Savage Possession

by Margaret Tanner

  “Poor little soul,” the housekeeper said. “What sort of fiend would do this to a child?”

  “Jeb Mueller is a vicious thief,” Martin spat the words out. “Used to bash his wife around, I didn’t know he mistreated the boy as well.”

  “He belted Toby almost to death, because he didn’t clean one of the stalls out,” Beth told them. “They should put him in jail.”

  “He breeds horses for the police, would have to kill the boy before the law touched him.” Martin inspected Toby’s back. “He’s cut through to the bone in places, poor little devil. No wonder he’s in agony. We’ll have to get the pus out otherwise the infection will poison his whole system. Go upstairs, Elizabeth, you’re on the verge of collapse.”

  “No.” She shook her head and tried to still her trembling hands by putting them behind her back. “I’ll stay.”

  “Do as I say, the next few minutes will be ugly, and I don’t want you here.” Martins stood stiff legged, feet apart, features grim and unyielding.

  “I have to stay, Toby needs me.”

  “You won’t help him by fainting away. It will frighten him more.”

  “I want to stay.”

  Martin gazed into her distressed eyes and somehow knew that if she could have changed places with the boy, she would have done so.

  “Mr. Mulvaney’s right, go upstairs, you’re exhausted. We can cope down here,” Mrs. Irvine soothed.

  Beth plucked Martin’s sleeve. “I should stay, I found him.”

  “Don’t you trust me to care for him?” His mouth twisted. “He’ll come to no harm. I know what he’s been through. Who would know better than me,” he said bitterly. “If it hadn’t been for Sam, my father would have beaten me to within an inch of my life, too. I’ve lost count of the number of times Sam saved me from a flogging.”

  Beth reached out to stroke his cheek. “How could a father be so cruel?”

  “Elizabeth, please. Go upstairs. Make sure you close the bedroom door.”

  “Do as the boss says, Mrs. Mulvaney. I’ll bring you up a nice cup of tea when we finish here.”

  What he was about to do sickened him, but they had to get the poison out and clean the wounds up. It would be too much for Elizabeth to bear. “Upstairs, and don’t come down, no matter what,” he ordered. “I’ll fetch you when we’ve finished.”

  Mrs. Irvine brought in a dish. Beth gasped in shock on seeing a knife in the boiling water.

  “What are you going to do?” Fear and anxiety pooled in her throat.

  “Some of the wounds are badly infected, they need to be lanced.”

  “No! He won’t be able to stand the pain.”

  “He’ll have to. It’s either that or die,” he said, deliberately being brutal.

  Beth turned and fled.

  “Mr. Mulvaney!”

  “I had to be harsh so she wouldn’t stay here. You know how fragile she is.”

  Beth raced up to the bedroom, slammed the door shut and threw herself on the bed. She heard Toby scream, and wrapped a pillow around her head to blot out his agonized cries. Never would she forget the sounds of his torment.

  Martin came up a little while later. As she heard the door open, she buried her head in the pillow. The bed sagged when he sat down.

  “I’m sorry, storm girl.” He gathered her into his arms. “I had to be cruel, so you wouldn’t stay. I couldn’t let you see what we did.” He rocked her gently. “Toby’s asleep now, Mrs. Irvine made up a bed for him downstairs. You can go and sit with him later.”

  “I could hear the screams.” She nuzzled her face into his throat.

  “He’ll be all right now.” Martin held her with one arm wrapped around her trembling body, his free hand resting on her soft shiny hair.

  “I’m a cry baby,” she sniffed. “I can’t bear to watch people suffer.”

  “You’re too emotional, makes you vulnerable to hurt.”

  “What will become of him?”

  “When he’s recovered, I’ll take him to his aunt. She must be a good woman if he’s so desperate to get to her.”

  “And Jeb?”

  “I’ll deal with him if he comes here, have no fear. Now I want you to rest, you have to think of the child. Getting upset isn’t good for either of you. Here, I’ll help you out of your gown.” He started to unbutton her bodice.

