Once There Were Sad Songs

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Once There Were Sad Songs Page 5

by Velda Brotherton


  “How big is it?”

  “How do I know?”

  “Be quiet.”

  Her body stiffened against his. “No, I won’t be quiet. This is ludicrous. I will not hide in the woods in my nightgown with God knows what crawling all over me. With a crazy man who’d probably just as soon shoot me as look at me.” Her words boomeranged through the trees. She struggled to her feet, ready to flee.

  He came up after her. Christ, he was losing her. Might as well tell her the truth, appeal to her competitive nature, if she had one.

  He had to put down the gun to get a good grip on her. Didn’t matter, it wasn’t loaded anyway. He wasn’t taking any chances on shooting someone with friendly fire.

  “Jesus Christ, woman. Listen to me. It’s a game, just a game. Settle down.”

  “A game?”

  Before he could react to her infuriated question, she jerked away and punched him squarely in the jaw, yelled “Ouch.” The blow almost knocked him on his butt, and he shook away an attack of dizziness.

  “Don’t want to play, huh?”

  “A game?” she shouted again, louder, and wound up to take another punch at him.

  Both were on their feet, and he snaked an arm around her waist, lifted her off the ground.

  “Go out there now and one of them will get you, and I’ll let him keep you. You don’t know what Lefty can do when he’s riled. He don’t take to women. And his games aren’t Ring-Around-the-Rosey. I’m your best bet here. Got that?”

  That she might even consider his offer seemed foolhardy to him, yet she did, and that hesitation was her undoing.

  He took advantage of the moment and threw her to the ground. Sprawled on top of her. They’d made so much noise the whole county must’ve heard, so he expected Lefty at any moment. Figured Shadow had gone back to bed to avoid taking part in yet another fiendish game dreamed up by the crafty Cajun.

  Mouth buried in a hairy armpit, she attempted to struggle, but he held her trapped. She could scarcely breathe.

  Oh, God, oh, God, she prayed. How foolhardy of her to allow this to happen.

  He shifted enough to allow her to gasp in air, tainted by his sweat and her own fear. At that very moment she would have pleaded for her life, but any sound she made came out a muffled barrage of unintelligible words.

  What was he going to do to her? Had he lied just to get her out here where he could…? The idea terrified her. She squirmed and grunted and struggled.

  “Hold still, dammit.”

  She would not cry. Would not, would not. The tears came anyway, angering her almost beyond the terror that blazed through her like a runaway fire.

  Someone or something crashed through the underbrush, yelling like a banshee. Steven leaped to his feet, yelled, “Holy shit,” and, released from his armpit, she screamed as she’d never in her life screamed.

  He caught her upper arm and yanked her from the thicket and into the woods. Footsteps pounded behind them. Another howl ululated through the night.

  Brambles tore at her bare feet, but it was the fear that hurt. Slammed at her skull, threatened to explode behind her eyes and in her chest. Her brain snapped and crackled, stars shot through her vision, and she raced along beside her captor. As if the devil himself chased them.

  Teach you to sin, Mary Elizabeth. Teach you to sin, girl. Reudell talking, not the devil.

  Uncontrollable noises spewed from her mouth and nose.

  “Come on, come on. Run,” Steven shouted.

  Abruptly, the ground went out from under them and she tumbled and rolled down a steep slope. Leaves cushioned her landing and she lay there gasping, listening so hard she could feel her ears pointing.

  “You okay?” Steven asked from beside her.

  Running a hand over her face, she spat a mouthful of leaves out. “Okay?” It was all she could say. How could she be okay?

  “Be still. Listen.”

  On her hands and knees, hair hanging over her face, she did as he bade. What else could she do?

  “Hear that?” he whispered, so close to her his breath fanned over one cheek.

  The sound of running feet approached, then faded.

  “He’s—”

  Steven clapped a hand over her mouth. “Hsst. Not yet.”

