“Isaac!” Abe called again. “You plannin’ to sleep all day?”
Slowly, Isaac came awake. His arm tightened around Nicole, and he smiled down at her.
“Come on, get up,” Abe said in disgust. “You got to go to the sloop and get the supplies.”
Isaac nodded. He didn’t question his brother about why he should make the trip instead of Abe. Isaac had always obeyed his brother. “Are you all right?” he asked Nicole.
She nodded mutely. “Why have I been brought here? Are you asking Clay for a ransom?”
“Go get the food,” Abe commanded when Isaac started to speak. “I’ll answer her questions. Go on!” he commanded when Isaac seemed to hesitate.
Abe stood in the doorway and watched his young brother walk down the path.
As soon as she was alone with him, Nicole knew she should be afraid of Abe. Yesterday, her mind hadn’t been working clearly, but today she sensed the danger she was in. Isaac was a sweet and innocent boy, but there was nothing sweet or innocent about Abe. She stood up quietly.
Abe whirled on her. “Now we’re alone,” he said quietly. “You thought you were too good to have anything to do with me, didn’t you? I seen the way you hung on Isaac, the way you let him touch you and hold you.” He took a step toward her. “You one of those women what only likes young meat? You only like little boys?”
Nicole stood straight, her spine rigid, refusing to let this awful man see her fear. Her grandfather’s voice came to her: “The Courtalains carry the blood of kings.” Her eyes darted toward the door. Maybe she could get past him to the outside.
Abe chuckled deep in his throat. “There’s no way to get out past me. You might as well just lay back and enjoy it. And don’t expect Isaac to come rescue you either. He’ll be gone for hours.”
Nicole moved slowly along the wall. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t give in to him easily.
Before she’d taken one good step, a long arm shot out and grabbed a handful of her hair. Slowly, very slowly, he wound the thick mass around his hand and drew her to him.
“Clean,” he whispered. “I bet that’s the cleanest hair I ever smelt. Some men don’t like black hair, but I do.” He chuckled. “I guess you’re real lucky that I do.”
“I don’t think you’ll get as much ransom if you harm me,” she said, his face close to hers. His little eyes were almost black as he stared at her, and he smelled of old sweat and rotten teeth.
“You’re a cool one,” he said, grinning. “How come you ain’t cryin’ and beggin’?”
She gave him a cold look, refusing to allow her fear to show. Her grandfather had faced an angry mob. What was one dirty, evil-minded man compared to that?
He held her by the hair close to him. He ran his other hand over her shoulder, down her arm, his thumb caressing the curve of her breast. “Your value don’t depend on what I do to you. As long as I keep you alive, I can have my fun with you.”
“What do you mean?” Nicole thought maybe she could keep him talking.
“Never mind. I ain’t interested in explainin’ myself to you.” His hand moved to the curve of her hip. “That’s a real pretty dress, but it’s gettin’ in my way. Take it off!”
“No,” she said quietly.
He pulled her hair until her neck threatened to break.
Her eyes teared from the pain, but still she would not undress herself. She would not play the whore for any man.
He released her abruptly, then laughed. “You are the haughtiest bitch I ever did meet.” He went to the doorway and picked up the ropes Isaac had left on the floor. “Since you won’t do it yourself, maybe I’ll just have to help you. You know, I ain’t ever seen a woman without a stitch of clothes on.”
“No,” Nicole whispered, and backed away, her hands vainly trying to hold on to the stone wall behind her.
Abe laughed as he lunged at her and grabbed her by one shoulder. She tried to twist away, but she couldn’t as his thick fingers bit into her flesh. He forced her to her knees. Nicole moved forward and sank her teeth into the muscle just above his knee. The next moment, she was sent sprawling across the room.
“Damn you!” Abe swore. “You’ll pay for that.”
He grabbed her ankle and tied one end of a rope around it. The rough hemp cut into her already sore flesh. She kicked at him, but he held her easily. He grabbed her arms and tied the wrists together. There was an iron hook embedded in the stone wall where game had once been hung. Abe lifted Nicole by the rope around her wrists and tied her to it. Her feet barely touched the floor.
