by Reece Butler
The other man passed them, leading toward a faint trail. She realized it was the one Daniel and Ross had followed home, a path she hadn’t known existed. She had to hold on to the pommel so it wouldn’t jam into her belly. She’d never been up here and couldn’t find a way to see a trail back. The land all looked the same—sage, sand, rock, and scrub. She concentrated on holding on, protecting her baby.
After what seemed like hours, they came upon a low, sod-roofed hovel tucked into the slope. She fell to her knees when they hauled her off the horse. She bent over, praying the jolting hadn’t hurt her baby.
A cruel hand hauled her to her feet by the same arm as before.
“See. I came for ya, jist like I said. Ya didn’t listen, and now, ya’ll pay.”
He pushed her forward. She stumbled but caught herself before falling. Powderface pulled open a cage-type door. Two small windows framed it, each covered with bars. The gaps were so small she’d never fit through.
They pushed her inside. In the far corner to her right was a box bed. The lumpy mattress was covered in stains. She hoped they were black and not a rusty red. Whatever the case, she didn’t want to think about it. A rusty stove with a pot on it squatted in the middle of the dirt floor. An iron bar with a thick chain attached protruded from the floor by the stove. At the end of the chain was a shackle.
She backed toward the table. As she passed the stove, she noticed the smell of burned coffee. The stove was still warm. Cutnose picked up the pot with both hands. He lifted it to his lips and gulped. After wiping his mouth, he strutted around the bare room. A rickety table and benches sat in the corner opposite the bed. He kicked a pile of rags. Satisfied that nothing of value was in them, he turned back to her.
“Home, sweet home,” he said. He stared at her chest. She backed away as he stalked forward.
“We gotta be in town by noon.” Powderface shuffled his feet and glanced out the door. “Thath’s what he thaid.”
“I wanna see her tits.”
Cutnose grabbed both sides of her dress and yanked. Buttons flew, and fabric ripped.
“Dayam,” he breathed.
She tried to squirm away, but he grabbed her by the hair and pulled. With his arm behind her back, it pulled her into an arch. He licked her breast. She shuddered. He bit her nipple, and she screamed behind the gag. He shoved her away, and she fell to the floor.
“We’ll be back by supper,” he said to her. “Spit out that gag and scream all ya like. Nobody’s gonna hear ya.” He reached down and caressed the lump swelling in his pants. “See that bed?” She didn’t dare look away from him. “Lots a wimmen done what we wanted there. If ye’re nice, maybe we’ll let ya live.”
He laughed and followed his partner outside. He slammed the door shut, the ungreased metal shrieking. If he wasn’t worried about someone hearing that, no one would hear her scream. He held up a chain and lock. Grinning, knowing that she had no chance of escape, he wrapped it around the door and through bolts on either side. He snapped the lock shut.
Before he left, he held up the key. He licked it, as he had her skin, and slid it in his front pants pocket. He rubbed himself through his pants. She spit out the handkerchief, gagging at the stench and memory of his touch.
His laughter echoed through her mind long after it faded from the air.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Daniel waited until the men left the hut before he snuck away from his pony and approached the place they’d put Mrs. MacDougal. He’d never have found the side trail if he hadn’t followed the bad men. The ravens had helped him, flying ahead and calling. They acted as usual, swooping up and around. But Daniel knew they were friends.
“Mrs. MacDougal? It’s Daniel.”
“Daniel?”
He ran to the doorway. The woman he thought of as Ma sat with her back against the wall, her knees up and hands around her legs. The tears he’d kept back since he heard the men steal her burst out. He knew to keep quiet and watch, but it was hard. When the men were gone, he grabbed his pony and followed the ravens.
“I’ll get you out!” He pulled on the heavy chain keeping the door shut. It was too heavy for him to lift. A big raven landed on the roof. He dropped down to peck at the chain but also gave up.
“Daniel, go get help.”
“I can’t leave you here. They’re gonna come back and hurt ya real bad.”
