“I’m sayin’ we’re supposed to be equal partners,” Crown fumed.
Plum fixed the sullen brute with a cold stare. “And I’m sayin’ we ain’t. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be sweepin’ the floor at Fort Cass, or starvin’ to death somewhere, if the Injuns hadn’t already lifted your hair.”
“Maybe that’s the way it was,” Crown shot back, “but it ain’t that way no more. You ain’t got your precious Blackfeet brothers no more. Now it’s just the three of us. Ain’t that right, Sowers?”
Sowers blanched and mumbled something unintelligible, slinking farther back in his corner. He, like Jamie, could smell brimstone in the confined air of the tiny cabin.
Crown wasn’t through. “From now on, we’re all gonna share everythin’. By God, I’ve had enough of you playin’ the boss.” His eyes were burning black coals of hatred.
Plum did not take Crown’s outburst lightly, but he remained calm as he considered the extent of the man’s rage. Seeing that it might be in his best interest to make some concession, he decided to offer Crown a trade, knowing full well the real cause of Crown’s agony. “Let me git one thing straight with you, Crown. If you don’t know nothin’ else in that loco head of your’n, know this—nobody salts Jack Plum’s tail—and I’d just as soon cut your gizzard out as look atcha. But I’m a reasonable man, so I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Ain’t no part of this here woman your’n, and that’s the fact of it—she ain’t part of the plunder. There’s fifteen head of horses out there, and if we’re gonna share all the plunder equal, like you said, then that means each one of us owns five of them horses. Ain’t that right?”
“You’re damn right,” Crown grunted.
“All right, then,” Plum continued, “since you’re so all-fired rutty over this here woman, I’ll make you a trade.” Crown’s eyes lit up at that, and Plum knew he could name his price. “I’ll give you the woman for your five horses.”
Crown jerked his head back, anger replacing the fleeting moment of ecstasy he had just glimpsed. “What?” he blurted out. “All my horses? What am I supposed to do, walk outta these mountains? I’ll give you one horse fer her.”
“I don’t think so,” Plum replied, smug in his advantage. “She’s a mighty fine little woman, and I ain’t gonna let her go for one damn horse . . . and that’s a fact.” He let Crown fume over that for a few moments before adding, “’Course I don’t expect you to walk. I’ll loan you a horse to ride as long as you’re riding with me.”
Crown was almost livid with rage and exasperation at Plum’s suggested trade. He wasn’t sure that Plum was even serious about trading the woman. He might just be entertaining himself by taunting him. After all, Plum had been mighty stingy about sharing her up to now. Still, Crown’s lust for Jamie had risen to near fever pitch, ruling out most practical thought on his part. One basic desire was foremost in his twisted brain—he wanted the woman. He made one counteroffer, having made up his mind that if Plum didn’t accept it, he would damn sure kill him and take the woman. “I ain’t gonna give up my horse. I’ll give you four horses, and that’s all.” To his surprise Plum accepted.
In her corner of the shack, Jamie heard the consummation of the deal and was devastated by the thought of it. Plum had as much as handed her a death sentence. She had somewhat toughened herself to the brutal treatment at the hands of Jack Plum, had even gotten to the point where she could detach her thoughts from the sickening physical abuse while it was happening. But Crown was a different beast altogether. His sadistic urges could be gratified only by administering pain. She had heard Plum and Sowers talk too many times about the women Crown had killed while satisfying his perverted sexual drives. In her desperation she chanced the usual slap for speaking out and begged Plum, “Please don’t trade me to him.”
For once, Plum did not strike her for speaking without being told to. Instead, her plea brought a smile to his face. “It’s a done deal—you’re his’n. I reckon now you wish you’da been a helluva lot nicer to me.” The look of distress on her face seemed to bring him a great deal of pleasure.
The lecherous grin on Crown’s face terrified Jamie, and she felt her entire nervous system suddenly paralyzed by cold fear. Plum, on the other hand, felt he could relax a bit, knowing that Crown had been pacified for the time being. Sowers, still cowering in his corner, experienced a profound feeling of regret, for now he could be certain he had no chance of eventually taking possession of the woman himself.
“Come ’ere, darlin’,” Crown cooed, gloating as he reached for his newly gained property.
