by Betty Bolte
He urged Icarus into a trot despite the dangerous footing along the creek. Amy needed him. No matter which woman suffered from injury, they'd need his help to return to the safety of the house. After he found his Amy, he'd never let her out of his sight again. She belonged with him, a fact she knew but resisted because he'd been such a troll. He'd make it up to her when he caught up with her. Because, hell, chasing after her all across the state proved damned tiring.
* * *
"Where are you taking us?" Amy asked Jethro as they trudged through the forest again, heading north as best she could reckon by the angle of the sun. The renegades had gathered their supplies and left the cave behind after a hurried meal. Samantha limped along beside her, bravely struggling to keep up.
Jethro jabbed Amy in the ribs, making her cry out. "Shut up, wench."
Bracing for the inevitable, she glared at him. "I have a right to know."
"Nope." With a smirk, he hit her with the back of his hand, knocking her sideways. "Women ain't got no rights except to be quiet, unless I tells you to speak."
Amy staggered, her jaw an explosion of pain. Catching her balance, she glared at him.
The men walked on, ignoring the drama unfolding behind them.
"We're free women, not slaves." Samantha halted beside Amy, her back bowed from pain.
Jethro grunted. "You's my slave now." He jabbed Samantha with his rifle, shoving her forward. "Now move."
"We'll be missed." Amy forced the words out through a haze of pain. She refused to give up no matter what he did. "They'll find us."
Jethro smacked her again with his open hand, knocking her to the ground. She tasted dirt, blood and leaves, and spat. Jethro stood over her, leering. "When they do, there won't be nothing left of ya worth finding if you don't mind me."
Gasping from the pain ricocheting through her head, Amy lay still. To survive this ordeal, she must pretend to be tamed, like an unruly filly her dad once broke. Unlike the horse, she would not willingly be bridled and ridden. The horrific image of Jethro or Peter on top of her, her skirts up around her throat, hardened her resolve to survive. Never would she be forced to submit to such abuse.
"Up with ya, wench." Jethro hauled her to her feet and pushed her along the path. "If you have folks searching for ya, then we don't want to make it easy for them, now do we?"
Samantha laid a hand on Amy's arm in silent comfort. Amy looked at her and tried to tell her with her eyes that she'd not given up, just given in. Her mind scrambled to find a way to free themselves and return home. She'd hoped for a horse, but the men had none. She knew not where they headed or why the men had captured them. Questions swirled in her mind as she numbly followed the retreating backs of her captors.
Sometime later the trail took a steep turn downward. Through the leaves and trunks of the trees surrounding them, she saw the sparkle of sunlight on water. A river slowly drew closer as they made their way down the winding trail.
The other men hastened their steps as they neared the bottom. Amy slowed her pace to match Samantha's torturous steps down the steep hill. The maroon patch on her skirt glistened with fresh blood. Amy hoped the puncture wouldn't become infected and gangrenous. Samantha's medical bag lay back on the trail where she'd dropped it in her fall, so they had no way to treat the wound. Amy's stomach growled, and she put a hand to it to try to quiet it. They'd not eaten much all day, only a scrap of corn bread Jethro had given her before they set out after the noon meal.
Shouts echoed up through the trees as the men claimed the rough-hewn canoes beached along the riverbanks. Amy's pulse throbbed in her ears at the thought of the rapid travel away from all she knew and held dear via these unfamiliar waterways. Ben would never find them if they stepped into the boats and floated away. They must not be forced into them. They must escape. But how? Amy slowed her steps even more.
"Hurry up," Jethro grumbled. "They'll leave without us if'n you don't get a move on."
"She's moving as fast as she can," Amy snapped. "Go on without us if you're in such a bloody hurry."
"You'd like that." His grin held no humor. "Now move."
"You don't need us anyway." Maybe she'd finally be given a chance to talk sense into the man without being jabbed. Her sides ached from the constant abuse.
Samantha stumbled on a root, crying out as she fell to the ground. Regaining her feet slowly and painfully, she rubbed her leg and stared at Jethro. "We'll just slow down your escape."
"Why can't women keep quiet?" Jethro towered over them as he stood uphill on the trail.
