Apache-Colton Series

by Janis Reams Hudson

  Heart pounding, Matt moved slowly, stealthily. Now was not the time to send any animals scampering or frighten the birds into giving away his approach. The steady, hollow ring of the axe was his signal beacon as he crept forward. The ground ahead rose sharply. Matt angled to the right and discovered a narrow cut in the rock—the opening to a small box canyon. Scrub oak, cedar and juniper clung precariously to the vertical rock walls and dotted the canyon floor.

  The sun flashed briefly off something metal. In the next instant the ringing of the axe echoed, pure and sweet in the still, clear air. Matt peered through evergreen branches and steeled himself for the sight of his quarry.

  And it was him—Caleb Miller Scott.

  It was ironic, Matt thought grimly, that chopping wood was the excuse Scott had used to enter their lives, because it was going to be one of the last things the bastard ever did. He’d announced his presence with it here just as surely as he had in Tombstone, and it was going to be the death of him.

  Matt backed away from the mouth of the canyon and made his way around and up, careful not to dislodge any rocks or snap any twigs. He concealed himself along the rim of the canyon and studied the area closely. Near the highest wall, at the back, stood a crudely built shack whose door faced the canyon mouth. It was a stroke of luck that there were no windows on the side facing Matt—not that he intended to be seen anyway.

  There was no sign of Serena, except that there were two horses browsing on the sparse grass inside a brush corral. But she was down there. He could feel her presence as strongly as he felt the sun beating down and burning his back through the fabric of his shirt. She was down there.

  Matt forced himself to concentrate. He studied every inch of the steep slope before him, which led to the canyon floor, and planned each step he would take when darkness came.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Serena came awake slowly, unwilling to leave the oblivion of sleep. Her gritty eyes felt like they’d been sewn shut. To open them would surely tear out a thousand stitches.

  Her nose twitched. Meat. Roasting meat. Her mouth watered. Her stomach cramped. He was cooking again. Damn him.

  On the trail, Caleb had been perfectly content with beans and jerky. But in the week they’d been at the shack, he’d made sure fresh meat roasted in the fireplace every night. Just so she could smell it.

  How much longer could she go without food? She hadn’t been permitted anything but an occasional sip of water—just enough to keep her alive—since the night he’d tried to rape her.

  “You’ll come around,” he had said the next day. “You’ll come around when you get hungry enough. You don’t eat ‘til you give me what I want.”

  At the memory of that night, a shudder ripped through her weak limbs. He hadn’t tried anything since then. But what he had done was perhaps just as bad. He had taken her clothes and blanket and left her lying on the hard dirt floor, naked, tied by her hands to a slat in the wall. And he had not allowed her to eat so much as a bite.

  Some of her Apache ancestors had gone without food for days on end and survived. But that didn’t make it any easier on her. By her best guess, this was her fifth day without food. Her fifth day of starvation. Her fifth day to smell fresh meat roasting over the fire only a few feet away.

  Her fifth day to lie naked before his hated, hungry gaze. To look in his eyes, she could almost believe he was the one going without food. But his hunger wasn’t for food—it was for her.

  He’d said he wouldn’t try to force her again. When she was ready to cooperate, she could eat.

  Serena wasn’t sure she was strong enough for the test ahead. Could she just lie there and allow herself to starve to death? Even if he grew lax and left her untied, she doubted she had the strength to escape. But to just let herself die?

  Her only alternative—the only way to survive—was to give in. To let him use her body.

  To be held down and forcibly raped was one thing. To give in, to agree to what he wanted, even though it was still brought about by force—the threat of starvation—was something else. She might have been able to live with the former. The shame of submitting to him to fill her stomach was something she didn’t think she could survive.

  Dear God, what was she going to do? A few more days, and the choice would no longer be hers. She couldn’t last much longer without food.

  Caleb kicked the door open and sauntered in with an armload of firewood. He stacked the pieces near the fireplace and fed one to the small blaze beneath his spitted rabbit. When he stood, his gaze raked her naked form.

  Let him look. Serena was past caring.

