Marna

by Norah Hess

  She stepped quickly to the mantel and took down Hertha's long rifle. She stood in the gloom, debating what she should do next, when the door creaked open and a man's form darkened the doorway. With a frightened gasp and blood pounding in her ears, Marna brought the rifle to her shoulder, took fast aim at the man's head, squeezed her eyes shut, and pulled the trigger.

  The rifle spat and her shoulder jerked. She heard the man curse and her eyes flew open. The figure came to a halt, but only momentarily. He had only been blinded by the gunpowder and now came toward her. Yielding to the panic that gripped her, she turned and raced toward her room. There was a bolt on her door that would hold long enough for her to scream. Her mouth flew open to yell her first cry, and the man was upon her. As they wrestled back and forth on the floor, the firelight fell on his face. "You!" she whispered in terror.

  Corey's thick lips twisted into a leering grin. "Yeah, me."

  Gaining strength in her desperation, Marna struggled all the harder. "Get your hands off me!" she gasped out. "You turn me loose immediately."

  His eyes fastened on her heaving breasts, Corey sneered, "Not on your life. I mean to take you away with me. Back in the hills I've got a cave all fixed up, and that's where I'm takin' you. I been gettin' it ready ever since the first time I saw you naked. I got enough food stashed there to last us six months. I figure I ought to have my fill of you in that length of time."

  Corey's grimy hand was inside her shirt. With all her strength Marna struggled to get from beneath his great weight and free her wrists, held by his large hand. She opened her mouth to scream, then snapped it shut. If Grandma should come running in, the hunter wouldn't hesitate to shoot her.

  Marna's threshing about had only fanned Corey's lust. His fingers kneaded and pressed her breasts roughly. His face flushed with excitement, he muttered, "I wish I had time to lay with you now. Soon as we get a ways from the cabin, I'm gettin' between them fine legs."

  Her eyes full of fear and revulsion, Mama shrank away from him. "You'll never get away with it. You'll be tracked down and killed."

  Corey's lips pulled into a wolfish smile. "Who'll know I've got you? The old woman is out in the barn, and Matt left for Philadelphia this mornin'. Besides, nobody knows you're back."

  Marna's body went stiff and she stared up at him. "Did you say Matt? Matt Barton?"

  Corey's smile faded to annoyance. He hadn't meant to tell her yet that Matt lived. It had been his plan that he would wait until she lay helpless beneath him before he spit the news out at her. He would brag that the idea was his. He would tell her it had cost him a piece of money to convince the soldier to tell her that Matt Barton was dead.

  He gave her breast a tweak and growled, "So now you know." Seeing the gleam of gladness and hope that lighted Marna's eyes, he snarled confidently, "Barton won't do you any good. We'll be long gone by the time he gets back. And you'll never tell him. By the time I'm finished with you, you won't even know your own name, much less be able to rat on me."

  Corey jerked a dirty rag from his pocket and shoved it in Marna's mouth. Then, grabbing her arm and twisting it cruelly behind her back, he dragged her to her feet and steered her out the door. Half led, half dragged, she stumbled blindly alongside him, barely able to breathe. They came to the fringe of the forest and stopped beside two saddled mounts. Corey gave her a sharp shove and ordered, "Climb up on that roan."

  She stared at him defiantly, shaking her head. His big hand came up and slashed across her face. She staggered back and grabbed at a tree to keep from falling. While her head spun dizzily, he picked her up and tossed her into the saddle. She grabbed wildly at the mount's mane as they tore off through the forest.

  As Marna fought to control the beast, she heard Hertha scream her name. She threw a look over her shoulder in time to see the old woman rushing after them. Then they were out of sight, and she tried to console herself with the thought that in time Matt would learn that Corey had taken her. For Grandma's sake, if nothing else, he would hunt this animal down and kill him.

  As they raced along, Marna was sure her head would be torn from her body. At their breakneck speed, branches whipped at her face, and brush tore at her clothing. Still, she dreaded the time when Corey would draw the horses to a halt. His voiced intentions beat at her mind, and she shivered. God only knew what would happen to her then. Dove had told her some horrifying stories about the man.

  Twice she tried to draw her mount away from him, but each time, his mouth spewing curses, he caught her. Finally he jerked the reins from her hands and guided the animal himself.