Jamie screamed and pulled away from him, trying to dodge under his outstretched arms, but he caught her wrist and pulled her to him, locking her helpless in his powerful arms.
“If you’re fixin’ to git on her now, put a damn gag in her mouth,” Plum said. “I don’t wanna have to listen to that screamin’.”
While Jamie struggled helplessly, Crown bound her hands together and tied a dirty bandanna over her mouth. When he had subdued her to the point where he could control her with one hand, he proceeded to grope her, pawing her body with sadistic glee, like a great bear. Even Plum was disgusted, while Sowers drooled with lascivious fascination, like a camp dog begging for scraps.
After a few minutes, during which Jamie tried to endure her torment, Crown noticed the stares of the other two men. Like a wolf guarding his kill, he became wary of Plum and Sowers. Resentful of having witnesses to his fulfillment of his innermost pleasures, and suddenly suspicious of Plum’s willingness to share the girl, he became worried about a double cross. Plum was trying to catch him off guard, when he was satisfying his sexual desires—that had to be the reason Plum let him trade for the girl. Once the seed took hold in his mind, Crown was certain that Plum was intent upon taking advantage of him—probably with Sowers in cahoots. Well, we’ll see who’s the smartest son of a bitch in this game. Abruptly he stopped the pawing of his helpless victim and announced, “We’re leavin’.”
“Leavin’?” Plum replied. “Where the hell are you goin’?”
Still holding on to Jamie with one hand, Crown glared at Plum defiantly. “I said we’re leavin’, and I’ll kill the first one tries to stop me.” He paused long enough to fix Sowers with a menacing look before shifting his gaze back to Plum.
“Hell,” Plum said nonchalantly, “ain’t nobody gonna try to stop you. If you wanna freeze your ass off out there, go ahead . . . but I’d at least wait till morning.”
Crown’s devious mind was suspicious. Plum was being entirely too cooperative. “We’re goin’ now . . . me and the woman,” he stated, waiting for any objection. When Plum’s only response was a shrug, Crown shoved Jamie down on the floor. “Git your stuff. We’re goin’.”
Jamie’s mind was in turmoil. She could see the initial steps of her certain execution being put in motion. The thing she feared most had happened when Plum agreed to the trade with Crown, and now the lust-crazed maniac was going to drag her out in the snow to do his evil. Like a condemned prisoner, she resigned herself to her death. With her hands still tied, she gathered up the few articles of clothing she had. Crown hurriedly packed his parfleche and snatched up his bedroll, keeping a wary eye on Plum as he did so. He made a couple of trips out to the horses with his saddle and belongings before coming in for the last time to fetch Jamie. Plum watched Crown’s departure with a show of disinterest, not even offering a comment as Crown picked Jamie up with one arm and went through the door.
When the door had closed behind them, Sowers found his tongue. “That’s the craziest thing I ever saw,” he exclaimed. “Ain’t you gonna stop him?”
“Hell, no,” Plum replied. That was his only comment for a long time. Then he added, “He’ll be back.” Plum knew Crown well enough to believe that he would turn up again when he had finished with the woman—he always did. Crown was crazy when he was consumed by desire, and there was nothing to do but let him have his fill and get over it. He’d be back, all right. Plum felt certain that t
he only way he would see the last of Crown would be to shoot him—and that day might not be far off.
High up on the far side of the rise, Ox sat, half frozen and given in to the overpowering urge to sleep. A half hour earlier, he’d thought he heard something, maybe a muffled scream, but after listening for a while, he decided it was nothing more than the wind swirling the snowflakes around his buffalo robe. He pulled the warm fur of the buffalo hide closer around his ears and blinked his eyes deliberately in an effort to keep from closing them altogether. But soon the desire to sleep became too much to resist.
* * *
Crown wasted little time in clearing out. Jamie made one attempt to run while he was saddling his horse, and she paid dearly for it when Crown easily ran her down in the snow and struck her sharply across her half-frozen face. The blow was sufficient to leave her stunned and whimpering at his feet while he finished strapping the saddle on.
