by E. E. Burke
Leaves crunched as he’d walked away. He didn’t go far enough for her to be able to outrun him. They both had guns, which they were clearly willing to use.
After she’d finished, she remained crouched. Hopefully, the two men would think she was still occupied while she took a moment to gather her courage and formulate a plan.
As best she could tell they’d ridden in a southerly direction. Beyond that, she had no idea where she was, except for the obvious fact it wasn’t anywhere near civilization.
From the pocket on her jacket, she withdrew a small compass, which she’d purchased before leaving New York, in case she found herself lost in unfamiliar lands. She hadn’t imagined she would be abducted.
It appeared they were headed east. How far were they from the worksite? Hard to say. They’d ridden through the night.
Had anyone noticed she was gone? Henry might take note of her disappearance, if he hadn’t remained focused on his guests. That foolish party had been his idea, as well as serving whiskey to the Indians. Had these two men gotten drunk and decided to steal from the railroad? She didn’t detect any odors of liquor, and they didn’t act inebriated.
Not only was serving alcohol to Indians illegal, it was ill advised, and certainly not how one negotiated in good faith. Had she not been so aggravated, she might’ve remained at the party instead of seeking sanctuary in her father’s private rail car. He rarely paid attention to her. He'd gotten used to the way she came and went as she pleased, and might assume she’d simply left without telling anyone.
Kate tucked the compass away and gave into a trembling moment of pure, unadulterated fear. No one would catch up in time, regardless.
Muttered conversation drifted over. Foreign words.
She couldn’t get to the horses without being seen. Scarface wouldn’t hesitate to shoot her if she tried to sneak past. The younger man was harder to read. He’d protected her from his partner, who’d been ready to slit her throat. Still, his motives remained unclear. It might be that he simply wanted to claim her as his prize. He’d threatened to bind her to his horse.
By Heaven, she had to attempt escape, regardless of his threat. If she were armed, she would have a fighting chance.
“Hurry up.” Her captor’s voice came from over by the horses.
She picked up a rock the size of her fist. If she lured him close, she could knock him out and take his gun. “I need help, please.”
Silence met her request, followed by a quick exchange in their language. A moment later, she heard the sound of slow footfalls, someone with a long stride. The younger man was the taller of the two, though he seemed less intimidating, and might be easier to subdue.
Kate remained crouched and kept the rock hidden in the folds of her skirt.
The tall Indian appeared around the side of the bush. In the early morning light, he didn’t appear nearly as savage or as frightening as he had earlier. In fact, he reminded her of the young cowboys she’d seen around town in their jean trousers, boots and leather vests. Fresh-faced, young, not much older than two decades, perhaps ten years younger than the other man.
She struggled with unease and uncertainty. Could she work up the courage to strike him?
It was the only way she’d escape. She had to get over her squeamishness.
Kate tightened her grip on the rock.
“Are you ill?” His tone conveyed concern she hadn’t expected.
She squelched a spurt of guilt. He only cared that she would slow them down. “I can’t stand. My legs feel weak. I’m not used to riding.”
He hooked his thumbs over his gun belt. “What do you want me to do about it?”
Well, that seemed like a stupid question. Most men would sweep in and scoop her up. Did she have to give this one instruction?
“Lift me, please. I can’t walk.”
For a heart-stopping moment, it seemed he would refuse. Then what? Her plan wouldn’t work if he didn’t come to her aid.
Her heart jumped when he moved. He stood taller than the bush. It would conceal him when he bent down to pick her up. At that moment, she’d hit him with the rock, hard enough to render him unconscious, then get his gun before the other man realized what had happened.
Instead of squatting next to her, the dratted man went onto one knee. He removed his hat and threaded his fingers through straight, inky hair that fell to just above his collar. The strands looked damp where the hatband had pressed against his head. Close up, he no longer resembled a cowboy. His native heritage was stamped on his features.
A fluttering started in her stomach, as if she’d swallowed a butterfly. The trapped insect lodged in her chest. She couldn’t think about his handsomeness or the flashes of civility she’d seen. He had abducted her. In all likelihood, he planned to rape and kill her, if she wasn’t smart enough to seize her opportunity to escape.
He offered his hand. “If you walk around, the feeling will come back.”
“My legs won’t support me. Will you carry me?”
With obvious reluctance, he slipped an arm around her waist.
Kate forced her body to relax even though her muscles screamed from being tensed and her fingers ached from clutching the rock. She looped her other arm around his neck. His grip on her waist tightened and the warmth from his fingers seeped through her clothes, setting off the tingling sensation she’d felt before at his touch.
Did he feel it, too?
He must, because he stared at her mouth like he wanted to take a bite.
She licked her lips, too nervous to speak.
As he drew her closer, his breath feathered her cheek. Her insides quivered. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, keeping the rock out of sight. Now. She must strike, for she wouldn’t get another chance—
“Wa-ya!” His partner’s cry split the air.
He dropped her and jerked to his feet. She rolled onto the ground, tried to keep the rock behind her back. Oh God, had he seen it?
