Heat of a Savage Moon--The Moon Trilogy--Book Two

by Jane Bonander

  Rachel hung on for dear life. Completely unfamiliar with the correct way to straddle a horse, she found her buttocks smacking the horse’s rump with every step. She gritted her teeth, knowing with certainty that she was going to be very sore in the morning.

  Once they were into the foothills on the road to the reservation, Nell nudged her mount off onto a narrow side road.

  Alarm shot through Rachel. “Why are you taking this road?”

  “It’s a shortcut,” Nell answered, tossing the words over her shoulder.

  The foliage was dense and dark and tree branches hung over the path, like the tentacles of some stark, ghostly monster. A strange sensation prickled the hairs on the back of Rachel’s neck. “I’d rather stick to the main road, Nell.”

  “This one will get us there much quicker. Quit worrying. God,” she said with a disgusted sigh. “You’re such a worrywort.”

  Yes, Rachel thought, she probably was. Still, she had the most uncomfortable feeling…

  They rode to a small opening where a tiny ramshackle old miner’s cabin squatted beneath the trees. There was a horse tied up at the post on the porch.

  “Nell, what are we doing here? Whose place is this?”

  Her question was answered when the door opened and Bram Justice stepped outside. Everything she’d learned about him registered clearly, coldly. A feeling, hollow and chill, spread through her stomach and her chest.

  “Well, Mrs. Weber. How nice of you to come,” he drawled.

  He sounded as though he’d been expecting her for tea. Rachel wasn’t sure if he was just extremely well composed, or completely crazy. She was afraid he was the latter.

  Nell dismounted and tied the reins to the hitching post, her eyes purposely avoiding Rachel.

  Rachel covertly took in the thick woods around her, wondering what her chances would be if she ran. As she slid off the horse’s rump, she glanced at Bram and noticed the pistol he had tucked into the waistband of his pants. Considering that he’d already tried to kill her at least twice, she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to use it now.

  “Please,” he said politely. “Come in. Come in.”

  Knowing what he was capable of, and believing he’d ordered the deaths of Jeremy and Harry, Rachel decided her wisest move would be acquiescence—at least for now. Although her knees felt as if they wouldn’t hold her, she walked sedately into the cabin.

  The interior, so similar to the cabin where she’d almost died, filled her with panic. She took several deep breaths to calm herself.

  “I’ll take my money now.” Nell stood at the door, her arms crossed over her chest.

  Bram gave her a condescending smile. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

  A variety of emotions played over Nell’s face. “What do you mean? I did what you asked; I delivered her to your door. You promised me the money, and I need it.”

  Bram pulled out his pistol and waved her inside. “I never give savages money. They don’t know its value.”

  Nell scowled, but kept her mouth shut. Inching past him, she gave the dark, dank cabin interior a frantic look.

  Bram closed the door, picked up a length of rope off the table, and turned to Rachel. “Tie up the squaw,” he ordered, handing her the rope. “Squaw, sit down. There,” he said, pointing to one of two chairs in the room.

  Rachel’s hands were cold and sweaty and she still felt sick to her stomach. “Why do you need both of us? Why not just let Nell go?”

  “Tie her up!”

  Swallowing hard, Rachel gave Nell an apologetic glance before she pulled the woman’s hands behind her back and tied them together.

  “What are you going to do with us?”

  Rachel could tell Nell was frightened, but she put on a brave front.

  Bram smiled. “Why don’t you tell her, Mrs. Weber?”

  Rachel decided not to correct him regarding her current wedded status. She didn’t want to bring Jason’s name into this. She tied Nell’s hands as tightly as she dared, then tied her ankles together. “What makes you think I know?”

  He moved quickly toward her and plucked out the money pouch from her pocket. “This is why I think you know.”

  Rachel’s stomach plummeted and she broke out into a cold sweat. “The money is mine, Mr. Justice.”

  “Now it’s mine,” he said silkily, shoving the pouch into his pocket. “You can’t imagine how startled I was to see you with that money, Mrs. Weber. Oh, I recognized the damp, curled bills immediately. Please,” he added, “tell the squaw why I can’t let either of you go.”

