She glared at him, then asserted contemptuously, “I was told that was the reason for bringing along those other two ladies,” a definite tone of scorn placed upon the last word.
Rebecca grew rosy just recalling the lewdness she had witnessed along this tormenting journey from St. Louis to Fort Dakota. She was not a fool; she knew this man—as well as many others—had made loathsome offers to her despicable great-uncle for her so-called “services.” She hated them all! She raged against the fate which had taken her parents’ lives, leaving her defenseless and penniless and heartbroken, placing her in the guileful hands of her insidious kinsman.
“Come now, Miss Kenny; you’re the only real lady hereabouts,” he rebuked her. A lazy halfgrin ensnared his full lips as he submitted his repugnant solution to her dilemma, “You know my generous offer of protection stands clear anytime you wish to claim it. You caught my eye the first time I saw you. You wouldn’t have any worries at all with me,” he promised, allowing his reprehensible gaze to rove over her tempting body and beautiful face once more.
Rebecca stared at him, barely containing her disdain. She studied him for a short time. Not that Jake wasn’t nice-looking or doubtlessly the best choice of the entire troop, but he was too brash and coarse. A streak of savage ruthlessness and deadly over-confidence exuded from him. He was detestable, dangerous.
Jake had previously made it indelicately clear that she could not long elude him and his amorous plans for her. Dread seized her innocent heart until she felt she could hardly breathe. Only her lucid eyes exhibited these emotions which the defiant, proud tilt of her dainty chin sought to conceal.
“If your dear uncle has his way, you’ll end up far worse than you would with me,” he taunted her.
Admittedly Jake was correct, but she puffed up indignantly and bravely refuted his tactless words, “Don’t be ridiculous, Captain Selby! Uncle Jamie would never treat me in such a crude and offensive manner. Besides, I find such nasty talk as repulsive as such vulgar conduct. You forget your rank and manners, sir,” she boldly rebuked him with the hope he would drop this line of conversation. When mocking laughter filled her ears, she tartly added, “If it’s female companionship you seek, I suggest you return to camp and visit the wagon of Lucy and Kate.”
His jovial laughter died instantly. He scanned her taut body and pink face. “You strike me as a smart girl, Rebecca; so don’t pretend you believe what you just said,” he acidly scolded her. “As for that mealy-mouthed uncle of yours, he would sell his own mother to my men if a good offer was made! When the time comes, which it will, I doubt you will find me as ‘repulsive’ then as you think you do now,” he smugly gloated, a knowing leer playing ominously upon his full lips and wickedly shining in his green eyes. “I desire much more from you than your charming body and eager responses in my bunk. I want my own private stock who has more to offer than a tasty body and a lusty appetite. I want a female who is just as valuable out of the bedroll as in it. I want a female who knows nothing of men, one who can be trained to pleasure me in the ways I choose,” he brazenly listed his demands to an open-mouthed, wide-eyed, stunned girl of seventeen.
“How dare you speak to me in this disgusting manner! Uncle Jamie will severely reprimand you for this unforgivable conduct!” she nearly shrieked at him as her voice returned and her senses cleared. What a horrid man he was!
Jake threw back his head and chortled in sinister amusement. Gluing his eyes on her alluring face, he informed the girl, “I dare because it will soon be too late to fulfill my wishes, my vixen. Jamie’s getting old and his greedy palm is getting mighty itchy to collect on the countless offers from my men. You know there’s only one man in this camp who can prevent his naughty plans for you,” he asserted. “If I were you, Rebecca, I would make my own choice known as quickly as possible. Private stock doesn’t include used goods,” he crudely threatened the frightened girl. “But either way, I will eventually sample and enjoy your…many charms,” he vowed, chilling her soul with his determination.
When he reached out to boldly caress her flawless complexion, she shrank from his offensive touch. She made the mistake of voicing her decision, “I would die first! No man will ever treat me like a Kate or Lucy.” Her eyes were hard with aversion.
“We’ll soon see, won’t we?” he sardonically debated, relishing his eventual triumph.
“You filthy animal!” she spat without thinking. “You’ll never touch me!”