There were really only two main thoughts in Crown’s head as he tied his bedroll and parfleche onto his horse. Foremost was the sadistic anticipation of a pleasure he had fantasized about ever since Jamie had been captured, and the need for some privacy to enjoy it. The second thought that was now developing in his head, as he kept glancing back at the cabin, was to say to hell with the trade he had agreed to. He had the girl now. Plum and Sowers were too damn lazy to even come outside to watch him. There was no one to stop him from taking his other four horses as well. Taking a rope from his saddle, he tied the best four horses in the bunch on a line behind his horse. Anxious to put some distance between himself and the cabin, in case Plum might be planning to double-cross him, Crown lifted Jamie up into his saddle. Climbing on behind her, he started down the river, leading the extra horses behind him. A smug smile creased his face as he pictured Plum when he came out in the morning and discovered that Crown had the girl and the horses too.
* * *
It was well past midnight when Trace climbed back up to the top of the rise. There he found Ox sleeping peacefully. He had to shake the huge man several times before he reluctantly opened his eyes. When he found himself staring into Trace’s face, he jumped, at once alarmed.
“How long have you been asleep?” Trace asked, making an effort to hide his annoyance.
“I don’t . . . not but a minute,” Ox stammered, mortified by his failure to stay awake. “I think I just closed my eyes for a second or two.” He could read the concern in Trace’s face as the rugged mountain man stood over him. “I swear, Trace, I didn’t mean to close my eyes.”
The look of total despair on his face was too much for Trace. He found it difficult to chastise him. “Never mind,” he said after a long pause. “Go on back by the fire. I’ll call you when it’s time.”
Apologetic and contrite, Ox shuffled back down to the camp and promptly went back to sleep by the small fire. Trace settled himself where he could watch the door of the cabin in the edge of the trees below. Everything appeared to be the same as when he had left Ox to watch it. There was no sign of anyone outside the cabin, and he could just make out the dark forms of the horses in the shadow of the trees behind.
When it appeared that Ox’s nap had not done any harm, Trace’s irritation with him gave way to thoughts of concern. What could he do with the man? Ox was no more than a child mentally, but Trace wondered if it wasn’t more a lack of upbringing and experience than of inborn stupidity. He believed Ox when he said he didn’t know Plum and Crown were evil men when he joined up with them. But what the hell am I gonna do with him? he wondered, for he had a feeling Ox had latched on to him whether he liked it or not. Trace shook his head firmly to clear his mind. I’ll deal with that when the time comes. I ain’t got time to worry about it now.
* * *
The first rays of morning light crept down along the river bottom, and Trace moved behind a runty pine to conceal himself as he continued to watch the cabin. It was only a few minutes later that the dark forms of the horses in the trees behind the cabin began to take on definition. Trace studied the horses for a moment. Something didn’t look right. He had counted fifteen horses there the day before. Maybe some of them moved farther back toward the water, he told himself.
The cabin door opened, dragging on the crusted snow, and Trace saw the silhouette of a man standing just inside, obviously taking a cautious look around before stepping out. After a brief pause of no more than half a minute he stepped outside. Trace recognized him as the man Ox called Sowers. Sowers stepped a few paces away from the door by a stack of firewood and emptied his bladder. Then he picked up a couple of pieces of wood from the pile and went back inside. It would have been an easy shot, Trace thought as he reminded himself to wait for the right opportunity.
After a short wait, the sun popped over the lower end of the valley, and Trace decided it was time to wake Ox. He made his way down the slope and found Ox sleeping as soundly as a baby. Trace just stood over him for a few moments shaking his head, wondering again if his simpleminded partner could be counted on to do his part when the shooting started. He knelt down and shook the huge man gently. After a moment, Ox sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. When his gaze fell on Trace, he smiled broadly. Just like a damn duck, Trace thought. Wakes up in a new world every day. To Ox he said, “Time to get up on the ridge. They ought to be coming out soon.”
They waited and watched. There was very little activity in the cabin below them. Trace had seen Sowers come outside before he woke Ox. Later, Plum showed his face for the first time, but there was no sign of Jamie or Crown. And Trace was certain Crown was there because he had seen him the evening before when he had worked his way down behind the cabin. While he continued to watch, Sowers came out again and started toward the trees where the horses were tied. Something was wrong—Sowers stopped when he was only halfway to the trees. He hesitated there for a few minutes, then promptly turned on his heel and returned to the cabin to summon Plum. Moments later, the two men appeared again, conferred briefly, and went back inside. It was obvious to Trace that some of their horses were missing. There was still no sign of Jamie, although he had to assume she was inside the cabin. He decided he had waited long enough—it was time to act.
