by Abbie Adams
"We sure it's the gang, Tripp?" Jeb asked as soon as they were near enough. "You see any of them come out?"
Tripp nodded that he was sure but then clarified when the sheriff fired off the second question. "I haven't seen one of them, nor a hair from one of their heads poking out the windows either. Did you, Gabe?"
"No, not a movement." The man shook his head.
"You sure they are even in there then?" This came from Ben, the blacksmith.
"Yeah, I heard them hollering at each for a while. I'm concerned that they know we're are out here. That's why they might be staying hidden. I mean, it's hot out here. That cabin is small, and there is a front porch. It seems to me we'd see one of them sitting out there or heading out to the outhouse or something. Of course, we've only been out here a couple of hours… but I know it's them—I'd bet on it. I did see the woman known to be with them. She came out and dumped a pail of water. It's Damaris." He watched as the weight of his announcement settled around them.
"Diamond's sister," Gabe announced. "It's good she's alive. God only knows the hell she's been through though. Diamond will be so relieved."
"Maybe it's a good thing she followed along then." This came from a bull of a man who Tripp didn't know.
What the hell? He needed clarification. "Diamond came with you guys?" What was she thinking? What were the idiots thinking, allowing her to come?
"How the hell did she talk you into that?" Gabe roared.
"She didn't ask, Gabe." Jeb glared at the man. "She took Juan's horse and followed you guys. She didn't realize we were following behind her. We were more than halfway so we couldn't send her back."
"Where is she now?" Tripp's hand was itching to get a hold of her bottom. She was going to think her last spanking had been nothing but a fun little game of slap and tickle once he blistered her ass this time.
"We left her at the mine with Carlos and the prisoner. Didn't really have a choice." This came from Slade. "After this is over, someone needs to teach that gal a lesson..."
Gabe and Tripp both agreed at the same time.
"Yes, you can count on it."
"Oh, you can bet I'm going to teach her something."
Tripp nodded when Gabe gave him a questioning look. Yes, he was taking responsibility for that stubborn little gem. The slight nod Gabe gave him confirmed that Delaney was his to punish, but it also implied that he was going to be responsible for her in more than just that way.
"Something else," John began, bringing his horse forward. "I found one of the outlaws headed toward the claim on my way there to get the posse. I wasn't able to get much information outta him, only because I wanted to hurry back. If he's being truthful, there's only three of them and the woman in there.
"The woman down there leaves us with a big problem. We can't just go in there shooting. We're going to have to be careful," Jeb announced, his voice heavy with the grave importance of the task they had before them. "Tripp, Gabe, have you come up with any ideas while you were out here?"
"I think we'd be best off watching and waiting. If we move slowly, there are enough of us to surround the place, well, except the front. You guys can see there is nowhere to hide across the whole spread in the front, but that should work in our favor too. They can't sneak away out the front without us seeing them. We could possibly take them out one at a time if they don't know that we're out here." Tripp lifted his hat and wiped the sweat off his brow. "I haven't seen the woman go to the outhouse, but maybe we'll get lucky and be able to sneak her out of there. If not, I think we'd be better off waiting until night when we can sneak in closer."
"I can't think of a better way." Gabe looked around. There were no suggestions so they began to spread out.
Hours later, Tripp wasn't so sure the gang knew they were out there. They had thought there was no way one of them wouldn't have had to use the outhouse, until Gabe had heard one of outlaws peeing, seeing the arc of his stream coming from a side window.
The posse had spread out circling the claim. It was dangerous but they were going to try to get close enough to see if the men went to sleep as normal. Deputy Slade had made it in pretty close to the cabin in the dusky twilight. He came back reporting that the gang were playing poker. It was either a set-up geared to catch the lawmen off guard or they were drunken idiots and didn't have a clue the posse was there. They were going to close in when the lights were doused and they were sure the men were asleep.