At her stinging insult and adamant rejection, Jake’s face grew livid with anger. Seething fury was displayed by the tic which quivered along his stubbled jawline. His green eyes squinted to slits of virulent resolve. His tone was glacial when he finally spoke between clenched teeth, “I swear you’ll be mine, one way or another. If you hinder my private ownership, you’ll regret the day you were born a female. You’ve spurned me too long as it is. I know all about skittish, young virgins; I told you I would break you in gently,” he sneered, as if she were some wild filly to be bridled and mastered. “Your fate is as plain as these gold stripes on my shirt, so stop fooling yourself! If you give in right now, I’ll forget your past insults. If a man has a mind to, he can inflict a lot of pain upon a woman. If I’m not the first with you, I just might forget to be gentle and loving. As for Jamie O’Hara, I’ll kill that old coot if he tries to stop me from having you,” he growled.
She mutely stared at Jake in abhorrence and alarm, for she knew he meant every single word. She trembled and shook, even though this lovely May afternoon was sunny and warm. She was helplessly trapped like a fatigued animal in peril of survival. Her strength was no match for her predator’s. If only her father were here to protect and to comfort her…
Rebecca closed her eyes tightly against this monstrous evil which was invading her heart and life, thick lashes lying like tiny black feathers upon a snowbank. A tear eased down her cheek, for she honestly did not know which choice to make. How could she safely refuse Jake’s crude demands? By that same token, how could she ever relent to them?
Assuming her admission of defeat to him, Jake leaned forward to claim his beautiful prize. Terrified by his intimidating proximity, she protested in a tremulous tone, “I can’t…” Her heart thudded heavily in her chest like an exhausted rabbit’s as the talons of a mighty eagle closed over him.
He leaned back to gaze down into the face of exquisite beauty, soft innocence, and utter panic which had haunted his dreams for many weeks. He smiled and casually stated, “You can, and you will, because you have no other choice for honorable survival. It’s either me alone…or life in the wagon with Kate and Lucy. Since we both know you can’t endure a whore’s life, the choice is clearly me. In that light, why stall the inevitable?”
Honorable survival! Rebecca’s brain shrieked. Was survival worth such a degrading price? A harlot was a harlot whether it was for one man or twenty!
Jake’s mouth hastily came down rough and insistent upon her tender lips, parted for another brave refusal. His lips were bruising; they demanded a pleasing response which she could never grant. She instinctively struggled against his massive weight, his brute strength, and his dangerous and unruly lust, just as he vainly tried to enflame her with his fiery passion. She unknowingly kneed him in his taut groin as she attempted to stomp his booted foot to gain her freedom. He instantly doubled over in pain. A groan tore from his tight lips.
Seeing her chance for escape, she shoved him backwards and headed off into the dense cover of the woods. Blind fury overruled his agony; he was quickly upon his feet and hotly pursuing her. He rapidly diminished the scant distance between them. Keenly aware of what would take place when he caught up with her, she desperately ran as fast as she could. Her lungs burned and her side ached from her futile exertions. Her respiration came in quick, sharp pants. Her face was as white as a fluffy cloud upon an indigo horizon. Sheer terror flowed in her veins, for she knew her flight was as fruitless as it was vital.
When a strong hand snaked out to abruptly halt her
flight with a painful grip upon her flowing auburn tresses, she was jerked backwards and imprisoned within his powerful arms. Jake yanked her around to face him, throwing her against the rough, sticky bark of a spruce tree. He pinned her to it with his robust frame, glaring down into her ashen face with its crimson cheeks. Her chest heaved; she shuddered in unmasked terror.
“That was a dumb mistake, Rebecca. You shouldn’t have done that,” he icily stated.
“Please, Captain Selby. Don’t do this wicked thing. I can’t! Please,” she begged and reasoned to no avail.
“You owe me, woman! And I’ve had enough of your silly refusals! I’m taking you here and now!” he thundered at the quivering girl.
“My uncle will kill you for this!” she screamed at him. “You’re all a bunch of savage animals! I hate you! I’ll never let you touch me!” she cried out, inwardly knowing there was no way to prevent his inevitable assault.