She gasped at the pain of her extended arms. He tied her feet together, then lashed the rope to another hook. She was helpless, tied tightly to the wall.
Abe stood back and admired his handiwork. “You don’t look like such a fine lady now,” he said, rubbing his leg where she’d bitten him. He took a long knife from his pocket.
Nicole’s eyes widened at the sight.
“Now you look like you’re gainin’ the proper respect for a man. One thing my pa knows for sure is how to treat a woman. All them women at the Backes’s house make me sick. Their husbands let ’em talk, give ’em money to bet on the horses. You’d think they were men, the way they acted. Some of ’em think they’re better’n men. Last summer I asked one of those girls to marry me, and you know what she did? She laughed at me. I was payin’ her a great honor, and she laughed at me! Just like you! You fit in right well with them. You’re so pretty, married to a rich man, you couldn’t even give me the time of day.”
The pain in Nicole’s arms was too much to allow her much room to think. Vaguely, she was aware of Abe’s rantings. Maybe she had been guilty of ignoring him, of snubbing him. “Please release me,” she whispered. “Clay will pay you whatever you want.”
“Clay!” he sneered. “How can he give me what I want? Can he give me a lifetime away from a crazy father? Can he make a real lady agree to marry me? No! But he can give me a few hours’ pleasure with his lady.”
He moved closer to her, the knife upraised. His eyes sparkled with threat. He slipped the knife under the first button of the bodice of her gown. She drew her breath in sharply as the cold steel touched her skin. The button popped off and flew across the little room.
One by one, he cut the buttons off, then he slashed the satin sash that held the dress under her breast. He put his hand to her and gently parted the wine-colored velvet. He caressed her right breast through her thin chemise.
“Nice,” he whispered. “Real nice.” He used the tip of the blade to cut the chemise away neatly.
Her breasts lay bare before him. Nicole closed her eyes, tears squeezing out at the corners.
Abe stepped back to admire her. “You don’t look much like a lady now,” he smiled. “You look just like them women in Boston. They liked me. They begged me to come back to them.” Suddenly, his mouth turned hard. “Let’s see the rest of you.”
He inserted the knife at the top of the long skirt and very slowly slashed the velvet to the hem. It hung open, exposing the nearly transparent chemise beneath.
“Lace,” Abe whispered as he lifted the hem of the chemise. “My ma always wanted a piece of real lace so she could make a collar for her Sunday dress. And here you’re wearin’ lace on your underclothes.” With a swift, violent motion, he jerked the chemise away.
He stared at her nude body, the round hips, the small waist, and her breasts lifted high by her uplifted arms. He ran his hand up one thigh. “So this is what ladies look like under all their silks and velvets. No wonder Clay and Travis and them others let ’em backtalk.”
“Abe!” Isaac called. “You inside? One of the oars broke and—” He stopped as he entered the cabin doorway. What he saw nearly made him ill. Nicole was tied to the wall, her arms stretched far over her head. Abe’s body blocked Isaac’s view, but the boy could see the pieces of Nicole’s dress, the shreds of her chemise hanging to the floor. Isaac’s boyish face turned from confusion to anger to rage.
�
��You said she wouldn’t be hurt,” he said through clenched teeth. “I trusted you.”
Abe turned on his little brother. “And I told you to go back to the sloop. I gave you an order, and I expected it to be obeyed.” He still held his knife, now aimed at Isaac.
“So you could use her, is that why you wanted me out of the way? Were you planning to use her like you did the little Samuels girl? Her parents had to send her away after that. She was scared to go to sleep at night, scared you’d come for her. Only she wouldn’t say who you were, but I knew.”
“So what?” Abe said. “You make her sound like she was a child. She was engaged to one of the Peterson boys. She was givin’ it to him, so why not to me?”
“You!” Isaac choked. “No woman would ever want you. I’ve seen ’em try to be nice to you, but you only wanted the ones you had to take.” He grabbed the bucket at his feet and threw it at Abe’s head. “I’m sick of watchin’ you use women! I’ve had enough! You let her go!”
