“That’s right,” Arlo chimed in. “Only Bo ain’t got no claim on her. I’m the oldest. I oughta get first claim.”
P. D. released the hammer slowly while she paused to consider her sons’ reaction. She was still of the opinion that a dead girl posed the fewest problems, but she understood the desire that prompted the boys’ reaction. After all, she had desires herself about once a year, and her sons had precious few opportunities to consort with women who didn’t do it for money. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have somebody to do the cooking and chores while they waited for her husband to return—if they were married—which she doubted. The decision made, she returned the pistol to her holster.
“All right,” P. D. said. “You can keep her, but I don’t want no fightin’ over the little bitch, or I’ll shoot her in a minute. Arlo’s right; he’s the oldest. He oughta have her first.” Arlo glanced toward Bo and smirked.
“Dammit, Ma,” Bo complained, “that ain’t fair. I spoke up first.”
“I’ll say what’s fair and what ain’t,” P. D. responded, watching Molly’s reaction closely while the two brothers argued over her fate. “You’re both gonna be responsible for watchin’ her every minute. She might look frail, but she’s liable to slip a knife between your ribs if you give her half a chance. First off, she’s gonna finish cookin’ that meat for our supper.” Molly backed away fearfully when P. D. stuck a finger in her face to emphasize her words. “Before you eat, though, Bo, you and Wiley drag that old man somewhere outta sight, then take them horses off somewhere away from the cabin where nobody can see ’em. I don’t want Mr. Slaughter to see he’s got company.”
“What about Arlo?” Bo wanted to know. “What’s he gonna be doin’ while me and Wiley are doing all the chores?”
“Well, he ain’t gonna be humpin’ on no little gal,” P. D. snorted. “Not in front of his mama. Now, get.”
“Come on, Wiley,” Bo said, still irritated by having to concede to his older brother, and stomped out the door.
Wiley, in a state of confusion, a state in which he often resided, paused before following his brother. Unlike his two older brothers, Wiley sometimes had difficulty sorting things out in his mind. He was confused now by his mother’s casual decision to kill the girl. He understood the murder of Bill Cotton. Like P. D. had said, Cotton was figuring on killing all of them. As for the hapless Crow woman, she was nothing more than an Indian. He was undecided about the killing of the old man. Maybe it was necessary. But the fair young white woman had done nothing wrong, although when he thought about it, P. D. had warned that Molly would try to kill one of them if she got the chance. P. D. was always right, so he supposed it was disrespectful on his part to question her. That settled in his simple brain, he turned his thoughts again toward the young pregnant woman. He had never had an opportunity to know a woman in the most intimate sense, and his head was filled with curiosity over the pleasures of the flesh. Why should Arlo and Bo be allowed those pleasures, and not himself? “What about me, Ma?” he asked, glancing toward the terrified girl backed against the wall.
P. D. followed his gaze, and replied, “You’ve still got plenty of time before you need to worry about rollin’ in the hay with some floozy.” Seeing the disappointment in his eyes, she said, “We’ll see. Now go on and tend the horses.” She almost succeeded in constructing a motherly expression as she watched her favorite exit the cabin. It was replaced in an instant when she returned her gaze to fall upon the hapless girl cowering near the fireplace. “Tend to that meat! I’m hungry.”
Chapter 10
With constantly trembling hands, and the feeling of ice water flowing through her veins, Molly served her four unholy guests while at least three sets of eyes watched her every move. Feeling almost paralyzed by desperation and the hopelessness of her situation, her thoughts bounded back and forth between her fear for Matt and the dread of what awaited her. Who these people were, she had no idea. That they came for Matt was the one thing she knew for certain. Whether they came to kill or capture, she could only speculate what was in the minds of this treacherous woman who looked like a man and her loathsome sons. They might kill him on sight, just as they had murdered Zeb. Then they would kill her, too, as soon as they were finished with her. She felt she must find some way to warn Matt, but she was helpless to do so at this point.
The meal quickly devoured by the men, Arlo was the first to stand up and announce, “I’m ready to turn in.” His eyes locked on Molly.
