The raid on Linnville had been disturbing. There weren’t many casualties, thank the good Lord, but she had witnessed a few go down under their swinging tomahawks and spears. But then the destruction of the town had started.
While the citizens had made the smart move and gotten onto several boats and moved out of distance from the Comanche, the Indians used the opportunity to completely pillage the town. They tied mattresses to the back of their horses and drug them through town for fun. When they brought out bolts of beautiful fabric, Serena had almost wept when they drug it around, destroying it and tearing it to shreds. She knew it was foolish, it was only a thing, not a person being harmed. But she was beginning to resent the Indians for taking everything they found beautiful and making fun of it or destroying it.
Then they uncovered ladies’ jackets and umbrellas, and had fun dressing up in the frocks and parading around with the umbrellas. They had looked ridiculous in her eyes, and she could tell that most of them must have found alcohol somewhere, because their behavior went from ridiculous to careless and messy.
They had barely been able to load all of the loot they were stealing onto their horses, and rode a short way away to camp for the night. And they were reliving their tales of the raid as Serena sat on the outer circle of the fire.
“At least you can finally sit with us,” one of the hostages said softly.
Serena turned her head and looked at the group, worn and ragged and tired. The one who had spoken to her had long brown hair with lighter strings of gold making it almost glitter in the moonlight. She had wide, innocent eyes, but Serena knew by looking at her harder, she was far from unharmed.
“My name is Serena. What’s yours?”
“Jerelyn. I miss my family.”
Serena felt tears form in her eyes. She missed her family, too. She wanted to be home with them. With Trevor’s arms around her in a loving embrace the way Lorenzo held Angie or the way Cade held Olivia. How had she fallen in love with him? He was all about rules and the law and everything she fought against all the time! She felt a slight bit of warmth touch her heart. He had proven he was a rebel, too, though. They were both fighters.
“Whatever made you smile—you must hold on to that. If you don’t have something to make you smile, they will break you.”
Serena refocused her attention on Jerelyn. “What do you have that makes you smile?”
“My Papa. He’s so strong, and he works so hard. And on Sundays when we go to church he puts on his special shirt and he smells like his fresh tobacco and soap. He always smokes his pipe with his friends on the back porch after church. When I was younger I would sneak under the house to listen, but now—”
“Stop!” A small hand slapped hard across Serena’s cheek and then across Jerelyn’s. “You do not talk!”
Serena bowed her head to show acceptance of the older woman’s rule and nudged Jerelyn sharply when she didn’t do the same. When the woman had turned back to the festivities and didn’t seem to be listening to them, Jerelyn nudged Serena. “How do you know their language?”
“Two of my closest friends when I was growing up were an old Comanche man and his son. They aren’t all bad. They taught me many good things.”
“I’ve yet to meet one I like,” Jerelyn said harshly.
Serena couldn’t argue with her. “All we can do is pray that the rangers and militia get to us soon. We are getting closer and closer to the Mexico border, and I don’t know what will happen if we cross into that territory.”
“Don’t worry. Your man is going to save you. I can feel it.”
Serena’s head whipped around so fast she had to squeeze her eyes shut against the pain that burst in her head and the horrible lightheadedness. “What do you mean?” she whispered, keeping one eye on the old woman.
“He escaped this morning. I watched him. He was so very clever about it. And they are all so excited about their raid that they’ve forgotten him completely. At least, that’s what it seems like.”
Hope blossomed in Serena’s chest and she felt like crying again, but this time it would be happy tears. She had hope to cling to again. And she had come so very close to falling into despair. She focused on everything she could remember about Trevor as she began to drift asleep. His smile that lit up his eyes. His high cheekbones and square jaw. His beard that constantly itched her, and how wonderful it was when he had shaved. His eyebrows that were a little too bushy, but that was okay, because, somehow, it looked right on him. His arms... His chest...
The jolt startled her awake and one of the squaws was looming over her, about to backslap her. Serena deliberately stuck out her jaw, ready for whatever abuse they planned to dole out. She could handle it after finally getting a little bit of sleep. The woman sneered at her, then moved to wake up Jerelyn with a slap, when Serena tipped to the side, pretend gasping in surprise as she fell against Jerelyn, waking her up. The old woman glared at both of them but moved on down the line, making sure all the women were awake.
It was still very early in the morning, and they were mounting up quickly. Something must have happened. They wouldn’t be leaving this early, especially after the celebration they had the night before, unless something had happened to urge them to move, and to do so quickly.
She had heard word of the skirmishes among the scouting parties, and prayed the militia had gotten closer and was growing in size. Perhaps that was the reason they were moving so fast. She clung to that hope as she was thrown onto a horse and sent off riding again with the group as rapidly as possible.
They rode hard the entire day, then finally stopped and camped for the night. But the Comanche wouldn’t light any fires. Serena strongly suspected they were afraid of being seen. Which meant help was close. Either that, or one of the other Indian tribes they were at war with was close, and that meant they all would probably die. She refused to believe that was a possibility.
