“Didn’t…want you…to see me…like this,” Lena gasped, obviously in pain. “Knew…it was…gettin’ bad. Didn’t know…what to do…for my kind of sickness.”
Kitty realized right away what her mother was talking about. She obviously had the dreaded disease that some people got from having sex and not being choosy about who they had it with. That, and becoming pregnant, had been fears she herself had lived with. She’d seen many soldiers with it, too, some of them in agony, their bodies broken out in open, pus-filled, draining sores.
“I’m going to go back to the hospital and get some rosin pills, sassafras…” Kitty babbled in fright, pushing back the damp hair from Lena’s forehead. “We have some pieces of blue vitrol, too. I’ll come back and sponge down that fever, and we’ll move you to the hospital in the morning.” She was speaking more to herself than to her mother right then, her mind frantic, knowing how sick she was.
She had been sitting on the side of the bed and moved to get up, but Lena’s hand crept across the sheet to touch hers, to clasp it weakly. “Want you to know…I always loved you. The war…the war did this…to all of us…your pa…”
“Momma, the last I heard, Poppa was alive,” Kitty said through her tears. “Now don’t you fret. I won’t be gone long. I’m going to get some things I need and in the morning I’ll have someone help me take you to the hospital. I live in a small room there, but there’s room for another cot. You can stay with me, Momma, and together we’ll find a way to make it. The house may be gone, and the barn, but it’s our land. We’ll make it—I know we will.” She was babbling, frightened. Lena looked terribly sick, It was plain now why one one had helped her or wanted to go near her, even if they had cared just a little. Everyone was afraid of what Lena had.
“No hope…”
“Yes, there is hope, Momma. There’s always hope. We have to believe in that. Now I have to leave you for a little while to get some medicine for you. We have to get that fever down.”
Lena was crying. “I only wanted…the best for you.”
“Momma, I know, I know,” she said, patting Lena’s hand. Kitty stood up. “Now I have to leave. I won’t be gone long.”
“Forgive me…” she said, breaking into great, racking sobs.
“Now you stop that!” Kitty said fiercely, sitting down again and leaning over to place her hands on Lena’s shoulders and giving her a gentle little shake. “Poppa was alive the last I heard, fighting with the Yankee cavalry up in Tennessee. They say he’s the strongest, bravest, fiercest soldier in the whole Union army. He’s going to come out of this alive—I know he is. And if he doesn’t want to come home, if they won’t let him, then we’ll sell the farm and go to him. We’ll start a new life somewhere else. Now stop that crying, you hear? You need your strength. You have to get well—get out of this place.”
The sobs quieted. Kitty stood up and waited. Her mother was now very still, her eyes closed. She was either asleep or had fainted—for the moment, the suffering was gone. Hurrying from the room, Kitty made her way downstairs once more, pushed through the crowded room, and stepped out into the street.
She ran most of the way back to the hospital, and when she bounded up the steps, lifting her skirt so as not to trip, Lonnie stepped quickly out of the shadows to stare at her in alarm. “What happened? Is someone chasing you?”
Brushing by him, she mumbled only that her mother was ill, then hurried into the hospital to get the items she needed from the supply closets. When she returned, carrying a doctor’s borrowed satchel, Lonnie blocked her path.
“I’m going with you.”
“No, I don’t want you to go with me, Lonnie. Not now.” She didn’t want anyone to see the filth her mother lived in, the degradation surrounding her.
She pushed by him, then paused apologetically. “Lonnie, I appreciate your concern, honestly I do. But this is something I have to do myself.”
“But a woman has no business out there on the streets alone, this time of night.”
“Please. I can take care of myself.”
She hurried on down the steps, impatient to get to her mother. How sick was she? It was hard to tell. All the doctors were busy. A trainload of wounded had just arrived and everyone at the hospital was bustling about treating the new patients. She needed to be with them but for the moment, Lena had to come first. She couldn’t even ask one of the doctors to leave and come with her. Not now. It would be much better if she could bring the fever down herself and then have one of the men at the saloon help move Lena to the hospital. Perhaps Joe, the bartender, would help. He didn’t seem too bad a sort.