"Why must men be so domineering?" Amy shot back. "We never did anything to you."
"That may be, but you could hurt our efforts now, what with your mouth flappin' all the time."
A chill eased through Amy. "You're going to kill us anyway."
"Have to so you don't blab to your gentleman friend where we've gone to." Jethro cocked the rifle, aiming it at her chest.
Amy swallowed but met his eyes. "But see, you have nothing to fear then, as I have no gentleman to tell."
"Then who gave you that expensive necklace, your pa?"
"Yes, he did." Amy kept her eyes on Jethro but sent up a silent prayer for forgiveness for her lie. "You don't need us."
"I'll decide on that." A light lit in his eyes as he nodded at Samantha. "What about you? You got a man?"
"Afraid not."
"Well then, you may as well come with us, seeing as how you don't have any men gonna miss ya. So get moving." He motioned with the barrel of the rifle down the hill. "Enough talkin'."
"But..."
"Shut it and walk." He waved the rifle barrel toward the canoes. "Most of the men are already under way, and we ain't even down there. Hurry up."
Amy mentally scrambled to find a way out. She was going to die. No matter what she did next, Jethro would eventually shoot her. Hopefully before Peter followed up on his threat. She'd rather die than have him pawing at her again. She shuddered at the memory.
She wouldn't go with them without a fight though. She caught Samantha's eye and tried to silently relay her intent with her expression—be prepared. Samantha quirked a brow in question but nodded, ready to follow Amy's lead. If Samantha hadn't been injured, she'd be leading the fight. It was up to Amy to devise an escape plan and fast. She drew a breath, then released it slowly, her mind searching for an impromptu strategy. A few more strides and she carefully stepped over a root bowing up across the path like a rainbow after a thunderstorm, and inspiration struck.
Squaring her shoulders, she took a couple more strides, a deep, steadying breath, and then rounded on Jethro. She had one chance to catch him off guard and make her move. "Bloody hell! You don't own me!" Amy stood her ground, hands on hips, praying he'd fall for her taunt, literally. "I refuse to take another step."
Surprised by the sudden affront, Jethro glared as he strode angrily toward her, his heavy steps thudding closer. Shooting him was out of the question as it would alert the others to her actions. Could she do this? She held her breath, pinning him with a challenging stare. Don't look down, she prayed silently. "In fact, you don't scare me. You're just a mean bully who's angry his side lost."
Blood infused his face, rage flashing in his eyes. "You lying witch... I'll show y—Argh!"
His foot caught on the root, tripping him and sending his massive weight toppling. When he let go of the rifle in order to catch himself, Amy snatched it up by the barrel. It was heavier than she expected, but she hefted it and swung the hardwood stock in a slashing arc, connecting with Jethro's temple. The big man crumpled in his tracks, landing beside Samantha, his sightless eyes staring at the tree tops, blood leaking from his ear.
"Is he dead?" Amy took a hesitant step forward. He lay still, not moving. If he was really dead, then she would be able to retrieve the necklace. If he wasn't, then moving closer to him put her own life on the line. She inched closer, peering at his eyes, waiting for them to see her. She tensed, ready to jump backward at the flick of an eye
lash. She had thought killing a man would be awful, but this man was so evil it didn't feel wrong. Rather, necessary. She drew closer, one step at a time.
"I don't know, but we've got to get out of here." Samantha whispered, pain lacing her words. "We should go before the others come back."
"Wait, I need a minute." Amy approached carefully, afraid he'd snare her once more. One thing for certain, she needed the necklace back if she dared reach inside his pocket. She poked him with the rifle, ready to leap back, and when he didn't react, huffed out her held breath. Quickly, before she could think too deeply on what she was about to do, she reached into his pocket and withdrew the gem and chain. She carefully slipped the necklace back on, grateful to feel the gem nestle safely between her breasts, home again.
Amy looked at Jethro's chest. "He's not breathing."
Samantha peered more closely. "Ooh, he is dead... I hate seeing dead bodies."
"When did you see any?" Surely Amy's expression revealed the deep shock she experienced at her friend's words.
"Now's not the time for that conversation," Samantha said. "We should go."