“I’m going to escape, but I need you to get help. Get Simon and Jack if you can. Tell them one man has powder burns on his face and the other has a deep cut under his nose.”
“But I don’t want to leave you. They’ll hurt you again.”
“You are very brave, Daniel. Do you trust me to be just as brave?”
Though the room was dim, he could see her trying to smile at him. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I need your help to get my hands free. Turn your back.”
He did as she told him. He heard rustling sounds come closer.
“You can look now. Reach into my side pocket and get my knife out of my skirt.”
She’d flipped her apron up to cover her front. She held it there with her chin. He quickly dropped his eyes and reached into her pocket. He pulled out a folding knife and opened it. She held her hands out. He sawed through the rawhide carefully, not wanting to cut her.
“Thank you. Keep the knife in case you need it. And take this.”
She held out a fancy ladies’ handkerchief.
“My sister made this lace, but it’s not her initials. It has an R and a B. It might tell us who those men are. Give it to Mr. Simon. Ride fast, Daniel.”
“Where will you be?”
“After I escape, I’ll start for home.”
He looked at the barred windows, the heavily barred door.
“How you gonna get out?”
She crossed her arms, her hands holding her apron up. Though she stood straight, he saw her shake. “I’m going to burn this place down. They’re not ever going to put another woman in here.”
“But you could get hurt—”
“Daniel, if I’m here when those men come back, they will hurt me. I’d rather die escaping than by their dirty hands. Now, ride!”
“Yes, ma’am!”
He ran to his pony, his heart pounding harder than it had when he snuck after the men.
“I’ll save you, Ma!”
* * * *
Rusty flakes scraped Amelia’s face as she leaned against the bars. She craned her neck to watch Daniel race away on his pony. The big raven landed on the ground in front of the door. He stalked forward and poked his head between the bars. He looked up at her and crooned.
“I don’t know what you can do, Master Raven, but I’ll take whatever I can get.”
He blinked a few times at her. Dust swirled when he flapped into flight. He soared down the hill, away from Daniel and home. Following her captors.
Amelia looked at the stove for a moment. She squared her shoulders and stalked toward it. She could cry in the corner until the men returned to rape and murder her, or she could face her fears and escape. She could also die in the fire she created, but at least it would be by her own hand, unsullied.
She rested her hand on her belly. The choice wasn’t hard at all. She did not prefer death to rape, but those men would never let her live to identify them. She survived one fire that burned and scarred and would do the same this time.
She might finally prove to Ross that she was not a useless city woman. She wasn’t yet a good Montana Territory wife. She couldn’t do most of the things Auntie and Tillie did so easily. Escaping without help would prove to Ross that she belonged here. Perhaps he would then let go of whatever made him lash out at the world before it attacked him.
Trace was proud of Beth fighting off three men, even killing a couple of them. Beth said that was when Trace realized how much he loved her. Sometimes, she thought Ross might love her, but then he’d remember he was mad at the world. He’d frown and stomp away.
Even if Ross didn’t love he
r, after this she could hold her head high as a proud MacDougal, able to take care of herself.
She took her big knife from her thigh and cut a strip off the bottom of her skirt. She wrapped that around her chest to hold the apron in place. Right away, she felt more in control.
She wrapped her hand in her skirts and opened the stove. She blew lightly, discovering a red glow. She placed a few dried leaves that had blown into the corner on the spot and blew once more. As the fire grew, she added twigs, chips of wood, and anything else that would burn.
She used her knife to slice open the mattress at the cleanest spot she could find. She sneezed as the dry, dusty straw fell out. She took a corner and dragged the mattress over to the stove. She carefully placed a couple of handfuls of the stuffing so it would catch and burn without snuffing out the fire.