  “Stay with me.”

  “No. You would get no rest if I did. I’ll be downstairs in the study. I’ve got some work I can do there in case Mrs. Irvine needs help with Toby.”

  He closed each of her eyes with a feather light kiss, and she snuggled under the blankets. Toby was safe now; he would get well thanks to Martin. Her eyes grew heavy and soon she slept.

  * * *

  For the first two days, they kept a twenty-four-hour vigil on Toby. His fever eased and by the third day, he sat up and ate small servings of the special food Mrs. Irvine prepared for him.

  Beth read to him. The poor boy could neither read nor write. What a terrible life he must have led even when his mother lived. When she died, Toby must have felt as if he had been transported into hell.

  On the afternoon of the fourth day, while Martin was away, Beth heard riders out the front of the castle then someone pounded on the door. A thin, rat-faced man stood there, while several mounted police and an aboriginal tracker remained on their horses.

  “Mrs. Mulvaney?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Jeb Mueller.”

  Beth’s heart hammered in her chest. “Do you want my husband?” Inwardly quaking, she forced a smile. The fiend who had tortured Toby had a face that looked like weather-beaten leather, his eyes crazed and vicious.

  “I’m searching for my son, Toby. Young devil ran away.”

  “He’s not here.”

  “We tracked him to a hayshed on this property.”

  “I haven’t seen him around here. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  “Listen lady.” His veneer of friendliness evaporated. “I know the little wretch is here and I want him.” He swung around to face the police. “Search the house.”

  Beth slammed the door on him and bolted it from the inside. Dashing out to the kitchen she also locked the door there.

  “Mrs. Irvine, Jeb Mueller is out the front with the police.”

  A fist pounded on the front door.

  “It’s a foot thick,” Mrs. Irvine said. “They’ll never be able to force it open.”

  “What if they break a window? Mueller looks so vicious I think he’s insane. He’s got the meanest eyes.” Beth shuddered. “I wish Martin was here.”

  Mueller’s frenzied shouting woke Toby. His small body shook with terrified sobs.

  “It’s all right,” Beth soothed. “We won’t let him hurt you.”

  The noise stopped. In the sudden stillness, she heard horses on the gravel proceeding around the back. They were making for the kitchen door. It was locked, but had nowhere near the strength of the front one. Would they dare force their way in?

  “Mrs. Irvine, what can we do?”

  “I don’t know. We can’t let that brute have the little fellow. If only the boss was here.”

  “In the name of the law, Mrs. Mulvaney, open the door,” ordered one of the police.

  “Or we’ll break it down,” Jeb yelled out the last few words.

  Alistair always maintained the local police were corrupt. Mueller bred horses for them, so they would side with him. Martin said Mueller could not be turned in to the law for what he did to Toby because he hadn’t killed him.

  Toby wept, Mrs. Irvine wrung her hands, so Beth had to do something to summon Martin. Could she sneak out and find him? No, it would take too long. Rushing out of the kitchen, she returned with one of his rifles and several bullets.

  “Mrs. Mulvaney,” Mrs. Irvine cried out in shock. “You can’t shoot them.”

  “I won’t, though I’d like to.” She loaded the gun. “I’ll let off a couple of shots in the air. Martin will hear them and come back.�
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  * * *

  Martin heard a shot, followed by another and another. Four shots fired in quick succession from the direction of the castle. He raced to his horse, mounted and spurred it into a gallop. What was happening? Fear like nothing he ever experienced before dried up his mouth and caused his heart to slam into his chest wall. Silky soft hair, compassionate blue eyes and a soft sweet body, the thought of what might have happened to his storm girl nearly killed him.

  He was almost demented with worry by the time the castle came into view. Seeing Jeb and the police crowded outside the kitchen, he pulled so hard on the reins the horse reared. Leaping from the saddle, he dashed over to them.

  “That mad woman in there has my boy, and I want him.”

  Martin ignored Jeb and pushed past him.

  “Open the door.”

  “Is that you, Martin?”