So many thoughts were whirling about in her head. Could the terrible disease be cured? She doubted it. Some were, some were not. Lena’s case seemed pretty advanced. The house and barn were gone. There was no home to go to. The hospital was the only refuge for the moment. Would the South win the war? And if it lost, what then? What would happen to all of them? And Nathan, was it really and truly over between them? Could they ever love again? Or were they merely suffering agonies of love caused by the grimness of war? And Travis, if he lived, if she ever saw him again, what would she feel? What would he feel? Oh, God, there was so much confusion and turmoil both around her and within her.
She was approaching the vacant lot, overgrown with shrubs and weeds and thick undergrowth. Shivering, she almost crossed the street but instead chided herself for being so foolish and continued on her way. It was but a short distance to the main street and she was almost running in her haste to get out of the darkness and into the light.
It happened so quickly that there was no warning of danger. Suddenly a figure loomed up out of the shadows, blocking her path.
At the split second that the scream bubbled its way up and into her throat, ready to emerge and split the stillness of the night, a hand clamped tightly her face, stifling any sound. The satchel tumbled to the ground as an arm went about her chest, pinning her hands to her sides.
And then he was there, sour breath falling hotly on her face, eyes blazing ominously in the darkness. “We meet again, you little tiger, and I’ve got quite a score to settle with you.”
Above, in the inky sky, a cloud moved slightly, parted, and a thin shaft of moonlight filtered down through the night.
And in that moonlight, she recognized the hated, leering face of the one man she feared above all others—Luke Tate.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Kitty struggled in vain against the man who held her. Finally, she was able to twist her face to part her lips and bit down on a finger that slid between her teeth. Yelping, he let her go, and she was able to scream.
“Goddamn you.” Luke reached out for her, but she twisted from his grasp, then lost her balance and tumbled to the ground. She was struggling to get to her feet when she felt him grabbing her from behind. And just at that moment footsteps came thundering down the dirt street. Someone was yelling.
Luke shouted to his men to bring the horses. Kitty felt herself being lifted in his arms and she struggled with all her might, kicking, scratching. A gun exploded somewhere close by, then another. More yells and screams, and then something crashed into the side of her head and everything went black, dissolving into a vast nothingness.
When she opened her eyes, it was daylight. She was lying on her stomach across the back of a horse, her body painfully jostled as the animal galloped. The ground sped by in a blur beneath her gaze. A dull, throbbing pain spread from the back of her head all the way around to her cheek. Her hands were tied behind her back. A sharp throb ached along her legs. Turning her head slightly, she could see and hear more horses, thundering along beside her, around her, in front and in back.
“Hey, she’s awake,” someone yelled.
“We need to stop and rest a spell.” There was another voice. The jostling slowed. Kitty was gasping for breath. Mercifully, the horse stopped. She felt herself being pulled back, set on her feet.
Gazing into the mocking face of Luke Tate, Kitty fe
lt anger so strong that it constricted her whole body, making her quiver and shake.
“Ain’t you going to say hello to an old friend, my pretty little tiger?” He grinned that yellow-toothed smirk that made her cringe in fearful anticipation of what lay ahead. God, why did this have to happen—and now? For an instant, she closed her eyes, lifted her face to the skies, and silently asked her Maker what had ever provoked Him to send down such wrath.
Then she faced him. “Why did you do this to me, Luke? Why couldn’t you leave me in peace? My mother is sick, very sick. She needs me.”
“You knowed it was me back there in that saloon. You think I was going to let you put the Rebs on my ass? Tell them I was the one that killed Doc Musgrave and all the rest? Hell, no. That’s why I brought you with me, my pretty, that and the memory of all the good times we had together.” He chuckled and it was an evil, nasty sound.
“Don’t you touch her!”
Kitty snapped around to gasp at the sight of Lonnie Carter, sitting atop a horse, hands tied behind his back.