She climbed on the box bed and looked up. Animals had dug into the far corner where the roof leaned into the hill. Cracks of light filtered between the sod pieces placed on top of the sapling poles running along the roof. She stabbed the ceiling with her knife between the poles. It sunk in fairly easily. She reached high on her toes, grabbed a pole, and shook. Dust, bugs, and things she did not want to think about fell over her head and shoulders. She shuddered and shook off as much as possible.
When the dust cleared, there was more light shining through. The poles were laid in a crosshatch pattern. The squares were too small for her to force her way through. She would have to burn some of the poles enough to break them. Only then could she escape.
She had to get the lower corner burning well. As the fire burned toward the highest part, it would burn a hole big enough for her to climb through. She had to make sure the fire didn’t grow so big that the flames and smoke stopped her from escaping.
Amelia closed her mind to everything but her task. She didn’t know how much time passed, only that her muscles ached. She ignored the things that fell on her, shaking off the biggest chunks as best as possible. Though her apron protected her somewhat, her urgent attacks with the knife rubbed her skin against the old log wall. Splinters, sticks and straw poked her tender flesh.
How long would it take for Daniel to ride that pony home then all the way down the valley and up the other side to the Elliott homestead? What if Simon or Jack were so far away that Daniel couldn’t find them?
No! Those were the worries of a coward. Gasping and choking, she worked on. In her mind, she spoke with her baby, telling him how much she loved him.
Finally, there was a hole big enough that she could set the roof on fire. She cut a slice of mattress cover and laid it on the floor. She placed a stout stick in the middle. She sifted dry straw thickly over the stick and rolled the fabric up. She tied her torch closed with strips of mattress cotton. She opened the stove and stuck one end in. The straw and cotton quickly caught fire, but she held it there for a moment longer to make sure.
She carried it carefully so it didn’t hit the ceiling until she climbed on the bed. When the flames touched the dry roof, the fire immediately caught. Terrible crackling noises and heat brought her nightmares to life. She pushed them back, desperate to live.
White smoke billowed through the hold, a signal to both her captors and rescuers. If, that was, they saw it. Though bits of burning straw and twigs fell on her, she held the stick aloft until she knew the roof would keep burning. She coughed as the smoke swirled into her face.
When it got too hot, she jumped down and backed into the far corner to watch. She removed her petticoat and folded it. She’d use it as a barrier for her hands. She startled when a corner of the roof collapsed into the room. Part of it fell on the bed. If it burned the bed, she could never reach the roof.
She had to get out, now!
She gathered the back of her skirt, pulled it through her legs, and tucked it into her waist. With one hand on the hillside wall, she hurried to the bed. She climbed up, the fire dancing at her feet. If she hadn’t tucked up her cotton skirts, they would have caught as quickly as the mattress cover.
Using her petticoat as a thin shield for her hands, she grabbed a thick pole above her head. It still smoldered, too thick to burn as quickly as the grass. The pole had held thinner ones, now burned away to make space for her body.
Her eyes stung from the smoke. Her muscles screamed as she pulled her weight up. She scrabbled with her feet against the log wall. The curved logs provided a tiny ledge for her boot toes to catch. Heat from the pole burned through her petticoat as she hauled herself up and over. She landed on the rocky hill and rolled away from the crackling fire.
She lay there, gasping and choking, until her eyes and lungs cleared enough to keep moving. She wrapped her hands in her petticoat and staggered after Daniel.
She could barely see through tears from smoke and relief. Branches slashed her face. She stumbled over rocks, not caring where she went as long as it was away. She stepped in a hole and cried out as she fell, her ankle twisting under her.
“Amelia!”
“My God, look at the flames! She can’t be alive in that!”
Horses rushed past, not twenty feet away
“Help!” She tried to scream but only croaked a gasp. A dark shape flew close. It squawked and raced after the men.
“What the hell? Stop it!”
“Follow the bird, Jack.”
She called out again but only coughed. The bird swooped down and landed in front of her. It cawed loudly, shaking its huge wings. Hooves followed.
“Christ! It’s her!”