“I’ll just bet you are,” Bo responded at once. “I reckon I am, too.” He got up to stand beside his brother.
“What the hell do you think you’re doin’?” Arlo demanded. “You ain’t invited.”
P. D., still taking her time to stuff herself with the last of the venison from the spit, interrupted. “Before you young studs get yourselves in a lather, I’m gonna tell you what you’re gonna do. We’re gonna have to stand guard tonight in case Slaughter comes back before mornin’. Bo, you take the first watch. After a couple of hours, Arlo can take over, and you can take your turn with the woman,” she added impatiently. “Wiley can spell you and I’ll finish her up.”
Filled with terror and a loathing for what the night promised, Molly tried to think of anything to delay the inevitable. She made motions that she should clean the tin plates they had eaten on. “To hell with the dishes,” P. D. scoffed. “Go on outta here with her,” she said to Arlo. “I don’t wanna hear your gruntin’ and groanin’.”
“Come on, sweetheart,” Arlo said, taking Molly by the arm while giving Bo a snide smile. To his brother, he said, “You’d best get your ass out there and watch for Slaughter.”
Molly tried to draw back, defying Arlo, but he was a strong brute of a man, and barely noticed her resistance. Desperate then, she tried to make frantic motions with her hands, which only served to confuse Arlo. “What the hell’s the matter with her?” he blurted.
P. D. laughed, amused now by her son’s awkward impatience to satisfy his lust. “She has to pee.” Then, warning him, she said, “You make sure you keep an eye on her.”
Arlo pulled Molly out the door. He was followed by his two brothers. P. D. remained seated at the rough plank table. She shook her head and chuckled when she heard Arlo say, “Where the hell do you two think you’re goin’?”
“I’m gonna keep an eye on her, too,” Bo replied.
“Me, too,” Wiley said. “I can watch her pee, same as you.”
Inside the cabin, P. D. chuckled again as their voices faded away. They were sons any mother would be proud of, she thought.
Before being dragged out of the cabin, Molly had actually felt the need to relieve herself. But outside, even in the dark, she found it impossible to accomplish this with the three lecherous brothers watching intently. After a long wait, Arlo became impatient. “All right, dammit, that’s long enough.” He grabbed for her, but she dodged his hand and tried to run.
Bo was upon her before she had run five yards. “Hod-a-mighty!” he yelled as he tackled her, pawing and groping her all over as she struggled against him. Trying to stop her flailing arms with one hand while he pulled her skirt up with the other, he exclaimed gleefully, “Look at that! She’s wearin’ them long leggin’s like a damn Injun.” He didn’t have time to say more before Arlo grabbed him by one ankle and dragged him off of Molly.
“You can get your ass over by the corner of that corral and keep an eye out for Slaughter like Ma told you!” Arlo scolded. Bo struggled and kicked at his brother with his free foot, but to no avail. He was forcefully hauled several yards before Arlo released him.
“Ma said to hide the horses first,” Wiley, an interested spectator to that point, reminded his brothers.
“Yeah, Wiley,” Bo replied. “Why don’t you do that? Me and Arlo has got to take care of the little lady.”
“The hell you say,” Arlo responded. “There ain’t no me and you about it. You get your turn after I’m done with her. You heard Ma. Now help Wiley with them horses bef
ore I have to kick your butt.”
“That might be a little more than you can handle,” Bo shot back defiantly. The response was nothing more than an empty boast, however. Bo knew Arlo was stronger than he when it came to a fistfight or a wrestling match. He glared at his older brother for an extended moment before getting to his feet. “Come on, Wiley. We’d best do what Ma said.”
Arlo pulled Molly to her feet and held her by the arm while he watched Bo and Wiley collect the horses. Once they had disappeared into the stand of pine trees above the cabin, he pushed her toward the back of the corral. With an ever-growing sense of panic, she stumbled along, knowing she could not resist the brute’s physical dominance. In her mind was the terrifying thought that she was going to die no matter what happened in the next few hours. She made up her mind then that she was not going to make it easy for them. That determination served to give her failing nervous system new life. When he started to pull her to the ground, she balked, shaking her head. He drew back his hand, preparing to strike her, but she quickly held up her hand, then pointed toward the trees behind the cabin.