The cabin had been dark for about an hour and Tripp was ready to move forward when a flicker drew his eye again. Someone was up. It quickly brightened and for a moment Tripp thought someone had started a fire in the fireplace. He realized it was actually a real fire, the kind that was quickly consuming the old ramshackle cabin. In moments the entire back wall of the place was engulfed.
"What the hell do you think is going on in there?" Jeb had rushed over to Tripp in the dark.
"I don't know. Stay alert. I can't help but think it's some kind of a trap. I mean they aren't hollering. Maybe it's a distraction. We're focusing on it. They might try to make break out the front. What do you think we should do?" He didn't like the set up at all, but he'd be damned if he let the gang slip through his fingers again. And what about the woman?
Just then, a great tortured yell came from the cabin. It didn't bear any semblance to a human, and Tripp couldn't help but shudder. They were spurred into action when they heard the clamoring and one of the outlaws busted out of the shack and tumbled to the ground, rolling and trying to get away from the flames.
Tripp watched in horror, torn between wanting to help the man and being wary of the other outlaws.
"What the hell should we do?" The posse were all alert, talking amongst themselves. The outlaw who stumbled out wasn't the only man screaming, the worst of all horrors was the tortured hollering coming from inside. Tripp was more than happy to let them die that horrible death but just then he remembered Damaris and rushed to the cabin.
"We have to get in there and find Damaris," he called back to the other men and they all spurred into action. "Go round to the front," Tripp shouted as he went straight for the back door, ignoring the outlaw still rolling in agony on the ground. Most of the cabin was engulfed and smoke rolled out the door. He tried to see through the smoke, ducking in the door. The heat was horrific, the smoke blinding. "Damaris, are you in here? I'm the marshal; we're here to help. Damaris?"
There was no reply but he continued calling, struggling to get the words out as the smoke filled his lungs. He managed to get to an interior door, pushing it open just as a roof beam fell behind him, blocking the door he'd entered from. Covering his mouth and nose with his forearm, he moved through the smoke, knocking into a wash stand. Without even thinking, he grabbed the pitcher, perhaps thinking he could douse the flames but there was no water in the ewer. Flinching a bit at the sound of another beam falling, he knew he had but mere seconds if he was going to get out. Looking towards the bed, he finally admitted that if Damaris was there, she would have perished instantly as the flames had already consumed the bedcoverings and climbed the walls to travel across the ceiling.
"Tripp, get out!" Gabe screamed.
Discovering his path was blocked, Tripp turned towards the wall, a reflection of the inferno showing in the panes of glass. Stumbling forward, he shoved the sash up further and with a final look behind him at what had to resemble hell, he dove through, rolling through the flames of the porch and onto the dirt at the front of the cabin. Hands grabbed him, pulling him away to safety as the roar increased, patting at his clothing as behind him, flames shot high into the night sky.
"No, let me go!" Tripp said, coughing but determined to keep searching. "I didn't see her…"
"Tripp, no! It's too late. There is nothing we can do for them." Gabe was steering him to fresh air and stump to sit on. "Sit down and catch your breath, man. You did what you could." Tripp fought against his hold until the roof fell in, the cabin taking its dying breath as flames consumed everything in its
path.
The sheriff kicked the outlaw lying on the ground, flames finally extinguished from his clothing. "Who was still in there? Was the woman in there?"
"What do I care about the little bitch—oooof." Jeb kicked him again.
"Was she still in there?"
"Yes. She was tied to the bed with Slick." The man scooted away from Jeb, holding his side where he'd been kicked.
Tripp had an ache deep in his own chest, thinking about the woman. If only he'd gotten to the bedroom quicker perhaps he could have saved her. Thinking about Delaney and how learning of her sister's fate would break her heart, his own broke a bit at the thought of telling her.
Gabe's squeezed his shoulder. "There's no need for all of us to stay. We won't be able to go through the debris until the fire is out and the place cools. It will be hours before that happens. If you want to go to…"
Tripp didn't wait for him to finish. Though perhaps it was his duty to stay and help identify the bodies, he didn't care. All he wanted right now was to get to Delaney. It was a good damn thing the posse had found her following them and had made her stay at the claim.