They rode for two more days, and Serena was past the point of exhaustion. They had taken so many different turns at different times she didn’t know whether they were north, south, east or west of where they had originally started. All she wanted was to have a warm meal and feel safe. Even though they were rushing, the women still took every opportunity possible to bully her and make her life difficult.
But it wasn’t as much as it had been in the beginning. Now she was being forced to make tortillas, which she was very familiar with doing, and put them on the fire to cook. But one of the times her hand hovered over the hot plate, another came down on her arm, forcefully pressing her arm into the excruciating heat.
Serena couldn’t stop her cry of pain and tried to pull away but realized that there were several women around her. The one pressing her arm to the plate was the squaw she had scratched, and she couldn’t see the other two that were pinning her down.
The scent of singed hair and skin met her nose and she thought she was going to gag. “Stop! Please, for the love of God, stop!”
“Why should I? You’re better off dead to me. I will always be coming after you, hunting you, hurting you and any children you may have with him.”
Serena was on the verge of passing out when all of them suddenly stood and went about other duties. Serena was shaking violently and knew she was on the verge of losing her slight grasp of sanity. But her wound needed to be treated, and quickly, or it could get far, far worse.
She stumbled backwards but was caught around the waist by large, deeply tanned hands. She was pivoted around slowly and she faced the large warrior who looked murderous. “Why do you scream? Why do you draw unnecessary attention upon yourself?”
Serena barely even registered what he was saying. “Aloe vera should help. That, or the inside of a cactus leaf. I must find something.” She was looking around the ground as she talked to him.
“What nonsense do you babble about now? How am I to tolerate you as my wife when you can’t ever speak clearly?”
“Don’t marry me,” she mumbled, then turned and headed to what a
ppeared to be an aloe vera plant.
“You do not ever walk away from me,” he said, obviously with growing anger, especially when Serena didn’t stop.
He roughly grabbed her arm and she fell to her knees in front of him, gasping for her breath. “What dark spirit has possessed you, woman? I’m not holding you that tightly—” His voice trailed off as he felt a slickness on her skin and he looked down at her arm.
“By the Gods! Who did this to you? I want to know right now. Point them out to me!”
All three of the women were within earshot and hesitated in their duties, ready for Serena to throw them to the wolves, or, in this case, a strong tree that could probably harm them even worse than a wolf. Serena shook her head “no.”
“I was careless,” she said softly.
His eyes darted after the scarred woman and her friends who were busying themselves with other chores and tasks. But, by the look in his eyes, he knew. And he made sure each one of them knew that he was aware of what they had done, as well.
He returned his attention to Serena, who had broken out into a clammy sweat, and could only think of him releasing her as quickly as possible. Slowly, gently, he lifted his fingers off of her deep burn, but still she couldn’t refrain from the soft whimper of pain and the tear that slid out of one eye.
“Come with me. We’ll work on your injury.”
She only made it a few steps before everything began spinning rapidly. She felt herself falling, and felt his strong arms catch her and hold her gently, almost as if he really cared about what happened to her. She tried to thank him, to tell him she knew how hard it was for him to be kind to her, but her words seemed to come out so slowly. But, as her vision faded she saw he was nodding at her, as if he understood what she was trying to say. And then there was nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“You have to ride now. Woman. Woman!”
Serena’s eyes cracked open and she was looking into the face of Strong Tree. He was frowning, but there was another emotion in his eyes, but she was overwhelmed by so much pain that she could barely contain the scream that clamored at the back of her throat.
He caught her chin and forced her to make eye contact with him, and she suddenly realized they were moving. He was holding her on top of a horse, riding at a slow trot.
“What...” She struggled to remember what had happened. Where had the time gone? The sun was up, and it had been setting the last she remembered.
She began to lift her arm to rake her hair out of her eyes and a bolt of white lightening shot through her. But she couldn’t make a sound. She could never show them she was weak. So she fought the tears that piled up, fought to keep them from falling. “Why are you helping me?” she asked, her voice thick with the unshed tears.
He shook his head as he looked down at her. “I only wish I had done more. I tried... I tried and I failed.”
Now I’m hallucinating. Nothing he is saying makes sense.
“I already told you—not everything is as it seems. I fought very hard to claim you for my future bride. It would stop the others from... from hurting you far worse than you are already hurt. But it went too far yesterday. Way too far. I should have known Dancing Spirit would have come after you again after what you did to her face.”
“I had no choice. I had to fight back against her.”
“You did the right thing. It gained you respect from all the other women. But Dancing Spirit has many friends who are willing to help her, even if they know they can be, and will be, punished later.”
Serena’s mind was trying to grasp what he was saying. “So all this time—everything that has been happening—you’ve been trying to protect me? Why? Is it only because I am to become your wife?”
