“Please, Ned, this isn’t funny. Give me my clothes.”
“Yer won’t be needing them fer a while.” Ned flung the clothing far out amongst the shrubbery.
Linnet spun about and took off at a run, stumbling over her blanket as she went. She gathered it higher, trying to wrap it about herself as she fled. She sprinted as fast as she could away from the river’s edge, low branches of the Aspen bushes stinging her face as she blundered through the undergrowth. Her heart pounded, racing painfully in her chest, and she ran until the agonising pain tore at her ribs. She had a stitch. Glancing behind her, she tripped over a tree root, falling face down in the dirt, her breath knocked painfully from her lungs.
Immediately, she felt rough hands on her, turning her over onto her back. A heavy weight landed on top of her, crushing what little air she had left in her chest. Ned was slobbering over her, his foul breath making her gag. His filthy hands mauled her, digging painfully into her most tender parts. He grunted and muttered thickly as Linnet struggled helplessly beneath him. Finally, she managed to twist her head free of his slobbering mouth. She screamed, attempting to bring her leg up to knee him in the groin. He grabbed hold of her thigh and forced her legs apart, inserting his knee between. Linnet screamed again, louder this time, and sank her teeth into his ear, hanging on with her teeth. Ned bellowed in agonised rage and pulled back, splattering Linnet’s face with his blood, then he raised his arm, ready to hit her across the face. Linnet flinched, screwing her eyes shut, tensed, ready for the blow.
When it failed to fall, she opened her eyes and stared into his face. It had contorted, twisted into a horrible grimace. Slowly, he slumped forward, falling inert on top of her. She screamed. Scrabbling frantically, she pushed at the sudden dead weight crushing her. When all at once the burden was lifted from her, she squinted up, shielding her eyes from the sun, and found she was looking into the stark and furious face of her husband. He stood, glowering down at her.
“John! Oh, darling, you saved me! Oh, thank God!” She flung her arms around her husband’s neck.
He helped his wife to her feet, disentangled her arms from his neck and, picking up the blanket, he wrapped it swiftly about her nakedness.
“Goddamn it, Linnet, what the hell are you playing at?” he yelled, grabbing hold of her, his fingers biting into her shoulders.
Linnet looked back at Ned. Trembling with shock, she realised that he was dead. A dagger protruded from the middle of his back. She pointed a shaking finger at his body. “He is dead! My God, John, you killed him!”
John shook her so hard that her teeth rattled. Her head snapped back and her hair flew forward, stinging her eyes. “Of course I killed him, you little fool! He was about to rape you!” John suddenly groaned and yanked her hard against him, coiling his arms around her tightly. “Linnet, Linnet, thank goodness I found you, darling, you are safe now, are you hurt?”
He tipped up her chin in order to study her face, which was covered in spots of blood and any number of tiny scratches. He traced a thumb across her cheek, which was smeared with leaf mould. “Linnet, you look terrible, such a mess and dang it, woman, where are your clothes?”
She gazed back at him numbly. “My clothes are by the river bank. I was bathing when Ned…” She turned to walk slowly back towards the river’s edge. John followed her.
He tenderly washed his wife’s scratches in the cool water, his emotions swinging between compassion and rage. He built a fire and brewed coffee from the small supply provided by Sarah for the men’s search.
John watched Linnet as she recounted her adventures to him, excitedly waving her hands about to express herself, just like a child. He sighed to himself; his wife had absolutely no sense of responsibility. She was utterly oblivious to the worry she had caused, yet he was bemused by her lack of consideration.
“What became of the horse you borrowed?” he asked when she had finished her tale.
Linnet’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, how dreadful of me, I had forgotten all about her! Poor Penny is tethered in a clearing over that way. Oh John, she will be so thirsty! I shall go at once to fetch her.” She leapt to her feet, agitated.
John rose. “No, you stay warm by the fire. I will go and find the horse.”
He turned to walk away then hesitated. He spun back to face her. “Do not move from this spot, Linnet. I mean it, for I have no wish to hunt for you again. Do you understand?”