Trace led Ox down the slope to a clump of bushes half buried in the snow. “Dig in here behind these bushes. Your man is Sowers, all right?” Ox nodded. Trace looked him dead in the eye then. “You understand, now. You aim at Sowers—I’m not going to worry about him because I know you’ll take care of him. Right?” Trace wanted to make sure Ox understood the importance of taking the right man. Ox assured him that he would concentrate on Sowers, and Sowers only. “All right,” Trace continued. “I’m gonna work my way down behind ’em, and see if I can smoke ’em outta that cabin. When they come out, be careful you don’t hit Jamie . . . or me. I’m gonna leave my rifle with you. I can shoot faster with my bow.” Ox nodded excitedly and took the rifle from Trace’s hand. “Sowers,” Trace reminded him one final time before disappearing below the brow of the ridge.
The icy wind, blowing clouds of snow that swirled around him like a ghostly white dust, went unnoticed by Trace, for his total concentration was on the cabin before him. The early-morning sun glistened on the hard snow and reflected in his eyes, causing him to pull his beaver-fur cap low on his forehead. Coming up behind the cabin as he had the night before, he could see that some of the horses were definitely missing. He paused to scan the trees along the riverbank to see if they had simply wandered, but there was no sign of them—and the remaining horses were all hobbled. It gave him pause to consider what that meant, for he now realized that they had been gone since the night before. The obvious conclusion would be that someone had left, probably while Ox was asleep. It was a troubling thought, especially since there had been no sign of Jamie or Crown that morning. He stopped to consider the problem. After a few moments, weighing the possible consequences, he decided to go ahead as he had planned and assume there were four people still inside the cabin.
Moving silently up to the
rear wall of the cabin, Trace brushed enough snow away to get a grip on the roof overhang and pulled himself up. Placing each foot slowly and carefully, he climbed up the roof to the short stone chimney. From his high vantage point on top of the cabin, he looked up the rise to the clump of bushes where Ox was waiting. Upon seeing Trace on the roof of the cabin, Ox stood up and raised his rifle, ready to fire. Trace cursed silently. The big simpleton presented a huge target for anyone just happening to glance his way. Trace tried to signal Ox to get down, but Ox simply waved back and continued to stand.
Trace’s plan was to heap snow down the chimney, forcing Plum and his partners outside, but before he had scooped up the first armload of snow, he heard the cabin door open below him. He paused to listen.
Plum pushed the door open and peered outside. He glanced back at Sowers, asleep by the fireplace. If Plum had not felt the need to answer nature’s call, he would have kicked Sowers awake and ordered him to get a couple of logs for the fire. Since he was going out anyway, he decided to get the wood himself. Now something caused him to pause in the doorway, stunned. Was it a ghost? Plum wasn’t sure, but it damn sure looked like Ox standing halfway up the slope in front of the cabin. Plum hesitated, not certain what to do. He had his pistols in his belt as always, but his rifle was inside, next to the fireplace. He blinked rapidly and looked again. Ox was still there. Then, behind him, he heard the soft thump of a blanket of snow landing on the fire, followed by two more thumps in quick succession. A movement caught his eye, and he glanced out in front of the cabin and saw the shadow of a man standing on the roof, clearly silhouetted on the snow. He knew at once what was happening and realized he had no time to think about it. His instinct told him he had no chance if he was trapped inside the cabin. There was no thought of alerting Sowers to the impending danger. To the contrary, Plum’s chances of saving his own skin might be improved if the raiders remained unaware of having been discovered. So without pause he slid out the door, hugging the wall of the cabin, up under the eaves. He moved quickly to the corner of the shack, hoping he had not yet been seen. Though hidden from the man on the roof, he was in plain view of Ox. He managed to round the corner only seconds before Ox’s rifle ball splintered the logs behind him.
Mountain Hawk Page 18