He frowned at her. “You are too sick to even understand the things I am saying. I will try to explain more later. Now, you must ride. I know you are in pain. But battle is upon us, and I need you to ride. Stay to the back. And, please, stay safe.”
He was being genuine. He really did care what happened to her. She nodded and he slowed his horse so he could carefully lift her over onto the one that rode next to them. She gritted her teeth against the pain, but refused to make a sound.
“If you see your man,” Strong Tree continued, “Go to him. The Comanche do not shoot someone in the back. Whether you are on horse or by foot, you must go to him. They must see you go to him willingly on your own, or they will try to claim you again. You must be strong.”
Serena nodded, intertwining her fingers in the horse’s mane. “Thank you.” She tried to make her voice as strong as possible.
She still didn’t understand what he was doing or why. But she wasn’t about to deny the opportunity he was putting in front of her. Suddenly the cries of the Indians war screams penetrated the air.
Strong Tree looked at her for a few seconds, and then suddenly let the backs of his fingers slide down her face in a gentle caress. “Take care of yourself, woman. I will always remember you are as brave as any warrior I’ve ever met.”
On those final words he took off, racing his horse forward to join the other warriors that plunged forward in battle.
It was pure and simple chaos. That was the only word Trevor could think of as they finally came upon the Indians he had hunted for so long. Initially, a large group of warriors charged forward to meet them upon the field near Plum Creek.
But then, unexpectedly, a large quantity of the Indians split off into different directions. Was this some type of trick? Or were they trying to divide them up in such a way the militia would chase them down into their own unexpected trap set by the Indians?
All he focused on was each warrior that drew close towards them, unloading his rifle so quickly he raced to reload it. Several warriors fell as he fired off his weapon, but there were just too many of them.
He saw Logan and Ryder further ahead of him on the right, also with frustrated expressions on their faces as they fired over and over again. They were coming straight towards them, and the distance was rapidly closing in between them. Cade and Lorenzo rode to his left, with the bravery and strength he would expect of his seasoned rangers. He had gained a lot of respect for the two men over the last several days, and would be comfortable riding alongside them at any time.
Finally, out of frustration, he pulled out his revolver and began to take down each warrior he aimed at. But without any hesitation, both sides crashed into each other, where the Indians had the advantage of their tomahawks and spears.
Trevor slammed his body into one of the warriors, knocking him from his horse. When he went to slam another, though, this warrior was ready, and slammed his body into Trevor’s just as hard. The force both exerted with their horses running in opposite directions was enough to knock them from their seats and they tumbled to the dry and dusty ground.
Immediately, they were surrounded by horses thundering around them. Trevor kept looking for ways to get at the warrior who was also watching him through the horses. Then he grinned at Trevor, whooped loudly and jumped on the back of the horse of one of his fellow Indians.
Trevor was exposed in one of the worst ways possible. But he, too, could work magic with the animals as they ran past. A stout paint horse came racing nearby, no longer carrying a rider. Trevor began running as fast as he could and firmly grabbed the horse’s mane as it raced by him, using the horse’s momentum and his own, as well as a hell of a lot of strength, to swing up onto the back.
Staying low against the horse’s neck he reloaded his revolver and began to target the warriors once again. But they were thinning out rapidly, many of them turning and running in other directions. They were fleeing... they were giving up.
Part of him was elated. They had defeated the large war party. But where were their hostages?
“Follow them!” he yelled to the men around them, and they thundered behind him.
But his eyes were drawn to an area where many of the horses laden with the treasures pillaged from the homes and busi
nesses in Victoria and Linnville were being left to the side by the fleeing Indians.
“Lorenzo!” he shouted to his new friend who rode not far behind him, and he pointed in the direction of the horses.
“Yes, sir!” Lorenzo shouted back as he peeled off and went after the discarded horses.
And that was when Trevor saw the hostages. They had been abandoned. His heart thundered when he saw a few of them were on the ground. Others still sat on horseback, and some were walking about, stumbling.
Trevor turned his horse towards them, with Cade, Ryder, and Logan, as well as a handful of members of the militia followed. Trevor swung off his horse before it had come to a complete stop as he came across the first hostage. The woman was middle-aged and seemed dazed and confused. Trevor looked over at Cade, who had also just swung off his horse, and he nodded to him, moving forward to take the woman into his care.
Trevor ran forward to the first woman on the ground, and he saw an arrow sticking out of her side and he inwardly cringed. He kneeled down next to her and was shocked to see her wide-eyed and moving. “What has happened?” she demanded. “Why are they leaving? Why are they letting us go?”
He didn’t answer her as his hands moved up to where the arrow protruded and he nearly laughed in relief. “Madam, I do believe your corset has just saved your life.”
“What are you talking about?” her voice was slightly high-pitched.
Trevor grabbed a hold of the arrow and pulled it free from her corset, relieved that no blood came forth. He waved the arrow in front of her startled face. “This hit your corset, madam, instead of you. I’d say you are very lucky!”
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