She looked at him, surprised by his stern tone. “Of course.”
“I mean it, madam. If I return to find you gone, I swear I’ll take a strap to you. Now do you understand me?” He waited. When she failed to reply, he snapped, “Linnet!”
She scowled at him. “Yes, I have said that I shall remain here. Now go and fetch poor Penny, she will be thirsty!”
John strode away. He was not happy letting her out of his sight. He surmised, from her tale about the bear attack, that Penny had been a casualty, and if he was right, he didn’t want Linnet to see what was left of the poor creature. He replayed the scene he had come upon by the river. Having heard Linnet’s scream, he was now thankful that he’d been nearby to hear her. He couldn’t begin to think what would have happened if he had arrived a few minutes later than he had. When John thought about that man with his filthy paws all over his wife, he ground his teeth and wished he could kill the bastard all over again. However, he was also absolutely livid with his naive wife; she had brought all this trouble down upon herself.
He’d run out of patience with her. This time, she would learn her lesson and as her husband, he would be the one to teach it to her!
Chapter 11
When Hans rode up in the grey light of pre-dawn carrying Peter’s small body, John had thought the boy was dead. The relief he’d felt when he realised Peter was alive had been huge. He knew a broken leg was a serious injury for such a small child. Linnet had caused all this trouble, yet she still seemed to be totally oblivious of the fact. Hans told John he was going to travel straight back to the homestead with Peter. He turned his horse around and left without even acknowledging Linnet.
John found Penny, or rather, what was left of the poor creature. There was no point in him going any closer; the wolves would finish her remains. He swatted at a cloud of flies that had risen from the carcass and buzzed around him. Walking back to where he’d left Linnet, he remembered that he had still had to bury the trapper. His expression grew grim as he recalled the man astride his wife’s nude body. By God, she would have some explaining to do before he was through with her. The problem had always been that she was too damn wilful. He would have to bury the body now before they could head on back to the farm. He’d already decided that upon arrival, he needed to take Linnet in hand.
He arrived back at the small camp. The fire was burning merrily, his horse nearby, contentedly grazing on the patchy grass but of Linnet, there was no sign. Where the devil was she now? Twenty minutes he’d been gone, just twenty short minutes, and yet she’d defied him! He stood stock still, a nerve twitching in his clenched cheek.
“Linnet!” he barked. He listened hard, but there was no answering call, not a whisper. He slapped his leg, agitated. Perhaps the second trapper, what was his name… had taken her? Anxiously, John hurried towards the river looking for signs of his errant wife.
Linnet had patiently waited for John. They would need to get started on their journey as soon as he returned; she wanted to get away as soon as possible. She folded the blanket and added it to the pack on John’s saddle. She noticed the water bag was hanging limp and empty. Sighing, she decided that she would fill it, they would need water on their journey. Linnet built up the fire and set off with the leather water bag swinging by her side.
It was only when she had reached the water’s edge that she recalled John’s instruction not to leave the camp. Well, she reasoned, she hadn’t really left the camp area; she was just fetching water for their journey. She knelt and filled the bag until it was full to overflowing. As she straight
ened, she caught sight of something moving on the opposite side of the river. She shaded her eyes from the bright sunlight but, even squinting, she couldn’t tell what it was. She noticed that slightly down river, there were overhanging branches that created shade. Perhaps it would be easier to see from there. Linnet made her way along the river bank toward the trees.
Suddenly from across the water, there was a roar. Crashing sounded in the undergrowth; a man’s high-pitched scream rent the air. She froze in her tracks, staring at the place the commotion was coming from. A man burst from the foliage and flung himself into the river. Linnet gasped as she recognised Will, the second trapper. From behind him came another deafening roar, then a huge black bear crashed from the undergrowth. The bear stood up on its hind legs and its enormous shaggy arms pawed the air.