***
Fighting against the pull that threatened to pull her under, Damaris sputtered, her lungs burning and she continued to battle the current. What air she had left exploded from her with a gasp as something slammed into her chest. Water filled her mouth as she sank beneath the surface, her vision blurred and for the briefest of moments she considered just giving in. Her life had been nothing but pain, terror, hell. She was now a murderer… perhaps she deserved to die. Her fingers loosened their tentative hold on a submerged tree branch, slipping across the slimy surface of moss and rotten wood. She was exhausted, bruised, broken and the urge to slip into sleep was so very strong.
"No! Damaris, fight! Don't you give up! I love you!" The scream was loud in her head, breaking through the blackness that was consuming her. Love? How could that be? If she'd ever believed in love, that belief had been destroyed and yet… she could suddenly see her sister's face before her, a light shining on Delany's countenance, tears streaming down her cheeks. When a hand reached for her and lips formed to speak, "Please… please don't leave me again," Damaris' hand clawed at the branch, using every ounce of her strength to pull herself towards the surface… towards life.
"Hang on, help is coming… I love you, sissy."
"I'm sorry… I-I love you too," Damaris whispered, her fingers touching her sister's, her eyes closing, her body pushed past its endurance. The last sound she heard was a scream and her heart broke for the last time knowing that she'd failed her sister for the last time.
***
Tripp couldn't stop coughing. He'd drunk an entire canteen of water and yet it wasn't five minutes before he had to stop his horse in order to empty his stomach. His throat was burning and raw. The moon's reflection drew him forward and he slid from the saddle and stumbled towards the river.
"You all right?" John asked, drawing up and dismounting.
"Water," Tripp rasped. "My throat's on fire." Kneeling at the river's edge, he plunged his face into the water, sucking in huge mouthfuls of the cold liquid.
"Easy," John said, squatting beside him and taking the canteen. Tripp drew back, shaking water from his hair as John dipped the canteen beneath the surface.
"Shit," Tripp said, coughing again and turning to spit the water behind him.
"You swallowed a lot of smoke," John said, taking his own long swig before topping off the canteen and holding it out to Tripp. "Try again but take small sips."
Tripp did, each swallow difficult and yet, this time, his stomach didn't convulse the moment the liquid hit. He'd taken a dozen swallows before he nodded and handed the canteen back. "Thanks."
John just nodded and stood, capping the canteen and holding out his hand to help Tripp to his feet. Tripp was halfway to standing when something caught his eye. Dropping John's hand, he bent forward, bracing his hand on a tree that had fallen, half of its length submerged.
"Come on," John said, reaching for him again only to have Tripp push his hand away. "What…"
"Oh God!" Tripp surged to his feet and leapt over the trunk. The movement that had caught his eye was now more evident. "John! Help me!" he shouted, jumping into the water and moving towards the object. John came around the trunk and when he also saw the object, he was quick to follow. The two men braced themselves against the trunk as they reached for the woman who was floating, her face as pale as the moon above, her dark hair swirling around her, tangled in the limbs of the tree, her gown moving with the water's current. Tripp paused to throw his hat towards the bank, unbuckling his gun belt and throwing it as well.
"She's stuck on something," he said.
"Be careful," John said, moving a bit more forward in order to get a better grip on the woman's arms. "God knows what's beneath us."
Tripp nodded, took a breath and disappeared beneath the surface. The woman's leg was trapped in between two branches. Pushing aside the white fabric as it brushed against his face, he tried to maneuver her foot free to no avail. Resurfacing, gasping for air, he took another breath and disappeared once again. Apologizing in advance, he grasped the woman's foot and twisted, straightening it and then pulling, knowing the bone was probably broken and yet he needed to get the woman… no… Damaris, out of the river's icy embrace. Surfacing again, he wheezed, "Pull her out."
John did so and once the woman was free of the branch, the two men pulled and carried her to shore.
"Is she dead?" John asked as the two men collapsed on either side of the limp body.