“Before this hour’s past, you’ll be the sole property of Captain Jake Selby. Accept it, Rebecca; you’re mine,” he vowed.
Before Jake could carry out his threat, a look of shock and pain stamped his obdurate features as he lurched forward against her. A loud exhalation of air rushed over her curly head and she realized she’d heard a curious thud. He did not cry out or even speak. He simply gaped at her in horror, then collapsed to the ground, revealing the reason for his strange actions and anguished look: a tomahawk was buried between his shoulder blades near his evil heart and a stalwart Indian warrior was now facing her!
Too stunned to react, she merely stared at the incredibly masculine vision before her watchful eyes. Uncontrollably her eyes roamed his towering, virile frame; his shiny black eyes that revealed nothing but her mirrored image; his bronzed, handsome face that had a small, solid yellow circle painted upon each cheek and on his forehead; and the silver arrow which was suspended from a leather thong around his neck. Without even trying, he evoked tremendous strength, dauntless courage, and total masculinity. Never had she viewed such a perfect and compelling specimen of manhood and mettle. She marvelled at his arresting visage of undeniable prowess. It seemed he was a potent magnet, and even her iron will could not resist him.
Gradually returning to her senses, Rebecca glanced at the dead man at her feet, then settled her wide eyes upon the intrepid brave. He had neither moved nor spoken, and confusion flooded her murky eyes. It seemed absurd to thank this Indian for his timely intervention; assuredly his motive was neither chivalrous nor amicable. Nor did she know what to do. She was at his mercy; yet, he made no attempt to harm her. To flee was impossible, so she remained where she was. She glanced in the direction toward camp, but did not call out for help. She would later contemplate and regret her inaction…And the Indian wondered why the girl he had been furtively watching for two days didn’t utter a sound.
Assailed by this perilous situation and perplexed by the brave’s distracting effect upon her, she attempted to conceal her apprehension and inexplicable enchantment by kneeling down to roll Jake’s limp body away from her feet and legs. If the opportunity to escape presented itself, she wanted to be ready to flee. A rip in her paisley dress ensnared itself upon one of the shiny brass buttons on Jake’s navy blue shirt. Unnerved, she anxiously yanked upon her full skirt to free herself, not wanting to touch Jake’s bloody body again. The stubborn fabric refused to yield, trapping her there upon her shaky knees.
As she reached out a quivering hand to untangle her torn dress, a bronze one pushed hers away to perform the task. Then the brave nonchalantly removed the crimson-stained tomahawk with its decorative feathers wavering in the breeze from the back of the man who had been about to brutally ravish her. She fearfully waited for the bloody weapon to also end her life; it did not. Instead, the deadly weapon was indifferently wiped clean upon its victim’s shirt and returned to its owner’s sheath. They both stood up.
Her puzzled gaze came up to study this copper-skinned creature with bold onyx eyes, compelling features, and a sleek midnight mane. He was so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her face. His oblique gaze drilled into hers, mystifying Rebecca. Unknown emotions washed over her. She froze in curiosity and indecision. Her amber eyes scanned his striking face and upper torso once more. For some reason, she did not feel frightened or endangered.
Who was this god-like man, and why was he here? Why had he killed Captain Selby, then obviously spared her life? Why was he captivating her wayward senses in this manner? What was the magical light which glowed within his dark gaze? What should she do or say? her spinning mind asked.
Her answers came almost instantly. Shrieks of surprise, screams of pain, terrified shouts of alarm, and ominous gunfire reached them. Her head jerked toward the direction to camp. Her face went ashen; her brown eyes grew wide and luminous. She visibly shuddered. No one needed to explain what was happening over there.
The wintry tone of another Indian brave asserted his dauntless claim on the vulnerable white girl to the appealing warrior who was before her, “Ska winyan de mitawa!”
Both Rebecca and Bright Arrow hastily turned to confront this new hazard. There was insufficient time to make any assessments about this Indian’s intentions or about her precarious position between them. The second brave surged forward and seized her wrist in a cruel grip, snatching her to him and painfully crushing her against his sweaty body which was as immovable and as sturdy as a massive oak tree.
