Jessica stared at him, her jewel-green eyes filled with hatred. "Give me my rifle and I'll show fight."
"You can't even stand!" He steadied her with one hand.
She jerked up her leather riding skirt to reveal her swollen calf. "I got bit by a snake a few days ago."
Crooked Nose's pitch black eyes narrowed as he studied the wound. "Snake." He nodded. "Your medicine must be strong to fight such evil." He glanced down at her calf streaked red and black. "Tonight when we stop I will make a pack to take out the poison."
She dropped her skirt as the other braves glanced at her curiously. Several had stopped for a short break to stretch their legs. They meandered in circles, talking among themselves in their native tongue and sipping from water skins. The horse herd moved on.
Jessica glanced back at her captor's face. His skin wasn't an even sun-baked hue like Adam's; it was blotchy and miscolored. Crooked Nose was precisely the same height as she was, so her gaze met him full in the eyes. "I'd rather have my leg drop off than have you touch it."
Crooked Nose tipped back his head and gave a bark of laughter as he pulled an army canteen from his saddlebag. "Drink." He raised it to her lips.
Jessica wanted to refuse, but knew it was foolhardy. Crooked Nose didn't care if she drank or not. It would be hours, perhaps days, before she got another chance. She took several gulps to wash away the alkaline dust of Utah from her mouth. Then she pushed the can away.
"Aye." The Kiowa gave a nod as he sipped from the canteen. "You are a wise woman; a finer warrior than these dogs that follow in my pack. Perhaps if you please me well, I will make you one of my wives."
"You'd be better to let me go."
He screwed the cap back on the canteen. "And why is that?" he asked with amusement. He stepped on a small lizard and crushed it.
She took a chance. "Because I belong to Adam Sern."
Crooked Nose jerked up his chin. "Sern?"
She smiled a half smile. Pauline had said Adam had a reputation. "You know him?"
"I know of him."
"He's behind us, you know. A day, maybe two. But he can travel faster than you and this herd of horses."
Crooked Nose studied her face, trying to discern if the white woman spoke the truth. Sern was a half-breed lawman from the northern country. A formidable foe. "You say you are his?"
"Yes. We're tracking a man who robbed a train. Larry Caine."
Crooked Nose laughed again. "That woman-child! One of my men once caught him in Kansas. They say he cried for mercy. He gave up his horses and his woman in exchange for his life."
Jessica thought of Shiner and his wife Gladys. Hadn't Shiner said that had happened in Kansas? She wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Well, I suggest you and your men get riding, because when Adam catches up with you, he's going to be damned angry." She sighed staring off at the mountains in the distance. "He hasn't got time to mess with you boys."
Crooked Nose lifted his hand to hit her and she caught his wrist. The Kiowa laughed. "You are bold. I would kill a man if he touched me as you just have."
She released him. "Don't hit me," she threatened. "Kill me if you want." It was already obvious to her that he didn't intend to kill her. He wanted her for his own, as some trophy. "But don't put a mark on my body. Adam won't like it." She tried to speak in terms he would understand. She knew she was taking chances, but she also knew she might well be saving her own life. "He will torture you slowly, before he kills you, if you harm me. Otherwise"—she shrugged—"your death will be honorable."
The smile on the Kiowa's face faded. He grasped her roughly by the waist and heaved her onto his horse. He shouted to his men and they remounted quickly. A moment later Crooked Nose mounted behind her and they rode off.
Near dusk, Jessica heard a commotion among the braves. She lifted her heavy eyelids to see something far on the horizon. Crooked Nose reined in a moment later. Several Utes spoke to him and then rode off in the direction of whatever it was they saw. The brave with the red scalps dangling from his belt led.
Crooked Nose ordered his men to round the horses into a tighter herd and then directed that they move on. Up ahead Jessica could hear shouting and whooping as they neared their prey. Rifle shots sounded on the silent plateau.
"What is it?" Jessica asked. She craned her neck, squinting.
Crooked Nose chuckled. "My men—they need a little fun." He rested a hand on her shoulder. "You are tired. We will stop soon."