  Suddenly they were bathed in moonlight as they raced across a small, burned-out clearing. When they reentered the forest, Corey brought the mounts to a rearing halt. Trying to keep her balance, Marna was unprepared when Corey jerked her from the saddle. He tried to embrace her immediately, but automatically she brought her knee up sharply between his legs. Letting out a howl of rage and pain, he struck out at her. Desperate in her fright, she managed to avoid the punishing fist. Her mind screaming escape, she eluded his reaching hand and sprang into the saddle. She dug her heels into the little roan, and he raced away. But her long hair, streaming behind, was caught and held by her tormentor.

  With one quick jerk she was torn from the saddle and sent sprawling to the ground. While she lay stunned, Corey yanked a piece of rawhide from a pocket and stood over her. She grew uneasy at the crafty gleam in his eyes, and pulled in her feet to rise. But, surprisingly fast for his bulk, he grabbed her hands and tied them behind her back. Panting from his exertion, he rasped out, "Sit still now while I build us a fire." His face took on a leering smile. "You can think on the lovin' you're gonna get after a while."

  Corey's freakish laugh floated back to her as he went off to gather wood. Marna's eyes searched the forest frantically. Somehow she had to get away from this lustcrazed man. She twisted her legs beneath her and jerked to her feet. Should she try to get on the horse? It was doubtful if she could with her hands tied. Her best bet would be to run, to lose herself in the trees.

  Corey's hateful cackle sounded behind her. "You wasn't thinkin' of leavin' me, was you?" he bated, throwing down an armful of wood.

  With a ragged sob she sat back down and watched through dull eyes as Corey built a fire. When it burned to his satisfaction, he sat down beside her and removed the rag from her mouth. Taking a piece of smoke-cured meat from a pocket, he held it to her lips. She jerked her head away and spat out at him, "I don't want your filthy food. I want you to turn me loose."

  His grating laugh came again. "I couldn't do that, Missy. I've waited a long time to get you out here. Old Corey don't waste his time." He urged the meat on her again. "You'd better eat. You're gonna need a lot of strength for what I got in mind. I guess you've heard I take a lot of pleasurin'."

  Marna looked away from him to hide the terror that had leapt into her eyes.

  When Corey finished his meal, he brought a bottle from his saddlebag. Mama heard the stopper pop, then the gurgling sound as the liquid rushed down his throat. Then, without warning, his rough and dirty hands were upon her. "I've been waitin' a long time to see these purty white tits again," he mumbled, pulling at the laces of her shirt. In his haste the buckskin tore and she was bared to his view. Her hands tied behind her back, she was helpless as his hands ran over her shrinking flesh.

  His breath coming hot and fast against her face, he mumbled, "Did a man ever see such a sight. God, are they gonna be sweet to suck."

  Repulsed to her very soul, Marna shrank away from him. His hand fastened in her hair and he growled darkly, "You come here." Before she knew what was happening, he had thrown his head in her lap, and had jerked her forward so that she hung over his face. He stared a moment at her suspended breasts, then his thick lips reached up and clamped onto a nipple. She pulled away and opened her mouth to scream, but the viselike grip in her hair grew tighter, and Corey removed his mouth long enough to growl, "If you scream, missy, I'll bite your tit off."
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br />   Marna went still. He had done exactly that to a young squaw one time. As his mouth closed over her again, she bit back her loathing and endured him.

  It seemed to go on for hours, first one and then the other breast savagely attacked. When she thought she coufd stand it no longer, the sound of drumming hooves cut through the night's stillness.

  Corey jerked erect and bounded to his feet. Hastily he cut her bonds and tossed her into the saddle. She heard him mutter angrily, "The bastard has picked up our tracks." He swatted her mount on the rump, sending it springing away.

  Once again they were ripping through the forest, a raw wind chilling Marna's bare chest. One hand struggled to hold the shirt together, while the other gripped the reins, trying to slow the mount. But its terrified eyes rolled and it plunged on. Caught up in trying to control the animal, she didn't even think to scream.

  Praying as she had never prayed, Marna heard a bloodcurdling yell rip out of the forest. Corey threw a startled, frightened look over his shoulder. What he'saw made him bend over his mount and lash it savagely on.