"She better not be," Tripp growled, coughing even as he bent forward, placing his cheek against the woman's lips. "Come on, Damaris, breathe!" he pleaded, moving to press his hand between her breasts and pushing. "Don't you dare die on me! Delaney will kill me!" He continued to do chest compressions and listen for breaths and finally yelled, "Delaney is waiting to see you. You have to wake up! Come on, don't you fucking make me tell Delaney you left her! Please, honey, please breathe!" After the longest moment of his entire life, Damaris stiffened and then began to fight his hold, twisting and then retching. Tripp didn't care that she vomited on him, he just held her, adjusted her so that she could sit and when she was gasping for air, simply pulled her into his arms and held her.
"Thank God, thank you," he said. He was about to turn to John with a smile when he pulled his hand away and found it sticky. "Fuck! She's bleeding!" John had moved to the horses and once he was back with a blanket, Tripp laid Damaris onto it, turning her onto her other side. There was a large tear in the white gown, the fabric saturated with blood. Pulling his bandana from his pocket, he pressed it to the wound.
"We've got to get the bleeding stopped," Tripp said. "How far is it to the mine?"
"At least an hour as it's dark," John said after looking around. "I can build a fire here…"
"No, she'll never make it. We've got to get her back to the cabin. There's not enough light here to see how bad she's injured." He used his knife to cut off the lower half of the nightgown and the tore it into several strips. After adding John's bandana to the wound, he tied them tightly in place with the muslin. "Hang in there, Damaris. I'm taking you to Delaney…"
"Laney." The word was softly spoken and yet filled Tripp's heart.
"That's right, honey. Laney is waiting. Let's go home."
John handed Damaris up to him after Tripp had mounted and the two turned towards the mine. Neither spoke of the added danger riding full out could present, both only concerned with getting Damaris to the cabin… to her sister.
"Not much farther. Just over the next ridge, you'll see the cabin." John's voice broke through the monotony of hooves, swishing tails, and the occasional moan of pain uttered by an unconscious Damaris.
They'd been riding in silence most of the ride between the Old Man's place and the mine. There wasn't much to talk about even if the men weren't dog tired. The night had been one of the most gruesome any of them might
ever have seen, heard or smelled, from the sounds of the two men trapped in the fire to the horrid stench of burning flesh. The only thing that would help remove the nightmares each man was sure to have was the hope that Damaris wouldn't die.
"I'm going to head on to Culpepper and get Doctor Norwood. We'll meet you at the cabin as soon as possible."
The two had discussed trying for town but Tripp was afraid that the woman wouldn't make it that far. She was so cold and though part of that could be explained due to the fact that she'd been in the water for at least an hour, he also knew she was continuing to lose body heat. If they didn't get her dry and warm soon, there would be nothing the doctor could do.
"All right, just hurry."
"I will, you be careful." John turned his horse to the left and with a kick, soon disappeared over a hill, heading towards town. It would be at least three to four hours before he'd return. Tripp adjusted his hold on his passenger and moved forward towards the final ridge.
A half-hour later, he pulled up in front of the cabin, shouting for Carlos. The man came out and once Tripp had handed Damaris to him, he dismounted, taking her back.
"God, I'm glad to see you… Delaney…"
"What?" Tripp said, whipping around. "Is she all right?"
"Yes… I mean, I don't know, she woke up screaming and hasn't stopped crying for hours. Something about someone… a sissy?"
"This is her," Tripp stated, kicking the door open and entering the cabin. He could hear sobs from where he stood and his heart lurched. "Move the table to the fire, build it up!" Tripp ordered, never pausing as he moved towards the bedroom. "Delaney, sweetheart, it's going to be all right…"
Delaney was hunched in the middle of the bed, her arms wrapped around her knees, her hair tangled about her body. Tripp wanted nothing more than to hold her and yet he first had to take care of Damaris. "Delaney… honey… Damaris…"
"No!" Delaney screamed, startling him with the vehemence of her tone. "She… she left me! I tried to make her stay but she… she…"