walked over to him. She did not raise her voice.
She did not scold him. "You could have let the horse kill him," she said. It was a statement, not a question. "It would have been one less Apache to grow up and fight your people. " Luke looked at her, rubbing his injured shoulder. "He is a boy, Ayanna.
He is not a war. " Ayanna stared at him. The silence stretched between them, thin and taut. For the first time, the hate in her eyes was gone, replaced by something else. Shock, perhaps, or a grudging, painful respect. She reached out, her hand hovering for a second as if she might touch his arm, then dropped it.
"Thank you," she said. The words were stiff, foreign in her mouth. She turned and walked to Sunny, putting a protective arm around the younger woman. Luke watched them go. He leaned against the fence, the pain in his shoulder sharp and real.
He looked at the stallion, which was now watching him with wary curiosity. "We are both stuck here, friend," Luke whispered to the horse. But as he looked around the camp, he saw the way the other women were looking at him now. The cold appraisal was cracking. Nailan gave him a slow, deliberate nod from across the fire.