“I remembered how you tend to cooperate when you have a buddy along,” Luke said matter-of-factly. “He came tearing out of that hospital with some more Rebs. We killed them and brought him along.”
“But why?” Tears were stinging her eyes. “Just let us go, please. Let me go back and take care of my mother, and I swear to you I’ll never mention a word about you, Luke.”
“I doubt you could be trusted. Besides, there’s probably a posse out after us since we killed a few of those bastards.”
“That’s right, Luke. You’ve got us in one hell of a mess. So what do we do now?”
The man speaking was big and dirty, and as he stepped forward, Kitty fought the impulse to gag at the filthy odor that emanated from his body. There was a purplish scar winding its way across his face, pulling down the corner of one eye to give him an ugly, grotesque look. He towered above Luke and when he spoke, a gravel-huskiness to the tone, it was obvious that Luke stood a bit in awe of him.
“She would’ve told. I know she would. I had to do what I did.”
“So what do we do now? These parts is crawling with soldiers looking for bushwhackers and ‘Buffaloes’, and here we are travelin’ with a Reb and a woman. You think we ain’t going to attract attention? I say head for the hills and leave these two right here.”
Kitty was silently counting the men with Luke. Besides him and the scar-face, there were fourteen others. And they were all heavily armed. Then her eyes fell on the borrowed satchel tied to the saddle of the horses she’d been lying across. In the bottom of that satchel was a tiny surgeon’s scalpel—beneath the medicine she’d stuffed inside. At the time, it had occurred to her it wouldn’t be needed, but why take the time to remove it, either? Now she was glad it was in there, for it gave her some feeling of self-protection, however slim it might be against sixteen men. Still, she thought with a chill of anger, if Luke touched her—even if it meant her own life—she was surely going to take his.
“Listen, Jabe,” Luke was saying, “I know what I’m doing. This woman’s smart when it comes to doctorin’. We can use her if we get into a skirmish.”
“Ain’t plannin’ on gettin’ in no skirmish, Luke. I’m headin’ out west to California, out of all this goddamned fightin’ and killin’. Now you comin’ with me, or you goin’ to hang around here and wind up with a bullet in your gut or a rope around your neck? We’re hated by both sides, you know? I’m gettin’ out while I still can…headin’ straight for the mountains and then due west!”
A cry of approval came up from the others. Kitty watched as Luke’s gaze darted around; he realized he was outnumbered. Finally, he looked back at Jabe. “Okay, I’m comin’ along. But let me take the girl for a little while at least. She’s good, I tell you, and she’ll warm your bed like no other woman can,” he added with a meaningful snicker.
Jabe’s eyes flicked over her, falling on her heaving bosom as he ran his tongue across his lips. “Yeah, I guess so. We’ll keep her awhile, just for fun, but when I say she goes, she goes. Understand?”
Luke nodded eagerly. So he was no longer the leader, Kitty thought with satisfaction. The scar-face was obviously in control.
Luke was pointing his finger at her. “Get back on that horse and don’t try nothin’ funny,” he barked. “For now, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about ‘cept keepin’ me and Jabe filled with our pleasures. You try anything and that Reb soldier-friend of yours will suffer for it.”
“You son of a bitch, I’ll gladly die for her,” Lonnie cried, straining at the ropes around his wrists, his face purple with rage. “I’d rather die than see you lay a hand on her!”
“And I’d rather die than let you touch me again,” Kitty screamed, reaching out to rake her nails down one side of Luke’s face before he sent her sprawling to the ground with one slap of his hand.
Stepping forward, he placed one booted foot on her chest to hold her firmly on the ground. Gasping, she clutched at the boot, frying to remove the heavy weight, but he laughed down at her and pressed harder. “Now get something straight once and for all,” he barked gruffly. “There’s worse things than death. You give me any more trouble and so help me, God, we’ll hold that Reb down and cut both his legs off and let him bleed to death. You understand? And then I’ll cut your face up so no man’ll ever have you again—once I let my men take turns with you. So which is it goin’ to be?”