She shrugged his hand off her. "I can ride. Were I you, I'd want to put a little more distance before I made camp."
The Kiowa gave a grunt and urged his horse into an easy lope.
As Crooked Nose and the horse herd neared the Indians who had rode ahead, Jessica realized that it was a wagon they had surrounded. The Utes rode in circles whooping and slinging arrows into the wagon bed. Some fired rifles over their heads. Her stomach went sick as she saw a man stand and shoot from the wagon only to be run through with a short lance. A boy raised up off the wagon bed and shot one of the Utes clean off his pony. A moment later the boy, no older than Mark, pitched off the back of the moving wagon, a Ute arrow protruding from his chest.
Jessica buried her face in the horse's mane. If there had been anything in her stomach, she knew she would have been sick. The Utes dismounted and began to fight over the father and son's weapons. They unhooked the horse that drew the wagon and added it to the herd. Then they set fire to the old beatup wagon, bodies and all. They tossed their dead companion's corpse onto the blaze. Crooked Nose rode by the desecration with disinterest. He barked a command.
Sobs threatened to wrack Jessica's body. It was all she could do to muffle her tears in the horse's mane, but she refused to let her Kiowa captor realize how close she felt to being beaten. It was her strength Crooked Nose admired . . . her strength that was keeping her alive.
Adam dismounted from Zeus and went to have a look at what was left of the burnt wagon. A partial skeleton, the flesh on it burned black and melted, protruded from the rubble.
"Christ!" Adam stared up at the great open sky. He felt so damned helpless. Crooked Nose and his men were headed due north through the mountains and onto the great Snake River Plain. They probably intended on making it to Idaho Falls where they could sell the stolen horses.
He touched a charred piece of wagon seat. Although the embers were no longer burning, the wood was still warm. He figured he was two days behind them.
The thought of Jessica among Crooked Nose's band made him sick. He knew what kind of man the renegade Kiowa was. He'd seen what was left of the bodies of the man and wife near Sharpston. What if Crooked Nose had harmed Jessica? What if she lay dead only a mile ahead? Adam knew he would drive himself crazy if he didn't stop thinking of all the possibilities. Jessica had survived that fight on the creek bank. Her desire to live was strong. Besides, Crooked Nose wouldn't have bothered to take her along if he hadn't intended on keeping her alive.
Adam remounted, buried his heels into his Appaloosa's flanks and rode on.
Jessica picked up one foot, set it down, and picked up the other. It was mechanical. All she could do was concentrate on each step.
Once Crooked Nose and his men had reached the mountains, the trek had become more unbearable for her. The band moved slowly, picking their way through the mountains, trying to keep the horses together. Crooked Nose still refused to allow her to ride Hera, so she rode in his lap, or walked.
She actually preferred the walking, though her leg still hurt like hell. At least walking, even on the short lead line Crooked Nose had tied around her neck, she felt some freedom. She hated riding in his lap, his sweaty body pressing against her.
They rode from sunup to sundown, stopping twice a day for water. The pace was grueling. Jessica was so exhausted that she couldn't think. All she could do was step . . . step . . . step.
As the days passed she began to wonder if Adam was truly coming. What if something had happened to him in Blades? What if he'd been shot?
Gotten sick? What if he'd gotten information on Larry Caine's whereabouts? What if the Union Pacific Railroad had ordered him to move on? What if this was his way of getting rid of her? He'd told her which direction to ride if he didn't return. Maybe Adam had never planned on returning for her.
Jessica stirred her thoughts round and round in her head until her mind was nothing but a jumble of confusion. Adam wouldn't leave her behind. She knew that. She would never leave him. They were partners, weren't they?
When Crooked Nose and his men rode out of the mountains, Jessica was thankful for the flat terrain. The only thing good about crossing the mountains had been the relief from the unrelenting sun.
At sundown the Utes made camp. Someone had ridden away at sunup and had since returned with bottles of whiskey. The men started a campfire and roasted the hind quarters of a deer they'd shot in the mountains the day before.