  Marna's mind spun crazily. What to do now? A rider raced out of the woods and grabbed the reins from her hands. The little roan was jerked to a halt, swiftly turned around, and sent on again.

  The pace of the horses blurred the ground beneath Marna, and branches lashed at her head and shoulders. Dumbly she gripped the flying mane and hung on. Whoever held the reins now had to be better than Corey, even if it was a warring brave.

  The stride of the roan broke, then slowed, and her companion brought the mounts to a halt. Marna was surprised to see they had returned to the nearly dead campfire. Fearfully she directed a glance at the figure sliding off the little shaggy pony. Her eyes went wide, and she gasped, "Dove!"

  Dove leapt to catch her slowly tumbling body. Giving in to her relief and terror, Marna wept hysterically, crying over and over, "Oh, Dove, Dove, you don't know what I've been through."

  Dove let her cry a moment longer, then held her away. "Marna, you forget that I know very well what that man is. You were lucky he didn't have time to really show you."

  Marna gazed into the haunted, knowing eyes and felt ashamed. Her suffering at Corey's hands had been minute in comparision to what Dove had suffered from the brutal hunter. "Forgive me, Dove," she begged. "It was a senseless thing for me to say to you."

  "That's all right," Dove said, beginning to lace Marna's torn shirt together. "You spoke without thinking."

  When Dove had finished with the lacings, Mama asked, "How did you happen to be out in the forest at this hour?"

  Dove motioned toward the two mounts standing with sweated hides. "I'll tell you while we ride."

  Riding at a slow walk, Dove began. "Just before dusk I went looking for dandelions for Henry's supper. I had my basket almost filled when I saw Corey ride by. I became suspicious, as he kept in the woods instead of following the trail. I knew he could only be going up to Hertha's place, and I wondered why he was being so sneaky. At first I was going to follow him, but then I decided I would cut across the forest and keep an eye on the old woman's cabin. He's had it in for her ever since she took after him because of me."

  Dove paused to hold a branch out of their path, then continued. "I arrived on the hill and hid back in the trees. I could see Hertha tending her stock, and mostly I kept my eyes on her, not knowing that you were there. When Corey came out of the cabin, pushing you in front of him, I nearly fainted." Dove patted her rifle. "I was afraid to shoot at him for fear I'd hit you. I decided to follow you and grab your mount the first chance I got. Then, just before he stopped here to make a fire, I was knocked out of the saddle by a low-hanging branch. By the time I caught the spooked animal, I glimpsed Matt racing by, looking like the devil himself."

  Dove paused again, as though remembering the still, set features of Matt's face as he tore through the forest Then, giving herself a small shake, she took up her story again. "When Corey saw Matt on his heels, I screamed, hoping to throw more fear in him. The rest you know. I wanted to get you out of the way so that Matt could use his rifle."

  There was silence for some moments, then Marna said in a cold, hard voice, "I hope Matt tortures that animal before he kills him. For the first time in my life, I want vengeance."

  Dove threw her a grim smile. "You can rest your mind on that. When Matt gets his hands on Corey, it won't be pretty, what he does to him." She nudged her rested pony into a slow, rocking lope. "I saw Hertha take off down the hill when I raced after you and Corey. I'm sure she's waiting at your cabin for news." She tossed Marna a grin. "I wouldn't be surprised if someone else doesn't show up there later, looking for you.,,

  Her heart raced joyfully, Marna gathered the reins tighter and lunged ahead of Dove's little pony. To see Matt again. To feel him, maybe be held in his arms.

  Dove smiled and raced after her.

  Matt didn't leave for Philadelphia the morning he had planned, although he had fully meant to. He had worked at the idea the night before, priming himself to leave at daybreak. When the sun peeked over the hills, his grub was packed and tied on Sam's back.

  He stood at Sam's head, waiting for Jawer to come in. All night he had heard the hound running, his high, singing yelp resounding through the hills and valleys. He had muttered once as he turned over in bed, "Got himself a bear on the run."

  Now, however, as he fidgeted at the saddle, he was beginning to worry. Jawer hadn't barked or bayed for the last two hours. He hoped the hound hadn't been foolish enough to tangle with a bear.