Puzzled, he hesitated. “You wanna go over there?” he asked. She nodded. Thinking that she had decided to accept her fate, he said, “Maybe that would be a better place. Easier on my knees in the pine needles.”
He led her just inside the trees, and immediately started unbuckling his belt. She started to slowly back away. “Oh, no, you don’t,” he said. Taking her arm again, he forced her down upon the pine needles. She tried to get up, but she was held down by his massive body. She fought him with all the strength she could muster, but he was gradually overcoming her resistance, finally succeeding in forcing her legs apart. In desperation, her fingers clawed at the pine needles until she felt the rocky soil beneath. Clutching a handful of the gritty soil, she threw it in his face when he leaned close in an effort to kiss her.
“Damn you!” he roared when the grit struck him in his eyes. “I oughta kill you right now!” He rocked back on his heels, and tried to wipe the offending soil from his eyes.
“You sure have got a way with the ladies.” The voice came from right behind him as Bo suddenly appeared from the darkness. “You ain’t doin’ no good. Get offa her and lemme show you how to treat a woman.”
Enraged, his eyes still stinging from the grit, Arlo was in no mood to suffer Bo’s taunts. “Get the hell away from here before I break your back for you,” he threatened gruffly.
“Aw, now, brother, you ought’n let your mouth make no promises your ass can’t keep.” He reached down to place a hand on Molly’s breast. “Hop off her, and I’ll get a little before I go on guard duty.”
Already at the breaking point in his rage, Bo’s taunts were the spark that lit the big man’s fuse. Without further warning, he suddenly hurled himself into Bo, knocking him backward, the two of them crashing over and over in the thick brush. Rolling almost out in the open at the edge of the trees, they grappled, each one seeking the advantage. It quickly went to the stronger man, however, and soon Arlo was on top of Bo, hammering him with lefts and rights.
A witness to all this, Wiley stood watching, following the two combatants as they rolled down toward the back of the cabin. When it was obvious that the fight was effectively over, and with the prospect that Arlo was going to bludgeon Bo to death, Wiley tried to intervene. “Arlo!” he cried. “Stop! You’re gonna kill him!” He grabbed the back of Arlo’s shirt, and tried to pull him away.
Still in a fit of rage, Arlo finally heard Wiley’s pleas, and paused. Then, giving Bo one more fist in the mouth, he relented. Getting to his feet, he said, “Get him on away from here, or I’ll damn-sure kill him.” Brushing his trousers off briefly, he returned to the pine thicket. Molly was gone.
* * *
“Damn you and your lustful ways!” P. D. screeched and laid into the backs of her two eldest sons with her rawhide whip. “Find that bitch! She’ll be runnin’ straight to warn Slaughter, and you damn-sure better find her before she does.” The whip snapped like a rifle shot as it kissed Bo’s behind, causing him to yelp in pain. Both men hunkered down subserviently, cowering before their mother’s rage until she tired of the lashing.
When the beating was over and P. D. had calmed down, Arlo got painfully to his feet. Bo was considerably slower in accomplishing the same, having suffered not only his mother’s rage, but still feeling the effects of the sound beating he had just absorbed at the hands of his brother. “I ain’t sure we can track her in the dark, Mama,” Arlo said.
“You damn-sure better,” P. D. fired back. “Get up that mountain and look for her. She can’t get far.”
There was no hesitation as all three jumped to obey her command. At the pine thicket where Arlo had laid Molly down, he paused to look back at his mother. “What if Slaughter comes back while we’re gone?” he asked.
“Then I’ll damn-sure shoot his ass,” P. D. replied. Then, after a moment’s pause, she said, “I’ll keep Wiley here with me just in case.”
“I’ll get the horses,” Bo volunteered, but P. D. held up a hand to stop him.
“You don’t need no horse,” she said. “She ain’t got no horse. Get up through them trees and root her out.” Without further delay, both men scrambled up through the trees, vanishing in the darkness.