She looked at Lonnie whose face had turned pale. A man sitting on a horse next to him was turning a large knife over and over in his hands. Then, while Kitty watched in horror, the man reached out with one quick swipe and slashed across the top of Lonnie’s right thigh. Lonnie screamed as blood began to spurt forward.
“It ain’t deep,” the man with the knife snickered. “But it can be.”
“Now what’s it going to be?” Luke snarled.
She nodded helplessly. For the moment, it was all she could do.
Night fell and still they rode on, wanting to put as much distance between them and Wayne County as possible. When they stopped, it was only to water the horses and sip themselves from the muddied streams. The only food was hardtack and a few corn dodgers. Kitty was so heartsick over her plight and so worried about what was to become of her mother that she could not swallow, even though her throat was parched and her stomach rumbled with hunger pangs.
Finally, toward the evening of the second day when they stopped to rest, Luke wrapped his beefy hand around her throat and forced her to her knees. As he plunged her face into the stream, she saw the wiggle-tails, the mold, and the slime along its edge.
“Drink, damn you.” Luke pushed her head into the water as she choked and gagged. “You think I’m goin’ to let you die on me? Drink, I say.”
He raised her head, then pushed it down once again and over and over until he was obviously satisfied that she did, indeed, swallow some of the water. Then he thrust a corn dodger into her hand. “Eat this, or I’ll force it down your throat.”
Obediently, she began chewing the tasteless morsel as Luke knelt in front of her to make sure she did. Somewhere a gun exploded, and both of them sprang to their feet just as one of the men came crashing out of the woods to cry jubilantly, “A deer! We shot ourselves a deer! We’ll feast tonight!”
A fire was built and the venison roasted. Someone brought out a jug, then another, and Kitty hid in the shadows, watching as the men drank themselves into a stupor. Something told her that tonight would be the night that Luke would force himself upon her.
Tied to a tree, Lonnie leaned over and motioned with his eyes for her to come to him. She crept to the tree and he whispered, voice quivering with emotion, “Miss Kitty, I don’t care what they do to me. Don’t let them hurt you if you can help it. I’d rather die. It’s a matter of honor.”
“I think…” she said, speaking with such amazing calmness that it stunned her when she thought about it later, “I think that I, too, am ready to die, Lonnie. It’s all over.”
Nimbly, she stole through the night to where the horses were tied. The satchel was still hanging from the saddle. Reaching inside, fumbling through the medicine intended for Lena, her fingers closed around the scalpel. Bending over, she slid it carefully into the side of her high-top shoe. She would have to walk cautiously lest it cut into her own flesh.
She knew what had to be done. Returning to the tree and sitting down next to Lonnie, she whispered, “Do you think they will leave you tied here all night?”
“I haven’t been untied since the night we left Goldsboro.” He sounded defeated. “They force water in my mouth and stuff food down my throat. I don’t have any idea they’ll do otherwise now. God, Kitty, I think death would be sweeter. They’re going to wind up killing us anyway.”
Slowly, she pulled the little knife from her boot and snaked her arm around behind the tree. Feeling for the ropes that bound him, she told him she was going to cut him free, but he should wait until the time was right before making his move. “Luke Tate is getting drunk right along with the rest of them, but I have all ideas he’s going to rape me tonight. Now when he tries, I’m going to put this knife in his throat. When you hear the commotion, you run for a horse and get away. Don’t worry about me.”
He looked at her, shocked, face glistening with perspiration in the soft glow from the dying embers of the fire nearby. “You know I ain’t gonna leave you behind.”
“Oh, I have an idea that when they realize what I’ve done to Luke, they’re going to kill me right away.” Again, she was surprised at her calmness. “If there’s a chance, I’ll try to escape, too. Otherwise, you go on and just do me one favor.”
He watched her intently.
“I want you to promise me you’ll head right back to Goldsboro as quick as you can and find my mother and get her to the hospital. If you don’t, she’ll die. She may already be dead.”
Love and War: The Coltrane Saga, Book 1 Page 44