  The footsteps returned, walking this time, pausing now and then, moving on. He was searching for them. This time she didn’t have to be told to be quiet, she scarcely breathed.

  This would teach her. She ought to be home with her husband, not out here in the wilderness.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  She dared not guess what might happen next, but the first chance she got she was going straight back home, and if she had to pay penance for the remainder of her days, so be it. She’d never been so frightened in her entire life.

  Long after the footsteps faded, Steven moved a bit away from her. It was too dark to see, she could only go by sounds, but she thought he relaxed. She wished she could do the same. But nothing would stop quivering.

  Dampness off the nearby lake gathered, drifted down like a faint mist. She shivered, tried to speak, failed, tried again. Finally managed.

  “It’s so cold. Let’s just give up and let them win. I want to go back to my tent.”

  “No, you don’t give up in his games. It’s okay, but we’d better stay right here. He thinks we got away.”

  “Who…who is...I mean...Who was that?”

  “Lefty.”

  “The mean one with all that hate?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And so, this truly is a game?” Her voice broke on the last word.

  If she could have found him in the dark she would have clawed, bitten, kicked, any part of his anatomy. “How could you scare me like that?”

  “I told you it was a game. Not my fault if you didn’t believe me.”

  “Didn’t believe you? He came at us like a wild animal, and you ran like he was a…” She gave up searching for the right word.

  “He is. All of that and then some.”

  “Well, I don’t care. I didn’t agree to play this game, and I don’t have to play it. I ought to brain you for this.” Shaking off leaves, she rose to her feet, decided against popping him again. Her knuckles ached from the last time. “I’m going out there.”

  He grabbed her. How he could see her, she didn’t know, but he had a firm hold, his fingers like steel bands around her arm. “Please don’t do that. Stay here.”

  Earlier she had prayed, a knee-jerk reaction from the life she’d fled. When in doubt, hand it to God and don’t make a fool of yourself attempting to achieve on your own. How futile to run from what she carried inside. She’d been imprinted like a bird fresh from the egg. Imprinted by Reudell and his pious life, so that she had nothing, was nothing, would always be nothing except what he allowed.

  Her arm throbbed under this savage being’s grip. And she wanted, desperately wanted, something. Anything.

  “Oh, dear Lord,” she said under her breath, and shivered violently. Not a prayer, not a prayer at all.

  Chapter Four

  Steven feared the monster he carried inside would awaken, for the dark of night often disturbed its slumber. At the same time he desperately needed to be with this woman, keep her from Lefty's clutches. Listen to her talk in her oh-so-prissy way that he found enticing.

  Though he couldn’t see her, he was painfully aware of her prim body language, movements he found much more sensual than those of a practiced whore. Subconsciously, she would finger the top button of whatever she wore to make sure it was fastened, but suggesting something exactly the opposite. And her way of looking at him from beneath half-lowered lashes, as if to catch him in the act of a forbidden deed. No doubt she’d developed that habit keeping an eye on her students. A heated passion had clawed its way inside him when he let down his guard in front of her. If he could, he would tear it from his gut, or get as far away from her as he could before it harmed them both. But he couldn’t leave her alone out here, especia
lly with Lefty on the prowl. Him and his damned games. And, who was he kidding? He didn’t want to leave her at all.

  Under the clutch of his fingers she shivered, made a sound like sighing or crying.

  “You’re cold. I’m sorry about being such an ass. I don’t know why I went along with it. We do such stupid things, the two of us.”

  “Take your hand off me.”

  He did, immediately, fully expecting her to give him another punch. In fact, he waited for it as if it might absolve him for treating her in such a shameful way.

  When she simply stood there, not moving enough to stir the leaves under her bare feet, he said, “We can’t go out there. I know you’re cold, but believe me—”

  ”You said it was just a game.”

  “Yes, I said that. But Lefty’s games aren’t normal.” He almost laughed at that. They had done nothing normal for a long time.

  “Where is your other friend?”