Thoughts of her own survival and safety blotted out the pandemonium from camp. A cry of intermingled pain and terror was torn from her dry lips at the new brave’s savage treatment. A chilling aura of enmity and aggression exuded from him. In panic, her free arm reached out to the first brave and her entreating expression pleaded for his assistance, and she tremulously cried out, “Help me!” She didn’t know why she begged him to come to her aid, unless she unconsciously sensed a greater strength in him and an irresistible attraction to him.
Her cries and pleas were unnecessary, for Bright Arrow had previously determined to have Rebecca for himself. There was a deadly, deceptive calm to his puissant mien when he faced his antagonist, drawing himself up to his towering height of well over six feet, and assuming an arrogant stance of vivid challenge and portentous warning. He forcefully vowed, “Hiya! Akicita Itancan!” He lightly pounded upon his firm chest as he declared that he was the chosen band leader for this raid, denying Standing Bear’s brash claim upon Rebecca. “Ska wincinyanna de mitawa,” he confidently announced his prior claim upon the startled girl. Bright Arrow held out his hand to the girl, mutely beckoning her to come to his side.
She instantly reached out to accept his terse command, but was brutally thrown to the hard ground behind the opposing warrior. Bright Arrow gingerly withheld a sudden furious outburst in defense of her. The two braves glowered at each other, each waiting for the other to make the first move in this duel of wills. In rising alarm, she watched as they simultaneously lunged at each other to begin a fierce battle for her possession. Suddenly aware of her freedom and their busy contest, she leaped up and ran toward camp, oblivious to the danger there.
Bright Arrow shouted a warning to her, but she did not understand his language. He then issued one to Standing Bear, for he knew she might be slain or captured by another warrior, creating more dispute over her eventual ownership. The struggle for her instantly halted as both men hastily pursued the fleeing girl. As she reached the outskirts of the large clearing, she stopped so quickly at the appalling sight which greeted her numbed senses that she nearly toppled over. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle a scream. Fear such as she had never known before stormed the very core of her being.
Tom Dinkle and Bill Raines were battling two warriors in hand-to-hand combat and were certain to lose. Jamie O’Hara, her traitorous kinsman, was lying dead in a pool of scarlet liquid which was greedily absorbed by the dry earth. The Shosshoni scout Two Feathers was desperately attempting to withdraw a bluefeathered arrow from his left arm before he was assailed ag
ain. Two of the wagons were smoking, while others were already being plundered; the outcome of the raid was a foregone conclusion.
A woman’s scream of terror and anguish rent the still air like a clap of thunder. Bill Raines, a private in the cavalry, suddenly noticed Rebecca’s presence and frozen expression when the warrior he had been battling was slain by Two Feathers. He shouted at Tom Dinkle to shoot her, not to spare her from multiple ravishments, but to selfishly deny these Indian braves what he himself could never enjoy…
“Shoot ‘er, Tom! If we can’t have ‘er, I’ll be hogswaggled if they will! She ain’t gonna pleasure them after refusing us!”
When Bill attacked the warrior who was claiming the upper hand with his friend, Tom whirled and aimed directly at her heart. Paralyzed by fear and disbelief, she mutely stared at him. Tom squeezed the trigger just as a lethal arrow imbedded itself between his eyes. He fell backwards, dead.
Burning pain seared Rebecca’s bosom as a stunning impact struck her. The air rushed from her lungs, her vision blackened; then, merciful nothingness imprisoned her.
Bright Arrow anxiously looked down into the colorless face of the lovely creature whose life he had just saved for the second time in one day. Just after he had thrown himself into her chest to knock her down, Tom’s bullet whizzed over them, barely missing its target. He studied her intently, trying to reason out her inexplicable and overwhelming appeal to him.
Was it her beauty, her compelling aura, or something else which had constantly pulled his attention to her for the past two days while he had been tracking this wagon train of Bluecoats and supplies? Was it the defiantly proud way she had behaved to the other whites or the harsh manner in which they had treated her? What was this new and strange emotion which coerced him to desire her beyond all reason? He did not know.
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