Jessica lay on her side, in the shadows of the flames, watching the men as they grew rowdy with drink. She wondered how far a town must be that the Ute was able to go get whiskey and come back in one day. She wished to God she knew where she was. Idaho maybe. She was so tired, her body so exhausted, that she couldn't think. Geography classes back in Tennessee when she was a girl seemed to have taken place a million years ago.
Out of the corner of her eye, Jessica caught sight of Crooked Nose unfolding a piece of canvas a good twenty yards beyond the circle of light the campfire radiated. She pushed up on one elbow, curious.
The Kiowa leader was erecting a tent. It became obvious very quickly. A tent? Jessica hadn't seen any tent before. Where had it come from and what did Crooked Nose intend to do with it?
A moment later he appeared at her feet. "Tonight we sleep there," he told her. "Get up. You will bathe."
Jessica lifted her lashes to stare up at Crooked Nose. "I don't need a tent. I'm fine here." She patted the saddle blanket she was stretched out on.
"Do as I say, Jess-i-ca. I will walk you to the stream that comes from the mountain. It's not far."
When Jessica made no move to get up, he grasped her arm and pulled her to her feet. "My leg," she protested.
"Your leg is better. I saw no limp today. The swelling is almost gone, the color is good. You have survived your test of the snake."
Jessica trembled. The Kiowa's face was taut and stark. He was not in the mood to be toyed with. "I will not sleep with you in that tent. I told you. I belong to Adam Sern."
Crooked Nose tightened his grip on her arm until she flinched with pain. "You will do as I say or I will give you to my men. I can promise you they will not be gentle."
Her eyes met his in challenge and she realized this was the time to back off. She walked beside him obediently. The Utes behind them whistled and called out, making obscene noises. She ignored them, refusing to let them penetrate her concentration. There was still time. She wouldn't let Crooked Nose touch her, not after what she and Adam had shared. She'd die first, but the time to die hadn't come yet.
Crooked Nose led her a half mile back to a streambed and stopped. The moonlight filtered down from the sky to reflect off the trickling mountain water. "Take off your clothes," he ordered.
The moonlight illuminated his splotchy face. He waited calmly.
Jessica shook her head. "I won't."
"You will or I will." His hand darted out to catch the sleeve of her soiled shirt. The sound of tearing material filled the night air.
She took a step back. The thought of this man undressing her made her skin crawl. "All right," she said, her voice fierce, but barely a whisper.
She stood in the moonlight, her green eyes riveted to his as she pulled off her boots and her wool socks. She stepped out of her leather riding skirt.
The Kiowa parted his feet, taking an easy stance. He nodded approvingly.
She slipped out of her torn shirt and let it fall to the ground.
Crooked Nose gave a flip of his hand. "The rest."
A shiver ran up her spine. She wore nothing but her bloomers and a sheer camisole.
He reached out and she shrank back. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she shed the remainder of her clothes.
"Now," Crooked Nose told her, his eyes taking on a glint of lust. "Into the water. I want no woman that stinks."
Backing into the stream, she cupped handfuls of water and let them run down her naked limbs. She kept her eyes on the Kiowa's as she washed away the journey's dust and grit. To her surprise, Crooked Nose made no advance toward her. If he did, she would wait until he touched her and then she would rip his knife from his belt and sink it into his heart.
"Your hair," he commanded from the darkness.
She waded into deeper water and flung her head forward, dipping it into the cold running water. She heard Crooked Nose enter the quiet pool and she lifted her head, the water streaming down her face. Her hand shook at her side as she flexed her fingers, her eyes falling to the knife on his belt.
"That is better. Come. I have brought clean clothes."
"I don't want clean clothes." She followed him, climbing the bank behind him. "I'll wear my own."
He snatched up her dirty riding clothes before she reached them. "You will wear this into the camp, or you will wear nothing."
She took the square of clothing he offered and shook it out. It was a soft leather tunic. She dropped it over her head and pushed her arms through the sleeveless armholes.
They walked back to the camp in silence.
"Let me have my clothes," she said when they reached the light of the fire and picked up her boots.