  When he’d first taken her clothes, she’d spent all her time and most of her energy curling up into a ball to hide as much of herself from his eyes as possible. Now she didn’t bother. She didn’t have the strength for it anymore.

  Caleb threw back his head and laughed. “Hungry, little sister?” he asked with a snort.

  Yes, damn you. Yes, I’m hungry, she thought. But she kept silent. Talking took energy.

  Caleb turned and checked the meat. Deciding it was done, he pulled it off the spit and dropped it directly onto the table. No plate, no nothing. Just juicy meat on bare, dirty table.

  Serena used some of her precious store of energy to roll to her side and face the wall. It was either that, or watch him eat. Even this way, it was bad enough. He made sure she heard everything he did. He chewed with his mouth open, smacked his lips, licked his fingers, and punctuated every swallow with a loud, satisfied, “Aah!” or a grotesque belch. It was almost more than she could bear.

  She concentrated on staring through the crack in the wall. She had no idea of the time, just that it was dark out. The only light came from the small fire behind her and a lantern perched on a rickety shelf over the fireplace.

  She forced her ears to pick out night sounds and ignore Caleb’s tactics. Frogs sang somewhere close by. Water must be near. Maybe there was a pond at the head of that little creek she’d seen the day they arrived.

  Somewhere behind the shack a horse snorted. An occasional rustle in the nearby underbrush indicated small animals about at night. Rats, maybe. Or more rabbits.

  Then, into the night came another sound, one that comforted her. It was the soft coo of a mourning dove. Ooah-ooo-oo-oo. A sound of home. Serena smiled sadly. She doubted she’d ever see home again now.

  She listened for the call to repeat, or be answered by a mate. The calls always came in twos or threes. Strange time for a dove to be calling. They were usually active only during the day. Except, of course, when she was growing up. Then she’d heard them at night quite often, when Matt was teaching Pace Apache signals.

  The thought made her stiffen. She forced herself to relax and wait. The soft call was not repeated.

  For the first time in days, hope flared in her heart. That was no mourning dove out there! It was Matt or Pace. She knew it. Felt it. She searched her inner mind for some message, some sign that would tell her it was Pace. Nothing came. Then she knew. It was Matt. He’d found her. Thank God.

  If she hadn’t had her back turned to Caleb just then, she would have given everything away by the tears of joy in her eyes and the trembling smile on her lips. It took her a moment to compose herself. She had to get Caleb to untie her. She had to have her hands free in case Matt needed her help.

  She rolled slowly onto to her back and turned her head to look at Caleb. Her gaze settled involuntarily on his greasy lips as they smacked another bite of rabbit.

  Her stomach clenched.

  Only one thing would make him untie her. She looked up at the ceiling and focused on a star peering through one of the numerous holes above her. God, give me strength.

  “Caleb?” her voice came out in a soft croak. She cleared her throat and tried again, louder. “Caleb?”

  Caleb blinked at the sound of her voice. She hadn’t spoken a word in days. He let the half-eaten rabbit leg dangle from his greasy fingers. “Yeah?” he said around a mouthful of meat
.

  Serena worked her mouth to try to bring moisture to her tongue. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

  Caleb laughed and took another bite of meat. “I’ll bet you will. What kind of deal did you have in mind?”

  Her empty stomach quivered at the sound of his noisy chewing. She tried to slow the rapid beat of her heart. Matt was near. He was coming for her. She had to get free and distract Caleb so Matt could make his move.

  And what if that really is a bird out there? a voice in the back of her head asked.

  If it was a bird instead of Matt, she’d be committing herself with her next words. Her entire body trembled at the thought.

  But it was Matt. She knew it was. She just couldn’t be wrong. She licked her dry, cracked lips and forced her voice to work again. “I’ll do what you want, but—”

  “No buts, little sister. You do what I want or you don’t eat. That’s the deal.”

  Serena glanced at him, then away. “I only meant to say that I’m so weak…if I could just have something to eat, just a little bit. And my hands are numb. If you’d untie my hands and let me eat something, I’d…I’d—”

  “You’d what?”