Terrified, she drew back into the deep shade of the tree. She saw Will frantically trying to swim across the fast flowing water. The bear dropped to all four paws and waded in after him. Linnet moaned in fear for the trapper, pressing her hand to her mouth to stifle the sound. The bear walked easily against the swirling current, the fast flowing waters parting on either side of the huge body, the sheer size of the beast anchoring it to the river floor. It reached out one huge paw and scooped Will up into its arms, bending its massive head and jaws toward him. Linnet fainted.
John heard the horrible noise and made his way warily toward it, watching in helpless horror as Will was attacked by the bear. There was nothing he could do to save the poor man; he was just too far away across the river. John’s concern was focused on finding Linnet but where on earth was she? He made his way along the riverside, trying to keep himself hidden from the bear, which seemed to be fully occupied with Will. John was careful all the same.
He stumbled across Linnet quite by chance, she was folded in a heap under a tree and for one devastating second, he thought she was dead. As quietly as possible, he lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the safety of the clearing and his horse. Cradling her, he found mounting difficult but, finally, he was astride the horse with Linnet secured against his chest. Ned would have to remain unburied; they had no choice but to leave now. Linnet came to, feeling groggy and nauseated. She turned her face into John’s shoulder and wept.
They stopped to rest briefly, mainly so that John’s horse could recover from carrying them both. Linnet clung to John, weeping piteously for much of the time. As darkness began to fall, John reined in and handed her down to the ground. They silently searched for wood to make a fire, and John saw to the horse’s needs. He rolled out the blankets and put water on to boil for coffee. They ate the last of the bread and cheese Sarah had packed.
Linnet, exhausted, fell asleep rolled up in a blanket within seconds of lying down. John watched his young wife sleeping. He contemplated the dark, star-lit sky. Sleep seemed a remote possibility; his stomach was knotted with a deep, burning anger at his wife’s repeated foolishness. At last he fell into a fretful sleep, punctuated by horrific nightmares, all involving Linnet facing some terrible danger from which he failed to rescue her.
Exhausted and hungry, they rode into the farm late the following day. Hans was outside the barn when he noticed the tired trio heading in; the gallant horse’s head hanging low with thirst and exhaustion. When they drew level with him, John lowered Linnet to the ground but Hans made no move to help her. He stood regarding her beneath a stern brow. Linnet was unsure of how to approach him, it was obvious that he was very upset with her. She stood still, chewing her bottom lip indecisively. John dismounted and went straight over to Hans.
“How is Peter?” he asked immediately. Hans glanced at John and reached out to take the horse’s halter. “He is much improved but it will be a while before the poor lad can walk again. I see that you found your wife.”
Linnet flushed at the tone of his voice. She spoke to him falteringly, “Hans, please understand that I did not ask Peter to follow me… I wasn’t even aware that he had done until John told me. I have had the most dreadful time...”
Hans looked incredulously at her. “You really are the most self-centred creature, Mistress Foster.” He turned to lead the horse away, muttering furiously in Dutch.
John barely glanced at Linnet. “Wait here,” he instructed curtly, striding after Hans. The two men spoke intently together for a moment. Linnet strained her ears but they spoke too quietly for her to hear what was being discussed. Finally, they both turned and looked at her. Hans slapped John on the back and walked away to stable the horse. John walked back to where Linnet stood waiting.
“What was all that about?” she asked anxiously.
“I was explaining about poor Penny,” John told her. He took hold of her arm, leading her toward the barn.
“Where are we going?” she asked in surprise. “I’m tired and I want to go to bed. Oh no, surely Hans hasn’t decreed that we sleep in the barn because of this misunderstanding?”
John didn’t reply but led her inside and pulled the doors of the building shut behind them. He dropped the wooden bar across to lock them. Linnet watched, baffled. He turned to her, his face stern and forbidding. An uneasy apprehension filled her. When he spoke, it was brusquely to the point.
“First of all, I want you to understand that I love you and to have lost you or to have seen you suffer at another man’s hands would have killed me. You have caused a huge amount of suffering these past couple of days. I wonder if you have any idea of the anguish you have put everyone through. A man and two horses are dead because of you. A small boy has come close to death. The son, I might add, of the very people who saved our lives and took us into their home!”