“Coming.” His voice dropped a full octave lower than before. He grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. “Give me that,” he growled, and snatched her weapon.
The fury gathering in his eyes turned her blood to ice.
She cringed, anticipating the blow. When it didn’t come, she cracked her eyes open.
He cast the rock aside with a harsh word that sounded like a curse.
Relief flooded her insides, followed by a torrent of guilt. She had never intentionally plotted to harm another person. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to hurt you. Please, if you’ll let me go—”
He clamped down on her arm and dragged her back to his horse. As she stumbled over the uneven ground, she bit her lip to keep from crying out at his bruising grip. When he snatched the scarf from his pocket, she thought he meant to gag her again. Instead, he bound her wrists.
Would he strap her over his horse as he’d threatened? She nearly wept at the thought of the humiliating ride ahead. Rather than taking control of the situation, she’d made it ten times worse.
His partner’s murderous glare dashed her with cold dread.
Her father had threatened to box her up and ship her back to New York. He might just get his wish. She’d return there in a coffin.
Without a word, the other cold-eyed Indian turned his mount and started up the incline. Ahead, the earth seemed to drop off into the sky. She could hear water rushing.
She recalled a horrible scene from one of James Fenimore Cooper’s Leatherstocking Tales. These men might intend to send her over the edge of a cliff like that mad Huron had done to poor Cora.
Kate struggled not to fall to her knees to beg for mercy. She was a Parsons. She would leap to her death, not go there on her knees.
Her captor circled his hands around her waist and hoisted her up. Startled, she snagged the saddle horn and swung her leg over the saddle. He would allow her to ride astride like before? Perhaps he wasn’t as cruel as she’d feared.
When he mounted behind her, she scoo
ted forward to avoid contact. With a grunt, he grabbed her hips and wedged her bottom against his pelvis.
Goose flesh prickled her skin, the same unsettling sensation she’d felt before when he’d put his nose in her hair.
“Don’t even think about moving,” he growled into her ear. While holding the reins in one hand, he curled his other arm around her in an embrace more intimate than any she’d experienced.
A flush heated her face and fanned out until her entire body caught fire. The wretch wouldn’t spare her. He’d just come up with a different punishment.
Chapter 4
“Wa-ya, get up.”
Jake jerked awake at the touch on his shoulder. He rolled over, then winced as a rock dug into his side. He’d forgotten he put his blanket over Redbird.
Charley motioned. “Come outside. I want to talk to you.”
He sat up as his cousin walked away, twisted around to check on the woman lying next to him. Every muscle objected, including the one inside Jake’s chest.
Redbird lay curled up, facing the wall of the cave. Yesterday, he’d made her sit pressed against him for the remainder of the journey to punish her. By the time they reached the hideout, he’d been as randy as a goat and ready to shoot himself.
Her stillness gave the impression she slept. Whether she did or not, she had no way out except for the exit he’d be watching.
After he pulled on his boots and snagged his gun belt, he left the cave.
The sun had crested the opposite bluff. It’s bright light shimmered in a silvery haze over the river. The water frothed and leapt over stones and boulders. In some places, it curled up into the shore. Those still pools were perfect for fishing.
He loved this quiet, hidden place. Pity they wouldn’t be able to use it again. Redbird would be able to describe it, just as easily as she’d be able to describe the two men who had taken her.
Jake drove his fingers through his hair, his brief moment of peace shattered.
His cousin sat on a rock near the river. Charley looked far too calm for a man whose actions might start a war. He’d set a fire, had two fish roasting on spits. The coffee pot steamed over hot coals. The delicious smells made Jake’s stomach rumble.
Or the constant churning was a reaction to his cousin’s summons. Charley would want to know the plan.
Jake hunkered near the fire. He’d stall until he came up with something. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
“The fish will be ready soon.” Charley wiped his knife on his jeans. He flicked his wrist and sent the tip into the dirt a scant inch from his foot. He retrieved it. Tried again, and came closer.
When Charley had been a lanky youth and Jake still a child, he had urged Jake to join him in the game to see who could get the knife closest to his foot without injury. It seemed a stupid risk and Jake had balked at doing it. That was the first time Charley had called him a coward.
“Why do you do that?” Jake grumbled.
Charley responded with a mirthless smile. “Does it bother you, Little Brother?”
At one time, the moniker had been a term of endearment. Now, it sounded like an insult.
Jake retrieved a spit. He ate half his portion and set the rest aside. “She won’t be worth anything if we starve her.”
Charley made a sound that could’ve meant anything except concern. He devoured his portion of the cooked fish and tossed the bones into the fire. Then he poured a cup of coffee and cradled it in his hands. “What’s the plan? Should I take a note to leave for the railroad man in charge, the one they call Chief? How much do you think she will be worth to him?”
No note would be needed if they kept her until it was safe to release her. The absurdity of the notion struck Jake as soon as the thought flashed through his mind. He’d be stuck with a white woman who wanted to bash his head in. Surely, he could come up with something better than that.