  “Shadow? Probably in the tent asleep, or listening to music. He doesn’t play games.”

  “Well, at least one of you has good sense.

  She sounded as if she had recovered somewhat.

  “Are you going to keep me here all night?”

  “Probably.”

  She was silent for a moment. Then, “It’s cold.”

  Her lack of objection spurred him to move closer. Though they weren’t touching, he felt her presence. “I’d hold you, if you want. Just to keep warm.”

  She made a small sound, scuffled away. “No, thank you.”

  “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

  “You promise? My goodness, why didn’t I think of that before? I could’ve asked you to promise to leave me alone. How foolish of me.”

  The sarcasm sounded unnatural coming from her, but she was upset. Still, he didn’t know her. That might be her weapon of choice when someone came too near.

  It angered him that she didn’t trust him, though it was unrealistic to expect her to. “Suit yourself,” he growled, settled onto the ground in a nest of leaves, and closed his eyes.

  Left on her own, she remained stiffly alert until his breathing evened out. He’d actually fallen asleep, out here in the dark in a bed of dirt and twigs, with no telling what wandering around in the woods.

  Bears, snakes, shifty little critters of all kinds. She’d never been much afraid of the dark or what might be hiding in it. In her experience, the worst evils went in the disguise of perfectly normal people and situations. Yet she did not relish lying here all alone and falling asleep so a snake could crawl under her nightgown and curl up with her. And she'd be damned if she’d snuggle up against this wild man, even though every fiber of her body urged her to do just that. It simply wasn't a sensible thing to do.

  Through the canopy of trees above, a multitude of stars twinkled, but all else was as black as the deepest cave. She held up a hand but could not see it. Useless to try to find her way back to the campsite. Even if she could get near enough to see the lights, she could fall off a precipice, maybe break an arm or leg. Worse, her neck. Lie there and die and no one would ever know what happened to her. Best if she chose to remain with Steven. Despite the childish game he’d allowed, he appeared harmless.

  Cautiously, she inched toward the sound of his breathing, twisted the nightgown around her legs, and lay down beside him, careful not to actually touch skin to skin. A soothing warmth emanated from his mostly naked body, and she scooted a bit closer. With the flat of one hand she traced the line of his body, the contact of flesh against flesh as startling as if she’d touched a live wire. As best she could make out, he lay on his side, his back to her. Carefully, she curled around him, trying not to come in contact with any of his bare parts, which was pretty much all of him.

  No man had touched her in so long. Dear Lord, the temptations of the flesh do promise ecstasy and joy to trap its victims. So muttered her husband when he had explained why they should sleep apart.

  How had she, a sensible woman, put up with such nonsense for so long? If she found the answer to that, she might be able to create a new life for herself.

  When she folded herself around him, Steven lay very still. He tried desperately to be angry at her, lash out. Push her away. Damn her for appearing out of nowhere when he had things pretty much in hand. Convinced himself nothing mattered, in this world or the next. Here she came, smiling, laughing, crying, touching. Jumping in the damned lake, for Christ’s sake. All the things he didn’t need, never wanted again.

  She sighed, relaxed into sleep, head lolling so her hair tickled him between the shoulder blades. Deep in his gut a dull aching knot loosened, fell open like petals of a flower reaching toward the warmth of the sun. The moment sweetened the bitterness in his mind and made him believe he was young and innocent once again.

  It wouldn’t last. It couldn’t. But for this instant in time he embraced the moment, so rare and beautiful it might never come his way again. Lying beside her, a crazy man, briefly cloaked in the purity of sanity. But not even this woman could offer a clean world in which he could exist.

  She jerked and let out a tiny squeak, as if something had grabbed her. After a moment, she whispered, “Are you awake?”

  He toyed with the idea of pretending to be asleep, but rejected it. “Yes.”

  “I thought so. It’s hard to sleep out here. Why do you do things like this?”

  He stiffened. A little boy, being called to task. She certainly had a teacherly way about her, and he raised a barrier against it. “Why? What do you care?”