Crooked Nose laughed and with one heave threw her clothing into the fire. The Utes laughed.
"Now go to the tent and wait for me," the Kiowa told her softly in her ear. "Remember what I said I will do to you if you try to escape."
Jessica tried to take deep even breaths as she made her way to the tent. This wasn't the end. She wasn't ready to give up yet. She thought of Adam and the closeness they'd shared.
That filthy Kiowa wouldn't touch her. He'd lose his life first!
Chapter Fourteen
Adam crept through the shadows, his ebony eyes fixed on the Ute braves that gathered around the campfire. He counted their number and guessed his odds against a fight with them. He thought them fair to middlin'.
He shifted his gaze to the Kiowa leader who stood near the fire sipping from a bottle of whiskey. Crooked Nose. The man who'd kidnapped Jessica . . . A man he had heard tales of since he'd come west, but a man he had never laid eyes on before. The firelight danced off the Kiowa's splotchy face. Even at this distance Adam could see the multiple breaks in his nose that had healed improperly, giving him his name. The Kiowa's mouth was pursed in a tight scowl. It was said Crooked Nose held to no code of honor. In his twisted mind, there was no right, no wrong. He took what he wanted, horses, human lives—it made no difference to him.
Adam crouched, resting his hands on his knees. He surveyed the landscape and calculated the distance to where the herd of stolen horses grazed. He considered his options. The tent was far enough away from the campfire that there was a chance he could just sneak in, take Jessica, and together they could disappear into the night. But a part of Adam wanted to stand and fight Crooked Nose. He wanted to avenge the injustices, the innocent lives the renegade had sacrificed.
Adam dropped onto his hands and knees and crawled across the hard-packed ground to the rear of the tent. This wasn't the time to settle with Crooked Nose. He had to get Jessica to safety. He had to track down Caine who slipped farther and farther from his reach each day. Adam had to save his own honor. A coyote howled mournfully in the distance.
He reached the tent. "Jess . . ."
"A—Adam?" Jessica answered. It was him! She couldn't believe it! He had come for her!
"Yes."
"Oh, God, Adam, get me out of here!" She pressed her hand against the canvas of the tent and was rewarded by the warmth of Adam's touch. She couldn't see him, but she could feel him. She held back her
tears.
"Just hang on, sweetheart," he murmured. He slipped the daggered point of his knife into the canvas and tore a long slit to the ground. He thrust his hand between the folds and Jessica grasped it.
"Can you see Crooked Nose?"
"Yes," she whispered. "He's looking this way."
"He can't see you. He's standing in the light, you're in the dark. Come on, Jess."
"Adam, he knows something. You'd better back up."
Adam reached through the slit in the canvas and grasped both of her arms. "I'm not going anywhere without you," he told her as he pulled her out of the tent.
Jessica threw her arms around Adam's neck, a sob escaping her lips. "Oh, God, Adam, I thought you weren't coming!" She showered his face with kisses.
Adam pressed his mouth to hers. "Not coming? I thought we were partners." He smoothed her wet hair, reveling in the feel of the soft skin of her cheek.
She looked into his ebony eyes. The moonlight streamed down, bathing his face in golden light "Adam," was all she could say as tears formed on her lower lashes. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she loved him, to tell him that it would be all right for him to love her, but she couldn't. There were still so many doubts. She was still so scared.
He kissed her again, then dropped into a low crouch. "Your leg. Can you run?"
She nodded. "Where's Zeus? Which way are we going?"
"Through the horse herd."
Just then a shout of alarm sounded. Footsteps pounded toward the tent.
Adam grabbed Jessica's hand and they ran straight for the herd. "Keep low," Adam called in a hushed whisper. "They haven't seen us yet. The horses will shield us."
Jessica ran as fast as she could, clutching Adam's hand. She could hear the commotion behind her and she threw a glance over her shoulder. By the faint light of the fire she could see Crooked Nose standing beside the tent looking out into the darkness as the Utes rushed forward.
"Duck," Adam shouted as they reached the edge of the horse herd.
In Close Pursuit Page 14