Abe easily dodged the flying bucket. He grinned maliciously. “Remember the last time you defied me, boy?” he said, circling, crouched over, the knife passing from one hand to the other.
Isaac glanced at Nicole when Abe moved away. He wasn’t excited by the woman’s helpless position. It repulsed him. He looked back at Abe. “I remember that I was twelve the last time,” he said quietly.
“So the boy thinks he’s become a man,” Abe laughed.
“Yes, I have.”
Isaac lunged so fast that Abe didn’t really see his little brother move. He was used to a controllable, awkward child. He hadn’t seen his brother grow up.
When Abe first felt his brother’s fist in his face, he was astonished. He slammed back against the stone wall, the breath nearly leaving him. When he eased himself up, his rage matched Isaac’s. No longer did he think he was fighting his own brother.
“Look out!” Nicole screamed at Isaac as Abe lunged forward. The knife blade sank into Isaac’s thigh, and Abe pulled it up, making a deep, long slash.
Isaac gasped and jerked away from the knife. The cut was too deep to bleed much yet. He grabbed Abe’s wrist, forcing his older brother down. The knife fell to the floor and, like a cat, Isaac grabbed it. Abe’s arm swung out as he tried to take the knife, and he felt it cut into his shoulder.
He jumped back to the safety of the wall by the door, his hand over the cut in his shoulder. Blood was beginning to ooze between his fingers. “You want her for yourself, is that it?” he said through clenched teeth. “You can have her!” He turned quickly and slipped through the open doorway. He slammed the door shut, and Nicole and Isaac could hear the bolt being shot home.
Isaac stumbled toward the door and made one weak effort to throw his weight against it. His leg was beginning to bleed, and he was going into shock.
“Isaac!” Nicole called as she saw his eyes begin to close as he leaned his back against the door. “Cut me loose, and I’ll help you. Isaac!” she called again when he didn’t seem to hear her.
In a blur of pain, Isaac stumbled toward her and lifted his arm toward the ropes binding her hands.
“Cut it, Isaac,” she encouraged when he seemed about to forget where he was and what he needed to do.
He used the last of his strength to saw at the ropes, which were, thankfully, half rotten. When the rope fell away, Isaac collapsed to the dirt floor of the cabin and Nicole fell forward onto her hands and knees. Quickly, she untied her ankles.
Abe’s bloody knife was on the floor. Quickly, she cut away her chemise, tore it into strips, then cut away Isaac’s trousers to expose his wound. It was deep but clean. She bound it tightly to stop the bleeding. Isaac seemed to be in shock, not saying anything, not moving. When she finished with his leg, she gave him a little water to drink, but he wouldn’t take it.
Suddenly, she was so very tired. She sat down, leaned against the stone wall, and pulled Isaac’s head into her lap. The contact seemed to soothe him. She stroked his dark hair away from his forehead, then put her head against the wall. They were locked inside a stout stone cabin. They had no food or other supplies. They were on a desolate island where no one could find them, yet Nicole suddenly felt safer than she had in the last twenty-four hours. She slept.
Chapter 14
THE SIMMONS FARM WAS LOCATED ON A BACKWATER piece of land twelve miles upriver from the Armstrong plantation. It was worthless land, rocky and unfertile. The house was little more than a shack, small, filthy, the roof needing patching. The yard of hard-packed earth was filled with chickens, dogs, a litter of pigs, and several half-dressed children.
Travis tied the sloop to the rotting wharf while Clay jumped ashore and walked toward the house, the other men behind him. The children looked up from their chores to stare with sullen, uncurious eyes. Even as young as they were, they were beaten. They’d lived a life of constant hard work with a father who told them they were doomed to the fires of eternal damnation.
Clay ignored the children as he bellowed, “Elijah Simmons!”
The skinny old man appeared from inside the house. “What d’you want?” he asked, his little eyes sleepy, as if he’d just been awakened. He turned to one of the children, a little girl of no more than four. In her lap was a chicken, and she was wearily plucking the feathers from it. “You, girl!” Elijah said. “You better not leave any pinfeathers on that bird. You do, and I’ll take you to the woodshed.”