  “What do I care? Good heavens, you drag me into this childish nonsense, I’m terrified, half frozen, and sleeping in the woods with a strange man, and you wonder why I care?”

  “Okay. You’re not hurt, are you?”

  “Well, no. I suppose it is normal for grown men to play games.”

  “Don’t be so damned condescending.”

  “Oops, sorry. It’s the schoolteacher in me.”

  “Ah. One excuse or another.”

  She ignored that. “Games. You often play them?”

  “When things get boring.”

  “Boring? You call attacking teenagers and shooting at them boring? It appears to have set you off so you had to do something even crazier.”

  She might be right, but he didn’t want to admit it. “You probably wouldn’t understand.”

  “No, I probably wouldn’t want to, either.”

  She shifted against him, and he held his breath. Not much between most of him and all of her but the flannel gown, and he was on point. Not that his lying prick would follow through, even if he wanted it to. Which he didn’t.

  Damn, what a hell of a predicament.

  “So what are the rules of this game?”

  “You don’t have to know.”

  “Of course I do. I’m in the middle of it.”

  Might as well tell her. “Well, if I can keep him from taking you from me all night, I win.”

  “Win what?”

  “I get to cut his hair.”

  “And if he wins he cuts yours?”

  “Well...”

  “He does, doesn’t he?”

  “He ain’t gonna win, so don’t you worry about it.”

  Again she wiggled.

  The ache in his groin increased, and he grimaced.

  “Obviously you’ve never lost.”

  Damn her, but she sounded amused. And he didn’t like the sound of it. Not one bit. “How do you mean?”

  “Well, you can sit on your hair, so it’s not been cut, not in a long time.”

  “No, not for a long time,” he said under his breath. “Not since the day I took off my uniform for the last time.”

  “You were in the service?”

  He didn’t reply.

  “You know, this entire thing is pretty hard to believe.”

  “No shit.”

  “You’d think a man who’d been in the army would have better things to do than bum around the country on a motorcycle. I thought th
ey were supposed to make a man out of you. Besides, you don’t have to live this way, if you’re a veteran.”

  “I don’t have to live any way, if I don’t want to. And what in the hell does one thing have to do with the other? Being a veteran guarantees nothing.”

  “Did you fight in a war?”

  “No, I fought in ’Nam.”

  “In what?”

  He drew a deep breath, not wanting to go any farther. “Vietnam.”

  “Oh. I thought that was a war.”

  “Well, you thought wrong. Look, let’s forget this shit, okay? I play stupid games because I’m immature, childish, off my rocker, whatever you like.”

  “Ummm.”

  “You sound damned pleased with yourself.”

  “Only in that I’m not afraid anymore.”

  “In that you’re not afraid anymore?” He couldn’t help mimicking her, and at the same time wondered what he’d done to make her not afraid of him. If he was her, he’d be afraid of him.

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, that’s good. I think.”

  “It’s good,” she said, moved away from him, and was gone, her departure kicking up leaves.

  “Hey, where the hell you going?”

  “See you,” she shouted, and actually laughed so loud the whole goddamned world could hear her.

  He sat there for a moment in total disbelief. What had he said? Where was she going? Why? Then he was on his feet and after her.

  ****

  While she lay conversing with Steven, light had silvered the sky in the east, giving her the chance she needed. A chunk of moon rose above the purple peaks, threw shadows through the woods that lit her way back to the dilapidated tent where the black man they called Shadow slept because he didn’t take part in their games. A sensible man, no doubt. Except that didn’t explain what he was doing with these two rowdy misfits.

  She paused outside the door for a moment to listen. Inside, a lantern glowed, and she wanted to make sure Lefty wasn’t there. She’d already come to the conclusion the man was dangerous, long before Steven told her. If this was going to work, she had to elicit Shadow’s help without Lefty finding out. She heard nothing inside and, after a moment, slipped the flap aside and peeked in.

 

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