  She glanced at him again and shivered. She read victory and lust in his narrowed gray eyes. Oh God oh God oh God. “I’d…be…grateful.”

  Caleb tossed the half-eaten rabbit leg onto the table, then sat back and folded his arms, ignoring the grease on his hands. His lips parted in a wide, knowing grin. His eyes…his eyes made her shiver.

  “How grateful?”

  Serena swallowed hard and stared at the ceiling again. Was she making a mistake? She’d heard no other sounds from outside. The frogs still sang, the horses snorted and stomped occasionally. No sound gave away the presence of a man creeping through the shadows.

  But then, Matt wouldn’t be so foolish as to give himself away. If it really was Matt.

  It is Matt. I know it is. It has to be.

  She swallowed again. “Real grateful,” she whispered, her voice shaking with uncertainty. She held her breath waiting for Caleb’s response.

  As he stood, the chair scraped across the dirt floor. Serena flinched. He walked slowly around the table—stalked, actually, like a hunter closing in on his trapped prey—and stood looming over her, his very nearness making her stomach churn. He stooped; she flinched again. Instead of grabbing her, though, he pulled a knife from his boot and straightened, his gaze locking with hers.

  Along the edge of her vision, Serena saw him toy with the blade. Her nerves stretched to the breaking point. When she thought she couldn’t take any more, he reached down and cut her wrists free.

  She lay still for a long time letting the blood carry life and pain to her stiff fingers. When she slowly brought her arms down to her sides for the first time in days, her tortured muscles screamed. She knew her arms were at her sides—she could see them. But they felt like they were still stretched above her head.

  She was so slow in sitting up that Caleb lost patience. His goal was in sight, and he was tired of waiting. He tucked the knife back inside his boot, then grabbed her roughly by both arms and hauled her to her feet. She scarcely felt his fingers digging into her half-dead flesh.

  But the sudden shift from prone to upright made the blood rush from her head. Her weakened legs refused to hold her. She stumbled against the rough planks of the wall, scraping the skin on one cheek and both palms. Despite her determination to not give Caleb the satisfaction of knowing her pain, she cried out.

  Caleb ignored her plight and jerked her toward the table, then shoved her down onto the chair. When he let go, she swayed and had to grip the edge of the table to keep from sliding to the floor. The chair was rough and hard against her bare flesh.

  “There,” he said with satisfaction, a hint of warning in his voice. “Now eat.”

  The smell of roasted rabbit rose from only inches away and assaulted her senses. Her mouth watered, even as her stomach protested the strong smell. She stared at the remains of the carcass and wondered if she’d be able to chew, much less swallow.

  “What are you waiting for?” Caleb demanded. “I said eat.”

  Serena leaned against the table and forced one trembling hand toward the greasy meat before her. Where was Matt? If that was him out there, he should have been here by now! Had she been mistaken? Could she have imagined that solitary bird call?

  If she was wrong, the mistake was going to cost her more than she was willing to pay.

  In that instant, she knew she’d rather starve than give in to Caleb Scott’s demands. She prayed fervently it wouldn’t come to that. She wasn’t eager to die, but Coltons did not knuckle under to threats. Neither did Apaches. And Serena was both.

  The meat was slippery to her stiff fingers. It took three tries to tear off a small piece. Caleb watched her every move like the vulture he was.

  She held the meat in her mouth a moment without chewing, to savor the juicy flavor. But as she swallowed and began chewing, the sliver of meat seemed to grow inside her mouth. It got bigger and bigger. Her jaws locked. Her stomach quivered, begging for more as the juice hit bottom, but the piece in her mouth just kept growing until she gagged on the sheer size of it.

  With a strangled cough, she spit the meat out onto the table, amazed to find it to be the same small sliver she’d put in her mouth only a moment ago.

  From across the table, Caleb scowled. He stepped around and stood next to her with a threatening gesture. “You eat, and eat now, or I’ll cram that meat down your throat, sister.”