"Shhh, the others may hear," Amy hissed. "I sure don't want Peter coming back to make good on his threat."
"They'll come looking for us before long, when Jethro doesn't show." Samantha kept a wary eye on the path down the hill. "That silly necklace really made Peter's eyes gleam with greed. Like he knew something about it that we don't. What was Benjamin doing with a Scottish gem? Oh, we're in a real pickle now."
From above, the crunch of dried leaves signaled another presence on the trail. "Someone is coming. We should hide the body in the bushes. Help me!" Amy frantically hauled on the dead body, ignoring her disgust and horror with an effort. The sound of a horse's hooves clarified out of the background of rustling.
"There you are."
Amy glanced up, hands clenching into fists as she readied to fight whoever loomed above her. Then relief flooded through her as the rich chocolate voice registered. "Ben!" She rose and ran to stand beside Icarus, gazing up at Ben where he sat atop the tall stallion. He had not bothered with tying up his hair, leaving it to fall to below his collar, inviting her touch. His gaze reflected his relief in finding her. A smudge along one jawline told of his worry as he tracked her down through the woods. She smiled at him, her heart swelling with gratitude. Never had she seen such a welcome sight. "What took you so long?"
"What?" His startled laugh echoed among the trees. "No 'thank you'?"
"Never mind. Help me get this barbarian off the trail. The others may return any moment." She ran back to the dead man and grabbed at his shirt to tug him into the undergrowth.
Ben dismounted and looped the reins over a low branch before easily rolling the man into the shadows of the bushes.
"Thank God you showed up." Samantha ran a hand tentatively down her leg, rubbing the outside of it lightly. "That man was truly alarming."
"You, my dear Samantha, are quite welcome." Ben bowed politely, then turned a stern look on Amy. "However, you, my dear, have some explaining to do."
No, she did not. Amy placed her hands on her hips, prepared to stare him down. "You don't own me, either, Ben. This blasted war we just won proves that."
Annoyance flashed in his eyes. He crossed his arms and peered at her. "I didn't chase you all the way out here because I supposedly 'own' you."
"Why then?" She seethed with self-righteous indignation at his high-handed ways. Her earlier gratitude melted under the heat of her exasperation with this lovely man. The sanctimonious attitude he'd thrown at her ever since he'd returned grated on her nerves.
"Simple, my dear." He stepped close enough to force her to look up at him. "I plan to marry you."
She sucked in her breath. "Oh, that. I told you I won't." Her face warmed at the brusque claim, for had she not been pondering his kisses, his laugh, his scent? Her cheeks heated more. She really must tame her emotions where he was concerned.
"We'll discuss this further after we are all safely home. For now, let's get moving. Samantha, you'll ride Icarus. That'll be easier on you and faster for all of us." Ben turned to assist Samantha up onto the horse's back.
"If only I could poultice my leg, I'm sure I'd be fine." Samantha sat awkwardly in the saddle, gazing down at Ben and Amy.
Ben nodded and patted the saddlebag firmly tied behind where Samantha perched. "I have your bag. I found it when I followed your trail down that deucedly steep bank. You could have killed yourself venturing down such a path. What were you thinking?"
"I needed the herbs to replace my supply." Samantha grimaced, grabbing a handful of mane to steady herself as they started walking back up the trail leading away from the renegades. "I suppose it was a rather foolhardy thing to do. I guess I've learned my lesson."
"We need to move faster." Amy cast a worried look over her shoulder in the general direction of the river. Did she see Peter's hat moving behind the dense leaves? She shivered and turned forward, staring at Ben's back as he led the horse up the trail. "What if they come to find out why we didn't catch up to them?"
"Why would they?" Ben cast a quizzical glance at her. "They're on the run, not looking for skirts to chase, right?"
"Yet they captured and threatened us. If Amy hadn't killed that hulk, who knows what might have happened." Samantha shifted uncomfortably in the unfamiliar saddle. "I wouldn't put it past them to come after us, to finish what they started."
Amy hugged herself to still the quivering burgeoning inside. "Now they may want more than to ravish us. They may want revenge for Jethro's death."