She couldn’t see who leaped off the horse and ran toward her. Tears erupted, and she started shaking.
“It’s Simon, Amelia. You’re safe now.” He knelt close to her, speaking softly. He pulled his shirt over his head and held it out.
“Simon?” She croaked the word then coughed again.
“She okay?” Another man ran over.
“No, shithead, she’s not all right! She’s cut and burned, and I don’t know what else, but she’s alive. I’m taking her home, so shut your face and follow that bird!”
Amelia wiped the tears out of her eyes. “I’m okay,” she whispered.
She tried to imitate Simon’s smile. Jack stood still, mouth open, staring at Simon.
“Well, hallelujah. The man does have a temper. Is that because Beth’s making you a daddy?”
“Beth’s going to have another baby?” More tears flowed at the good news. She wiped them away with the back of her hand.
“Shut up, Jackass.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Elliott. Of course, Mr. Elliott.” Jack gave an irreverent salute and took a step. He turned around and winked at Amelia. “Nice outfit, ma’am.”
Simon sighed. He shook out his shirt. “Let me get this on you. Don’t want to add a sunburn to all those scrapes and bruises. Close your eyes.”
He spoke soothingly as he unwrapped her hands. He slipped his large shirt over her head. He carefully guided her sore hands through the sleeves and lifted her hair over the collar. He wrapped up her hands again. He went behind her and placed his hands around her waist. He lifted her to her feet. She cried out as her ankle gave way. He swept her into his arms.
“We’ll get you home as fast as we safely can, but it might hurt a bit.”
“I know,” she said. She gritted her teeth and smiled up at him. “But I escaped. And I’m alive.”
“That you are. And I’m damn proud of you. Ross will be, too.”
“Jack, hold her until I mount up.”
“Hunh. Now that she’s all covered up, you let me help play rescuer.”
His words didn’t match his actions as he gently took her from Simon. She’d never been this close to Jack. To keep away the pain, she concentrated on his smiling brown eyes.
“How ya doin’ in there, Mort? You’ve got a ma who’ll kill to protect you, just like James.”
“Hand her up, Jack.”
Simon gestured with his hand. Jack shook his head though he walked toward the horse.
“You think t
he Raven will ever let me get this close to his pretty wife again? I want as much of her as I can get.”
Simon leaned over as Jack lifted her up. Simon settled her across his lap. He leaned close and whispered in her ear.
“Don’t mind him. He acts like a jackass, but I thought he’d kill himself on the way here, pushing that horse to damn near fly.”
“I’m watching you, Sy,” called Jack over his shoulder. He caught his horse and mounted up. “You kiss that pretty lady, and I’m telling Raven.”
Amelia had to smile at the way the two Elliotts treated each other. Though they poked, they cared about each other, just like Gillis, Ross, and Nevin. Her baby would have lots of brothers and sisters and cousins across the valley. He wouldn’t be left alone in the world.
“We can ride slowly, so you don’t get jarred, but it will take longer. Or we can go quicker, but the pain will be over sooner. Your choice,” said Simon.
“I want to go home,” she said, her voice quavering.
Simon pressed her head against his chest. He wrapped his reins loosely around the saddle horn and held onto her with both arms.
“Home, it is,” he murmured.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Ross erupted at the scream of a raven. His chair crashed to the floor when he jumped to his feet. The scream came closer. Nevin and Gillis rose as well, followed by Trace.
“What the devil’s going on?” groused Smythe. He scrambled backward when the huge, black bird landed on the windowsill. It stuck its head inside and screeched the alarm once more.
Hugh Jennett pulled his gun. Ross had a knife at his neck before he could cock the pistol.
“Shoot that bird and you die.”
The banker let Ross take the pistol from his hand though his eyes promised revenge. The raven gave the same look back. “I hate those damn creatures from hell.”
“I say, what’s all this about?” Smythe had his back pressed firm against the far wall.
“That savage always has those damn birds around him,” complained the banker. “They should all be shot!”