  “Of course it is. What’s going on?”

  Beth opened the door and collapsed in his arms. “Mueller tried to get in. I thought they might break the door down.”

  “Who fired the gun?” He put her to one side, blocking the doorway with his body.

  “I did. I wanted you to come and help, I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “You little fool, you could have killed someone.” Including yourself, he thought, furious with her for causing him such worry.

  “I know how to use a rifle. Grandfather taught me so I could protect myself.”

  “What about my boy?” Jeb yelled, trying to shove past Martin. “I want him.”

  “We haven’t seen him,” Beth lied.

  “He’s here, Mueller.”

  “Martin!” She pushed herself away from him. “You promised you wouldn’t tell.” The words were dredged up from deep within her. Martin had betrayed them.

  “How could you?” she whispered brokenly.

  “Bring him out, Mulvaney.”

  “The boy’s here, Mueller, and this is where he stays.”

  “We’ll come in after him.”

  “I don’t think so.” Martin did not even raise his voice, yet menace dripped from every word. “You men,” he spoke to the police. “I’d head back to town if you know what’s good for you, or I’ll report you to the Commissioner. This contemptible creature flogged his boy almost to death. If my wife hadn’t found him he’d be dead, and you’d have a murder on your hands.”

  “Mulvaney’s lying,” Jeb blustered. “I gave the lazy little wretch a bit of a belting.”

  “The boy’s back is cut to the bone. Now get on your horses and get off my property. If you ever come near that boy again, Mueller, so help me, I’ll flog you until you have no flesh left on your own back.” Jeb backed away.

  “I happen to know how you got your mares in foal, too,” Martin went on, cold fury in his voice. “A few words in the right ears will have you up for hefty service fees. Could put you out of business altogether.” Martin’s face looked as if it had been hewn from granite. “The commissioner would be most interested in your breeding program.”

  “All right, Mulvaney, you keep him.”

  “I knew you’d see things my way,” Martin replied with barely restrained savagery.

  “I’ll get you for this, Mulvaney, see if I don’t,” Jeb threatened.

  “You’ll do nothing. I hold all the aces and I won’t be afraid to use them.”

  Jeb scuttled back to his horse and rode off with the police.

  “Oh, you were magnificent.” Beth sagged with relief.

  “Miserable, thieving sonofabitch. If I set eyes on him any time soon, I’ll take him apart with my bare hands.”

  “What does he do with his mares?” she asked, rubbing her cheek against Martin’s arm.

  “When his mares are in season, he illegally mates them with the best stallion he can find. I saw him sneaking around one night. Tried to get Satan once, I caught him red-handed and gave him such a fright he never came back here again. Satan wasn’t too impressed.” Martin grinned. “He got all worked up for nothing.”

  * * *

  After ten days, Toby had recovered enough to travel. Martin decided to take him to his aunt’s place, and call in and check on his Bendigo property at the same time. Elizabeth wanted to go with them, but he refused to allow her to risk herself or the baby by undertaking such a long, arduous journey.

  “Goodbye, Toby. Good luck.” Beth hugged and kissed him, and they both wept when he mounted the horse Martin had given him. Even Mrs. Irvine’s eyes moistened up and she sniffed into a lace handkerchief.

  Martin laughed. “You women will drown the boy with all those tears.”

  Beth went up to Martin, who was already mounted. “You will take good care of him?” She stood with her hand resting on his thigh.

  “Yes.” He bent down and kissed her sweet tremulous mouth. How he would miss her soft warmth, and the fiery passion they shared each night.

  “Hurry back, I’ll be lonely without you.”

  “I’ll miss you, too. Have a good rest while I’m gone.” He gave a wolfish grin, and his eyes blazed. “You won’t get much when I return because we’ll have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

  Toby waved as they rode off. Martin stared straight ahead then swiveled his head, and his little storm girl looked somehow vulnerable standing there. Emotion caused his chest to tighten. He could not believe how hard it was to leave her behind.