Chapter 12
The shadows deepened, blurring the outlines of leaves and trunks. Bats replaced birds swooping between the trees, their wings fluttering past Amy as she walked behind Icarus. Samantha slumped in the saddle. They'd paused long enough to replace the blood-soaked shawl with a handful of spider webbing they came upon. The sticky mass of gossamer threads made short work of stopping the bleeding. But she'd lost a lot of blood despite their best efforts. Amy cried when she left the bloody garment behind, hidden under a bush, which had to have been more than two hours ago. Amy placed one foot in front of the other, trying to ignore the feeling of being watched by the animals of the forest. The walk back toward Walter's house seemed interminable.
"I'm hungry." Amy laid a hand on her stomach as it grumbled loudly.
Ben looked over his shoulder and shrugged. "We have no provisions."
"So we starve? I didn't save us from those renegades to perish from lack of food."
She stared at Samantha's leaning figure, hoping she held on and didn't fall out of the saddle. The landing would surely aggravate her condition. If she felt better, Samantha would be able to find something edible in the plants surrounding them. Amy had never needed to forage for food before, depending upon her parents' plantation, which supplied most of their needs, and the town marketplace providing the rest. Even during the fighting and siege of the town, they'd managed to have food for meals, albeit nothing as fancy as before the war.
"We'll be home in a little while, and I'm sure Emily and Belinda will have some hearty soup prepared," Ben said, though he kept his eyes forward.
"After nightfall?" Amy wasn't comfortable in the dark, true enough, but of late the darkness also hid evil from the daylight. She dreamed of a peaceful time to reign over South Carolina and the entire country once more. She missed the many dances and parties that enlivened Charles Town prior to the declaration of war. The British officers entertained frequently during the besiegement, but those parties were not ones Amy's family cared to enjoy.
"You're safe with me, sweetheart," Ben replied. "You have my vow."
Amy walked along in silence, not wanting to voice her qualms so as to not infuse them with power through her words. Ben would do all he could to uphold his promise. That didn't worry her. The bigger question remained if he was up to whatever sent chills through her.
"Good thinking to mark your trail, by the way," he sai
d. "It made following you easier."
"I needed to find my way back, too." A snapped branch hung precariously as she passed it. "It was all I could think to do."
She recognized the steep turn ahead, the cave situated behind several spreading hemlocks as a screen for the mouth. The memory of Peter's filthy kiss roiled her insides. At least she would never have to set foot inside the creepy place again. They'd walk right by and be home before suppertime. The thought of hot soup, perhaps some smoked wild turkey and baked apples, made her mouth water. Her pace quickened in response. A nice, warm bed and roaring fire would round out the evening nicely.
Suddenly Samantha lurched to the side, her head lolling on her shoulder.
"Ben! Oh God, Samantha—she's falling!"
He turned and took in the situation instantly. Halting Icarus, he caught Samantha as she slid unconscious from the saddle. Amy rushed to his side, noting the stark white face and purple shadows beneath her friend's closed eyes.
Ben held Samantha's limp body easily. He grimaced. "I guess we're stopping for the night after all. Thank goodness I see a cave ahead, so we'll make use of it as a shelter."
"That cave? You must be joking." When would she learn not to express relief, even if silently to herself? "That's the renegades' camp. I don't think you want to go in there."
"Don't be silly, Amy. Grab the reins. It's not far."
Ben had no idea, of course, what she had endured in the recesses of the cave. Still, she couldn't bear the thought of going inside.
He quickly closed the distance to the cave, Amy trailing behind, dread weighting her steps. When they stopped at the mouth of the cave, Amy held back as Ben walked inside.
"Looks like this is where those men camped. Convenient that they left it habitable." He stood, barely visible in the moonlight reaching partway inside. He walked to the rear wall and gently laid Samantha down on one of the pine straw beds. He removed his coat and folded it before placing it under her head. He laid a hand on her forehead, then patted her shoulder lightly before rising to his full height. He turned around, and seeing Amy standing at the entrance with Icarus, he crossed back to her side. Slowly he became more visible in the soft light. "Sleep will help her heal. Let's set up camp and then see what more can be done to aid her."