“They’d break their necks tryin’ to ride a horse up that mountain in the dark,” Wiley said as he and P. D. returned to the cabin.
“Why, that’s a fact,” she said, surprised by the sensible remark from her youngest. “You seen that right off, didn’t you, son?” She reached over and patted Wiley on the back. “Let that be a lesson to you. See what happens when you let your britches get in the way of your business.” She glanced back toward the darkened mountainside, her voice stern again. “If their foolishness causes me to lose that Slaughter feller, I’ll take the hide off both of ’em.”
* * *
Huddled in the crevice of a large boulder above the tree line, Molly strained to control her heavy breathing, her heart still pumping solidly after her rapid climb up the steep slope. At least one hundred feet below her, she could hear the thrashing around in a thicket as Arlo and Bo stumbled in the dark, cursing and panting when they blundered into unseen limbs and underbrush.
When the two brothers had been distracted by their lust for her, she had slipped away into the forest. Climbing for all she was worth, ignoring the slaps and scratches encountered in the dark thicket, she pushed onward until she had what she judged to be a safe distance between herself and her pursuers. Now, upon hearing the confusion below her, she decided it was safer to stay put, right where she was, for to keep going she would have to cross over some very rugged ledges and gullies in the dark. The pause also gave her time to think about her situation.
She had no idea which direction Matt might be coming from. Chances of finding him were slim at best. She had had no choice of escape routes, anyway, even had there been time to think about it. Alone, with no weapon, not even a knife, the only thing she had was a flint and steel in the pocket of her deerskin shirt. With no notion as to how long she had hidden in the crevice, she suddenly realized that it had been some time since she had heard her pursuers. Alarmed at first, thinking that they might be sneaking silently along the rock ledge that led to the boulder she was hiding in, her heart began to beat rapidly once again. Holding very still, afraid to even breathe, she listened, straining to hear even a faint sound that would tell her they were near.
Afraid to leave her hiding place, while fearful that she might be trapped in the fissure, she waited, listening. Moments passed, then minutes, with no sound. A single beam of light suddenly danced across the rocky ledge before the crevice as a full moon began its climb up over the mountain. Her heart skipped a beat then, fearful that the mountaintop would soon be bathed in moonlight. At that moment, she heard a distant voice, as one of the brothers called to the other, and she realized that they had gone in the opposite direction and were heading away from her, toward the far si
de of the mountain.
This, she realized, was her chance to escape. Now the moonlight was welcome, for it would light her way across the ledges and down the side of the mountain. With luck, she might be able to make her way down to Broken Hand’s village when morning came.
* * *
He had been fortunate to get close enough to the elk cow to take the shot with his bow. Leaving the paint and his packhorse in a small pocket halfway up the slope, he had climbed up through the rocks before daylight, barely able to see two feet ahead of him. The moon had settled behind the neighboring mountain by the time he reached the high meadow and settled beside a small boulder to await the dawn. He scanned the area around him, trying to get a clear picture in the predawn darkness. The open meadow was a feeding place for elk. He had seen sign there the day before. Off to his right there had appeared to be several large bushes. It had been hard to make them out in the darkness, but he didn’t recall noticing them before, when he was up there in the daylight.
He had to laugh when he thought about it. With his rifle as backup, in case he didn’t get close enough for the bow, he had sat with his back against the rock awaiting the first rays of the sun. Just as objects around him began to take definitive shape in the gray light, the large bushes on his right began to move. He had realized only then that he had crawled up in the middle of a herd of elk. Unaware of the man’s presence, the huge animals had begun to wander out into the meadow. Matt had simply waited behind his rock until a large cow passed close to him.
Zeb would get a good chuckle out of it—the supposedly skilled tracker sitting dumbly in the middle of a herd of elk without even knowing it. Maybe I won’t even tell him how I got the elk, he thought, smiling to himself as he tied a rope around a hoof. That done, he threw the other end over a tree limb and hauled on the rope, lifting the cow’s leg up in the air. With the rope tied off around the tree trunk, he could more easily begin the butchering.
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