  Rachel swallowed again. “Because… because he’s responsible for killing my husband and the schoolmaster, Nell.”

  “What!”

  Justice motioned Rachel to the other chair. Her legs already stiff and sore from her ride, she crossed to the chair next to Nell and sat down. She winced several times as Bram pulled the rope tightly around her wrists and ankles.

  “You’re quite clever, Mrs. Weber.” He stood and studied both of them.

  Rachel stared back. “What I don’t understand, is… why?”

  “It’s too bad you won’t live long enough to have a child of your own, Mrs. Weber. Then, you’d understand.”

  “This has something to do with Karleen?”

  His face came close to hers, and his eyes were black with hate. “She was perfection. She was completely unspoiled, exactly like her mother had been. I had every intention of keeping her that way until a man of my choice came along.”

  Rachel threw caution to the wind. “But… but if she and my husband were in love—”

  “Love?” He swore, a hard, violent epithet that wasn’t softened by his Southern drawl. “That bastard slept with every woman in Tess’s stable.”

  Rachel remembered the conversation she’d overheard. “But I thought… Karleen said—”

  “She was thinking with her crotch,” he spewed. “And he came here diseased. He gave her crabs, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Crabs?” Rachel asked innocently.

  “Lice, you foolish woman. He had lice thriving off his filthy pubic hair!”

  The contents of Rachel’s stomach rose to meet her throat, and she swallowed violently. Her nausea wouldn’t be appeased and she continued to shudder.

  “But that doesn’t explain why that little fornicator, Harry Ritter, was killed and so beautifully maimed,” Nell said, breaking her silence.

  Justice suddenly smiled. “Mr. Holliday and his cronies were ingenious enough to do the maiming without being asked.” He expelled a deep sigh and stared at Rachel. “I rather wish they’d castrated your husband, too. But,” he added, spreading his hands before him, “dead is dead. And I didn’t even have to leave my poker game to get it done.”

  Rachel glanced at Nell, who gave her a sorrowful look and mouthed, “I’m sorry.” She gave her a wan smile.

  He paced in front of them. “None of this would be necessary if I hadn’t missed the first time, Mrs. Weber.”

  Rachel’s heart fluttered nervously. “The first time?”

  “Yes,” he answered, nudging his chin with the muzzle of his gun. “Poor old Tully got the worst of that one.”

  “That was you?” Rachel couldn’t hide her shock.

  “I’m afraid I’m not a very good shot when it’s dark. But,” he added, shrugging expansively, “no harm done.”

  Rachel lowered her gaze so he wouldn’t see her revulsion.

  “I hear they found little Willy.”

  Rachel’s head shot up, and she met his smug gaze.

  “Yes,” he said with a malevolent grin. “I thought so. I’d heard a rumor that he’d been found.”

  “You wouldn’t harm a child, would you?” she asked, hoping to penetrate his insane fog.

  “Ah, Willy.” He made a grim face. “I’m not a monster, you know, but…” He gave her a dramatic sigh. “Loose ends will not be tolerated.”

  Rachel closed her eyes. She knew that
the most dangerous animal in the jungle was the one you couldn’t see and didn’t expect to attack until it was too late to protect yourself. Bram Justice was clearly that animal.

  “But, why? He can’t talk. He can’t even read or write.”

  “You know, you may be right,” he said, tapping his gun muzzle against his lips. “But I just can’t take the chance. Of course,” he added, “I fully expected you to die in the cabin fire, Mrs. Weber. I’d been planning that for so long, I hadn’t taken into consideration the dampness of the weather. With you burned up in the cabin and the boy dead, there would be no witnesses. Then,” he said, expelling a little laugh, “the boy ran away before I could get my hands on him.”

  Frustration continued to eat at Rachel. “But I don’t understand why you wanted me dead. I didn’t see or hear anything that morning. I was too frightened. All I knew was that Indians had killed my husband. If they spoke, I didn’t listen. And if I’d listened, I wouldn’t have understood them, anyway.”