They couldn’t ransom Redbird. If the army thought Cherokee men had started abducting white women for money, troops would be sent back into the Territory.
What had happened during the white man’s war—the wanton killing and plundering by soldiers on both sides—would happen again. Only this time, the carnage would be his fault. Just the thought of it made him cringe.
His whole purpose in this mission was to bring peace. The only path to peace would be through sovereignty. The whites had to leave and leave them alone.
Thus far, no one knew who was involved in the robberies. He intended to keep it that way.
Jake shook his head. “We will get nothing but trouble if we send a note and ask for money. We have to find a way to trade her without stirring up a hornet’s nest.”
“You think too much, Wa-ya. We have to act before they do.”
Always his cousin wanted to act, not think. If he stopped long enough to consider the issues, he might see they weren’t as simple as he wished them to be.
“Why do you suppose the railroad has not been able to convince the army to send soldiers across the border?”
“They prefer to stab us in the back.” Charley flicked the knife and the tip sank into the edge of his boot. “Or maybe in the foot, so we cannot run.”
Jake found little amusement in his cousin’s dark humor. “Politics. The army doesn’t want to appear aggressive and spark a war. If we give them a reason, they will not hesitate. That woman belongs to an influential man. If they realize we have her, it will give them the excuse they need to bring in troops and make more trouble for our people.”
“It was your idea to take her.” Charley brushed his thumb across the edge of the blade, a gesture that made Jake’s skin crawl. “Make them believe somebody else did it. Like the last time we stole the payroll.”
Jake picked up their only cup and poured himself some coffee. Using that ruse had been his idea, too. One of his better ones.
Disguised as a worker, he had learned when the payroll would arrive and where it would be kept. After he and Charley had broken into the mail car and made off with the money, he’d planted clues to convince the authorities it was the work of a thugs hired by the railroad’s rival.
“That ruse won’t work this time. The other railroad would not take revenge on a woman.”
Charley stood. “All right, then. I’ll put her down.”
Jake choked as coffee went down his windpipe. He coughed until his cousin pounded him on the back. His eyes watered. “We’re talking about a woman,” he rasped. “Not a lame horse.”
“Same principle. If we get no money for her, she is worthless.” Charley’s nonchalant assessment was more chilling than the knife in his hand.
When had killing become easy and life worth so little?
After his cousin had lost everything in life that mattered.
Guilt shuddered through Jake. He could not let Charley down, not again, but he drew the line at murder.
He got to his feet to place himself between his cousin and the cave. “No killing. That is what we agreed when we started this.”
Charley’s features turned to stone. “We agreed before you said to take her.”
Jake refused to look away from his cousin’s accusing glare. Charley would think even less of him than he already did.
Finally, Charley’s knife went into its sheath. He snatched his hat off the ground and slapped it against his leg. Dust went flying. “I will go set a false trail in case they try to track us.”
Jake brushed his hair off his forehead, which was damp with sweat. If Charley had challenged him, what would he have done? He didn’t want to find out. “Good. That will give me time to think.”
“What is there to think about?” Charley’s gaze grew flat. “If you are too soft, I can take her with me. Bury her out in the woods where nobody will find her.”
Chapter 5
Kate ignored the pain while she used her teeth to tear at the bandana binding her wrists. Her skin stung from being rubbed raw. Although her captor had used cloth when he’d retied her hands, he had secured the knots
tight. However, he didn’t know how stubborn she could be.
Her father knew. In fact, everything about her seemed to annoy him. She was too stubborn, too opinionated. Even her hair was too bold. When he looked at her, perhaps he saw an ugly duckling that had never transformed into a graceful swan. If she could escape and prove her mettle, he might see her as more than a vessel for accomplishing his dynastic goals—or a hardheaded nuisance. Her captor would agree with the nuisance part.
Shortly after they’d arrived at the cave, the younger Indian had threatened to punish her if she as much as moved an inch. Still, he hadn’t abused her, despite being given ample opportunity. If he’d wanted to kill her, he could have done it before now. The two thieves must hope to get money out of her father. That was last thing she needed, to cost him a ransom.
She spit to dampen the cloth, curled her hands to make them smaller. After several more tries, she worked them free. Not pausing, she went to work on the rope around her ankles. With two free hands, it was much easier. She tossed the bonds aside and scrambled to her feet.
Dizziness struck. She swayed, and reached for the rock wall. Deep breaths seemed to help. When she could stand without using a prop, she crept to the mouth of the cave to peek outside. With luck, her captors wouldn’t be watching and she could sneak off.
The two men stood less than a stone’s throw away, next to a camp fire, discussing something in their language. Based on their expressions, arm movements and stiff postures, they were engaged in an argument. Was it about food? Or money?
From what she could see, no bushes grew nearby. If she left the cave, they’d see her.
Drat. Now what?
The man with the scarred mouth grabbed his hat off the ground and whacked it on his leg before he stormed off in the direction of the trees. The taller one headed for the cave with a scowl on his face. Alone with her, he might stake his claim.
Panic struck. She turned to flee, struck her foot on a rock, and toppled to the ground.