He stopped speaking as he turned away from her, shrugging off his coat. Linnet watched in astonishment as, next, he rolled up his shirt sleeves. When he marched to the side of the barn and lifted a long leather strap from a hook upon the wall, an anxious chill trickled down her spine. She backed away from him.
“John, what is happening?” she asked, her voice hollow and quavering. “You do know that I am truly, truly sorry about everything that has happened? You must realise that I intended no harm, especially to young Peter.”
John sighed heavily. “I am sure you are sorry in your own way, but Linnet, you have to learn to take responsibility for your actions which have consequences. You have to learn how to acquit yourself in this land. You must think before you act rashly, putting yourself and others in danger. Last, but certainly not least, you must to learn to obey me as your husband!”
She was indignant. “That is absurd. I have obeyed you! When I left here, it was to find you! How can you blame me for what other people choose to do? I didn’t ask young Peter to follow me.”
John snorted, and his words cut sharply across her outburst. “Linnet, I do not intend to stand here arguing the point with you. Tell me, what was the last thing I told you to do before I set off to look for Penny?”
He frowned as he noticed his wife trying to edge her way towards the barn door. “Linnet,” he barked, “stay where you are and answer me, madam! What did I tell you?” His voice was cold with steely resolve.
Linnet stammered, “I-I, look here, I didn’t actually intend to leave the camp. I went to fetch water for our journey! This is utterly ridiculous. You are treating me just like a child, and I insist you stop scolding—you are frightening me. I am, after all, your wife!”
“Yes, madam, you are indeed my wife, and as such, I have every right to punish you as I see fit. I fully intend you to remember that fact from this moment on!” John looped the strap double in his fist. Crooking his finger, he beckoned to her. “Come here.”
The slim line of the strap rippled in his hand, swatting nastily against the leather of his boot. Linnet blanched. “John, you cannot be serious. I do not believe you would do this, y-you cannot, I won’t let you!” she shrieked and stepped back.
He shook his head. He was tired, it had been a stressful day, and he was becoming irritated by her histrionics. “I intend spanking
you, young lady, do not be so melodramatic.”
A cold shudder ran through her as she noted the unyielding set of her husband’s face. Incredulously, she realised he meant to do just as he said. John intended to spank her with the strap. Obviously the thing was hung in the barn for that purpose. It dawned on her that Hans must have used it upon Sarah. Well, she wasn’t about to surrender her derriere that easily! She pivoted, making a dash for the barred door.
John strode grimly after her. While she struggled fruitlessly with the heavy bar, he grasped her about the waist and swung her off her feet. In vain, she kicked and bucked against him but he hauled her over to a pile of hay where he threw her down. As he stood over her, his eyes narrowed to steely slits. His face was set hard and his gaze pitiless.
“Dammit, I warned you that I would take a strap to your disobedient backside if you left the camp and you dared to defy me yet again!” he growled. “It has become a habit for you to ignore my instructions; you put yourself and others in serious danger. I won’t have it. I intend to remedy your thoughtlessness; you are about to learn that actions have consequences. Now roll over onto your stomach!”
Still having no intention of submitting to such callous treatment, she started to scramble away on all fours. John grabbed one of her legs but she fought like a wildcat and managed, by twisting her head around, to sink her teeth into his forearm. He let out a harsh bellow of pain. “Darn it! By God, you deserve this lesson and you’re getting it, my girl!”
Despite her desperate struggles, John flipped her over so that she lay face down in the hay. With a hand square in the middle of her back, he held her squirming body fast. He took delight in the sight of her bucking posterior—clothed in his own breeches no less, whereupon his rage intensified. How dare she gallivant about the country displaying her curves to any man who cared to look? Dammit, no wonder she was almost raped! He laid the strap aside and, reaching for the offending garments, he yanked them down to her knees, revealing her naked, rounded buttocks.
Her Match, Her Mate, Her Master Page 17