  Angry frustration surged through him. This was not how he had planned things. Common decency and a desire to protect his unborn child, had forced him to offer marriage. Her purpose in the role he had mapped out was to keep him warm and satisfied in bed and to give him a healthy heir. Nothing more. Nothing less.

  Even to himself he dared not admit Elizabeth Campbell, with her sweet ways, had somehow sabotaged his plans. Maybe this break would do him good, give him a chance to get his plans back on track and lessen his need for her.

  The vicious accusations he had voiced when he suspected her of having another man filled him with remorse, and he had apologized. It did not come easy, as he had never been sorry for anything he said in his whole life before.

  She had accepted his stilted apology; went into his arms and lifted her mouth for a kiss, but the hurt stayed with her, a haunting deep pain, mere words could not erase. It was a natural assumption and any hot-blooded man would have acted the same way. He tried to excuse his behavior, although this rationale could not expunge his guilt.

  Once he dropped Toby off and got him settled at his aunt’s place, he could taste the many delights a large town like Bendigo offered. A night or two in the arms of a pretty, experienced woman might get his seesawing emotions under control again. With a shock that went straight to his gut, he realized the thought of touching another woman sickened him.

  * * *

  Martin had been away for ten days when Beth saw him riding up the path late one afternoon. He looked tired, unshaven and dirty.

  She rushed out to him. “I thought you’d be away much longer.”

  “I decided not to stay at the property as my overseer says everything is going well.” He dismounted and scrubbed a weary hand across the stubble on his chin. “I stayed overnight with Toby’s relatives to make sure he settled in.”

  “I’m glad you’re back.” She threw her arms around his neck. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “And I you.” She was exquisite. He let her rain excited kisses all over his face. She smelt so good he wanted to devour her on the spot. The nightlife in Bendigo had not attracted him at all. Oh, the meal and drinks at one of the exclusive establishments had been enjoyable enough. To his surprise, he had quickly tired of the high-class women fawning all over him, painted harlots compared to the fresh sweetness of his storm girl, and he could not bear to touch them.

  “You smell awful.” Her nose wrinkled up, yet she still clung to him and he laughed.

  “I’ve been on the road for days, the only wash I had was dousing my body in creek water every now and again. I’m desperate for a b
ath and a shave.”

  “Tell me about Toby. Is his aunt nice?”

  The way she jumped from one topic to another amused him.

  “Yes, his aunt and uncle seem decent types, devastated about what happened to him, of course. I think he’ll be happy with them; he’s going to help them in their hotel. Well, not much more than a beer house for the miners, really, although they do serve food. They have a schoolteacher friend who will teach Toby to read and write. He promised to write to you once he learns how.”

  “I’m glad everything turned out well for him.”

  “Thanks to you it did. Get Mrs. Irvine to put some bath water on for me, there’s a good girl, while I hand the horse over to one of the grooms. He rubbed the animal’s sweat stained neck. “A good rub down for you boy, and plenty of oats.”

  After Martin had bathed and shaved, he put on a dressing gown to cover his nakedness then sauntered into the bedroom. Food could wait until after he appeased his other more urgent hunger.

  “What will Mrs. Irvine think?” Beth stroked his now smooth jaw with her fingertips.

  “I don’t care what she thinks.”

  He dragged her into his arms, and his mouth, hot and urgent against hers, forced a willing response.

  “I missed you so much.”

  “I missed you, too,” he groaned, tugging at her clothes. Once she was naked, he laid her on the bed and disrobed. He kissed and caressed every inch of her, starting with the top of her head and working in slow nibbles downward until he reached her toes. This caused her to gasp with delight; he could not prolong her enjoyment without depriving himself of what he so urgently needed.

  “You’re beautiful, I’ve dreamed of doing this for days.”

  Locked together in the throes of passion fueled by tortuous days of abstinence, it was beyond all he had ever felt before. As he neared the pinnacle of desire, a knock on the door shattered his euphoria and sent him toppling over the edge.

  “Martin, are you there?” Sam called out.