  Terror shook her like a hound shakes a rat. Matt, are you here?

  When Caleb made as if to reach for her, she quickly tore off another small bite of meat. She couldn’t force herself to try the same piece again.

  This time she started chewing as soon as the meat touched her lips, and it seemed to work. She swallowed, then waited a moment to make sure it was going to stay down.

  “Could I have some water, please?”

  Talking made her throat hurt, but she wanted to keep Caleb distracted. She was almost surprised when he merely grunted and turned away. He stooped over, only three feet from where she sat, and reached for the canteen atop the small wood pile. His fingers brushed the strap. Before he could grasp it and straighten, a thunderous crash shook the entire cabin. Caleb and Serena jerked as one and faced the door.

  But the door wasn’t there. It lay in pieces on the floor, clouds of dirt billowing up from where it had landed.

  In its place stood Matt Colton.

  For one sharp instant all three of them froze.

  Serena’s heart filled with joy and love. He’d come for her! Matt had searched and found her!

  Matt’s heart filled with hate. He forced himself to keep his eyes on Caleb Miller Scott, when they wanted to settle on Serena.

  Caleb’s entire being filled with sheer terror. The man before him was a savage. He had the look of a marauding Apache, despite his blond hair. A bandanna, folded into a narrow strip, wrapped around his forehead and held his hair back from his hard, chiseled face.

  The broad, bare chest heaved like an open taunt. The bearclaw necklace told of the savage ruthlessness Caleb knew the man possessed. Buckskin pants were tucked into the tops of knee-high moccasins. The well-worn holster tied down to his thigh was empty.

  Caleb stared, mesmerized for an instant by the gaping black bore of the double-action Colt .45 that seemed a part of Matt Colton’s hand.

  Caleb tore his gaze away and looked up at Colton’s face. Death looked back at him. Slow, terrible, brown-eyed death.

  With a speed born of desperation, Caleb grabbed Serena to his chest, shielding himself from the silent menace at the door.

  Serena’s cry of alarm stilled the faint movement of Matt’s finger on the well-worn trigger. His jaws clenched and his nostrils flared. Hatred bunched in his gut. “Is that all the men in your family know how to do, hurt women? Don’t you ever fight men? Or are you too afraid?”

  Caleb
was most definitely afraid. Sheer panic registered in his eyes. Then something else flashed there. Determination. With a hint of resignation. The latter was a puzzle Matt didn’t take the time to solve. He couldn’t afford to take his eyes off his opponent for a second, even though he longed to reassure Serena with a look or a word.

  But when Caleb’s eyes widened, Matt involuntarily looked down. Serena lay slumped over Caleb’s arm. The man thrust her aside with a growl. When she hit the floor, she cried out, then scrambled on hands and knees to the wall.

  Caleb didn’t hesitate. While Colton’s eyes were on Serena, Caleb drew his Smith & Wesson. But he wasn’t fast enough to draw down on a man whose pistol was already out and aimed. Even if the man was temporarily distracted.

  Matt squeezed the trigger almost without thinking.

  Caleb’s hand exploded in pain. The gun flew from his grasp and bounced off the wall behind him. Blood sprayed his face. Fiery pain shot up his arm.

  Now it would come. Colton would kill him. Here and now. At least it would be quick. Just a bullet, probably in the chest. Maybe the head. Could be worse.

  But Matt Colton didn’t fire again.

  What kind of man was this? He had Caleb right where he wanted him, unarmed, at the end of his gun. But instead of firing, Colton holstered the pistol. Caleb stared in confusion.

  Then, with strong, sure movements, Colton worked the buckle at his waist and tossed the holster and gun behind him, out the door, and growled, “I’m going to kill you with my bare hands, you bastard.”

  Caleb’s heart thundered in his chest. His fear somehow did not lessen. This threat was just as deadly as the .45, only not as swift, not as clean.

  His right hand was growing numb. But what did it matter? He was as good as dead.

  Then something tickled the back of his mind. Some dark advantage he possessed but couldn’t remember. A forgotten ace up his sleeve. But what was it?