  Justice nodded and frowned. “Yes, I see your point. But,” he said with a shrug, “what difference do two more deaths make when you’re already responsible for… so many others?”

  An uncontrollable chill shook Rachel. She wondered how many others, besides those she knew about, there were. And he was right—what difference did two more make if you’ve already killed once? Staring at the door, she willed Jason to come and save her life again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ben had seen Rachel leaving town with Nell and had followed them to the miner’s shack. He hadn’t gone far beyond that when he met Jason on the road and told him what was happening. Frustrated and angry, Jason wondered why in the hell Rachel had refused to stay put after she’d given her word that she would.

  Now, he was within shouting distance of the miner’s shack, although the heavy brush hid him from view. Two of the renegades from Ty Holliday’s band stopped at the edge of the road near him. The one called Leo had completely shaved his head, save for a hank of hair flowing down his back. The other one, Cam, had blackened his face, making him appear fierce and menacing—which he was.

  “The saloon keeper killed Ty,” Leo told Jason. “All Ty did was ask for his money, and the White killed him. We didn’t help kill the two soldiers, Two Leaf, but we know that Ty and the other two did. Now, the saloon keeper must pay for Ty’s death, and the deaths of the others.”

  Jason didn’t answer right away. There had to be a way to do this without causing any more bloodshed. “The law will take care of the saloon keeper.”

  Leo nudged his mount forward. “No,” he replied firmly. “White man’s justice is no good. They won’t punish him for killing Indians.”

  “But they will punish him for killing the soldiers. After all, he hired Ty to do it. And he attempted to kill the soldier’s woman many times. All of these things will keep him in jail, maybe even worse.” Jason watched their faces, hoping they would agree with him.

  “They might kill him?”

  Jason nodded tentatively. “They might.”

  “Then why not let us do it? I dream of it every night,” the menacing one said, thirsty for Justice’s blood.

  “Because if you do it, the white man’s marshal will come after you.” Logic. Would they see it?

  “The white man’s marshal is weak; he won’t bother to chase us.”

  Everyone saw Tully’s weaknesses. Even Tully. He’d told Jason just the day before that he’d requested a replacement. “But Marshal Tully is going to retire. And surely whoever replaces him will be young and strong. And anxious to do a good job.”

  The two rebels looked at each other. Finally, Leo asked, “How can we be sure the saloon keeper will get what he deserves? Whites are never punished for doing bad things to our people.”

  “I promise you I’ll see to it, even if I have to take him to Sacramento myself,” Jason vowed.

  “I’m not happy with this,” the menacing one groused, nosing his mount toward the cabin.

  “Wait,” Jason called softly. “Help me do it my way first.”

  “Why should we?”

  “Because Nell is in the cabin with the soldier’s woman. If the saloon keeper knows we’re coming, he might kill both of them.”

  The renegades paused. Besides being one of their own, Nell was a valuable herb doctor. “All right,” Leo answered. “We will try it your way first. But remember, Two Leaf, if your law does not punish him, we will find a way to do it ourselves.”

  Jason breathed a sigh of relief, but he knew it was only transitory. “We can’t waste any more time. This is what we’ll do,” he said, huddled with the bloodthirsty renegades.

  Suddenly the menacing one jabbed his heels into the ribs of his mount and took off toward the cabin, his earsplitting war whoop cutting through the air.

  One moment the cabin was quiet, the next, there was an explosion of sounds, the most frightening of which were the high-pitched shrieks of the black-faced Indian who kicked open the door.

  Rachel’s heart stopped and her breath caught in her throat. The savage swung a lassolike tether at Bram, intending to rope him like a calf, but Bram was quick. He turned and fired, hitting the intruding Indian in the chest. As the Indian staggered backward, Bram dove behind Rachel’s chair, pressing his forearm against her throat.

  “Easy, now, Mrs. Weber. No quick moves.”

  Briefly closing her eyes, Rachel strained back against the chair. The slightest indication of a struggle, and she knew he’d cut off her breathing. She’d had him pegged for a dandy; his athletic prowess surprised her.