  As Matt waited, debating if he should go looking for the hound, he saw Corey step out of the main quarters. The hunter walked to the corner of the building and relieved himself in the tall brown grass. When he had finished, he looked up and saw Matt. "Where you off to so early?" he called out.

  "Philadelphia," Matt answered shortly and turned his back to him. Corey scowled at the broad back a moment, then turned and reentered the building.

  About to step into the saddle and go looking for the hound, Matt stopped with one foot in the stirrup. He had heard a low whimpering of pain just a few feet from the cabin.

  He found Jawer stretched out in a patch of weeds. The bear had caught him from haunch to shoulder, the sharp claws laying his side open. All thoughts of the trip were pushed out of his mind as he gathered the dog up and hurried into the cabin.

  Placing the limp body close to the fire, and laying on more wood, he rushed back outside. He must get the stallion into the newly erected shed. The bear might have followed Jawer home. He didn't want to lose Sam to the varmint, too.

  Hurrying back to the cabin, he told himself he would unsaddle the horse later. Inside, he rolled up his sleeves and scrubbed his hands. Then, from a small wooden box he took out a curved needle and a length of gut thread.

  The sun was well up by the time he had finished stitching and doctoring the hound. He stood looking down at him with grave doubts that Jawer would make it. He lay so quietly, his eyes rolled back and his tongue lolling on the floor.

  Matt stayed in the cabin all day, tending his friend. Every few minutes he dribbled water from a cloth onto the dry tongue and as far down the throat as he could reach. It was almost dusk and he was having his supper when he saw the long tail move ever so slightly. He rose from the table and hurried to squat beside his patient. Brown eyes gazed up at him, soft and grateful. The long tongue was once again folded back in the dog's mouth.

  In heartfelt relief, Matt scratched the burr-tangled ears, murmuring, "How you feelin', fellow? Are you hungry?"

  The tail moved again, a little stronger, and Matt rose and moved to the table. He hurriedly sliced some venison off a large roast and carried it back to the dog. Slowly and carefully he fed the dog. An hour later, as he sat smoking his pipe, Jawer carefully moved onto his stomach.

  Matt leaned over and patted the rough head. "You're gonna make it, old man."

  He had just leaned back in his chair when the door burst open and Hertha stood there. Her
eyes were wild and she gasped for breath. Matt jumped to his feet, sending the chair over backward. "Grandma! What in the world is wrong?"

  He helped her to the fire, righted the chair, and sat her in it. Squatting in front of her, he grabbed and held the twitching fingers. "Get your breath, then tell me what's wrong."

  Hertha's eyes were wide as she continued to stare at him. Her bent fingers came out to touch his arm. "Matt, is it you? I thought you were dead."

  He smiled at her. "As you can see, I'm not. Now, what's wrong?"

  "It...it's Marna, Matt," she brought out between gasps. "That buzzard Corey just ran away with her."

  Stunned, Matt sat back on his heels. Corey had Marna. "When did she come back, Grandma?"

  "She's been back over a week. While I was tendin' the stock, Corey sneaked into the cabin and got her."

  His eyes wild and gleaming red, Matt jumped to his feet "Which direction did he take her?"

  "They went southeast, straight into the forest. Corey was ridin' like he had the devil on his tail."

  Rushing into his coat and jerking the rifle from over the mantel, Matt exclaimed explosively, "The devil is on his tail."

  Before slamming the door behind him, he called back, "I'll bring her back to you, Grandma. You can rest easy on that fact"

  In no time Hertha heard the stallion's great hooves kicking up stone and gravel as he shot past the window.

  Sam took the hill in long, lurching leaps. But it seemed forever to Matt before Hertha's cabin and outbuildings loomed before him. They looked ghostly, outlined against the gray darkness, and he shivered.

  He shot an impatient glance at the sky. When would the blasted moon rise? Riding to the edge of the forest, he swung down. In the meantime he would see if he could make out any tracks in the darkness.

  A good ten minutes were wasted before the yellow ball crept over the treetops and bathed the hills in its light. Matt gave a satisfied grunt and bent to search for signs. In a minute's time he came upon trampled leaves and scuffed pine needles. On a bare spot of red clay Marna's slender footprint sprang up at him. He clenched his fists and groaned aloud. Somewhere out there in the wilderness Marna was in the hands of that vermin, Corey.