Clayton looked with disgust at the old man. He slept while his children labored. “I want to talk to you.”
As the dirty old man began to wake up, his little eyes narrowed to hardly more than slits. “So! The heathen has come to seek his salvation. You’ll need forgiveness for your whoring ways.”
Clay grabbed the man’s shirt front, lifting him so that his feet barely touched the ground. “I don’t need any of your preaching! Do you know where my wife is?”
“Your wife?” the man spat. “Scarlet women are not made into wives. She’s a daughter of Satan and should be taken from the earth.”
Clay’s fist smashed into the man’s long, bony face. He slammed against the doorjamb and slid downward slowly.
“Clay!” Travis said, his hand on his friend’s arm. “You aren’t going to get anything out of him. He’s crazy.” Travis turned to the children. “Where’s your mother?”
The children looked up from the chickens and beans they were working with and shrugged. They were so beaten, so defeated, that not even seeing their father hit interested them.
“I’m here,” said a soft voice from behind the men. Mrs. Simmons was even thinner than her husband. Her eyes were sunken, her cheeks hollow.
“We heard that my wife was seen getting into a boat with your son. She’s been missing for nearly two days now.”
Mrs. Simmons nodded tiredly as if the news was no shock to her. “I ain’t seen her or nobody who’s a stranger.” She put her hand behind her lower back to ease the pain. She looked to be six months pregnant. She didn’t deny the idea that her son could have had something to do with Nicole’s disappearance.
“Where’s Abe?” Wesley asked.
Mrs. Simmons shrugged. Her eyes darted toward her husband, who was regaining consciousness. She looked as if she wanted to escape before he was fully awake. “Abe ain’t been home for days.”
“You don’t know where he went? Does he know?” Clay asked, nodding toward Elijah.
“Abe don’t tell anybody much. He and Isaac took the sloop and went off. Sometimes they’re gone for days.”
“You don’t know where?” Clay asked desperately.
Travis grabbed Clay’s arm. “She doesn’t know anything, and I doubt if the old man does either. Abe wouldn’t have let them know what he planned. I think the best thing we can do is send out a search party. We can send people to the houses up and down the river and ask if they’ve seen anything.”
Clay nodded silently. He knew that was the sensible thing to do, but it would take so much time. He tried to block out the vision o
f Abe and Nicole. Abe was a man warped by many years of living under Elijah’s stern, insane rule. He turned away and headed back to the sloop. His rage at his sense of frustration was horrible! He wanted to destroy and maim, anything but this slow talking, talking, talking.
Wes walked behind Clay and his brother as they returned to the sloop. He stopped when a handful of pebbles hit his back.
“Psst! Over here.”
Wes looked toward the shrubs by the river and could barely see the outline of a small figure. He walked toward it, and a young girl stepped out. She was a pretty little thing with big green eyes. Although she was cleaner than the other Simmons children, she was dressed in a ragged, thin cotton dress. “Did you want me?”
She stared at him in wonder. “You’re one of them rich men, ain’t ya? One of them what lives in a big house on the river?”
Wes knew he was rich compared to this child. He nodded once.
She looked around her to make sure no one else was near. “I know somethin’ about where Abe’s gone,” she whispered.
Instantly, Wes bent to one knee. “What?” he demanded.
“My ma has a cousin, a lady cousin. That’s hard to believe, ain’t it? This cousin come to Virginia, and Abe said she was gonna give us some money. He and Pa and Isaac went to a party, a real party,” she breathed. “I never been to a party.”
“What did Abe say?” Wes asked impatiently.
“He came home, and I heard him tell Isaac they were gonna take some lady away and hide her. Then Mama’s cousin would give them some of Mr. Armstrong’s cows.”
“Clay’s?” Wes asked, puzzled. “Where did they take the lady? Who is your mother’s cousin?”
“Abe only said he knew where he was takin’ the lady, and he wouldn’t even tell Isaac.”
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