  She stared at the open door. The fallen Indian lay lifeless across the threshold. Glancing carefully sideways, she saw Nell look furtively at the window beside her. Rachel followed her gaze and saw the top of a bald head pass beneath it. She quickly looked away, unsure if she should feel relief at the possibility of being rescued, or more frightened than she already was.

  Bram’s focus was on the door. “Ladies,” he said quietly, “I have no bad feelings for either of you. But I’ll kill you both before I let another savage come through that door.”

  There was a slight sound behind them. Suddenly Bram grunted, releasing his hold on Rachel.

  The Indian they’d seen at the window dragged Bram out from behind them, a lasso firmly in place around his torso and his hands already tied behind his back. Bram began cursing violently, threatening to kill them all.

  Rachel had no idea how the bald Indian had gotten into the cabin. It was as though he’d miraculously materialized inside until she glanced behind her and saw the wooden covering to the root cellar flipped over on its back. Some root cellars had outside entrances; this one must, too.

  Glancing back at the open door, Rachel went limp with relief as Jason appeared on the threshold. He bent to check the pulse of the fallen Indian, then immediately crossed to where Rachel sat, still tied to the chair.

  Without speaking to her, he untied her chafed wrists.

  Rachel was so happy to see him she nearly wept. “Thank God, thank God, thank God…” she murmured over and over again.

  He said nothing until he’d untied Nell. “I don’t think I want to know what went on here, Nell, but can I assume that you’re responsible for this?”

  Nell, usually so proud and defiant, bowed her head and nodded. “I… I thought he just wanted to kidnap her for the money. Honest, Jason, I didn’t know he meant to kill her.”

  “He’d have killed both of you.” Jason’s voice was calm, but Rachel could see the tension building in his body.

  “Two Leaf.” The bald savage held a knife to Bram’s throat and nodded toward his fallen friend. “He killed Cam. I must kill him.”

  With her eyes on Jason, Rachel absently rubbed her irritated wrists. She could almost see the wheels churning wildly in his head.

  “I thought we’d struck a bargain,” Jason replied carefully.

  “That’s right.” Bram’s eyes were wild. �
��Don’t let him kill me. I swear to God I wasn’t going to kill the woman. I was just going to frighten her. I’d always meant to just frighten her.”

  The bald Indian took out a rag and stuffed it into Bram’s mouth, then tied a handkerchief around it to keep it in place. “White man’s words come out of his mouth like puke.”

  “He’ll be properly punished, Leo. Don’t kill him. I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve it,” Jason said, “but I don’t want anything to happen to you. If you kill him, you know you’ll have to pay.”

  Indecision flashed over the Indian’s face. “White justice doesn’t have anything to do with us.”

  “And it never will if we keep acting like savages,” Jason reasoned. “Sooner or later, like it or not, we all have to change and make a few concessions.”

  The Indian released Bram and shoved the knife back into his belt. “All right, Two Leaf, we’ll do it your way. But if this pile of donkey dung is not punished, you have my promise that I will do it myself.”

  Rachel hadn’t realized that she’d been holding her breath. She let it out in a rush and hurried to help Nell move the dead Indian outside onto the ground.

  “I’m sorry, Rachel.” Nell wouldn’t look at her, but her words seemed sincere.

  “Let’s just forget it.” There was a mingling of sadness and relief in Rachel’s heart. She was anxious to get home, in spite of the chastisement she’d receive. But it wouldn’t be the same now that she knew Jason’s reasons for marrying her.

  Bram Justice was taken to the Pine Valley jail and locked in a cell. Rachel gave her statement, and Marshal Tully whistled, astonished at what Rachel had to say. She left out nothing, implicating Bram in the deaths of the soldiers, Ty Holliday and his men, the theft of her money, and the numerous attempts on her life. Because he’d planned on killing her too, he’d told her everything—including the fact that he’d hit Tully by mistake outside the church those few months before.

  Still, Tully said he couldn’t release Buck without authorization from August Weber. That worried both Rachel and Jason, although it seemed to weigh far more heavily on Jason’s mind.