Arriving at its banks, she set up her work. A carpet of buttercups in front of the tall grasses across the water was more vivid now, and she checked her paints to make sure she’d included the right colors. The variety of greens in the landscape, the blue of the sky, the wildflowers in the distance—she wanted to capture all of it.
Boones explored the area, sniffing and snorting at all the delightful odors as Jessica hummed a little tune. She assembled her palette and filled a small jar with river water. Finally, she hiked up her skirt and crossed her legs beneath her. She placed her sketch pad on her lap, pencil at the ready. Looking up at the clear, blue sky, she took in a deep breath of the delicious air. The walk had made her warm, and she was glad for the river. “Aaahh,” she sighed. Boones turned his attentions to his mistress and leapt happily to her. “Careful, Boones, watch it. Go away, go away!” she gestured to him, affectionately. He went off sniffing again, his tail wagging behind him.
Falling easily into her creative rhythm, she was lost in the colors and sounds around her. The petals of the wildflowers seemed to turn in her direction, allowing themselves to be mimicked on the paper. The grasses sang a shushing song as the warm breezes made them dance. The water dominated the air with its full and steady current, gliding past her as the wild birds sang from so many perches and the ducks quacked and chortled.
As she was about to start the pencil drawing, she sensed she was being watched. Turning to look up at the knoll, she smiled, expecting Caleb to be standing there. When he wasn’t, she dismissed the feeling as simply herself becoming one with her surroundings while the birds and wildlife busily went about their lives. Returning to her picture, she sketched the basic scene, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was near. When Boones barked wildly in the direction of the dense wilderness, she sprang to her feet, her heart pounding. She tried to look everywhere at once, searching for signs of danger. Nothing had changed. The birds continued to sing, and the breeze of the wind blew lightly through the trees and grasses. Caleb said he’d be along shortly. Placing her fists on her hips, she decided she might be overreacting. Boones was always barking at the birds and squirrels. She turned to the knoll and wished Caleb would instantly appear. Boones was still barking, and his fur was ruffled on his back.
“Hush, Boones!” Her heart beat faster. “My goodness! What is it?” Remembering Caleb’s warning about the bears and cougars, she decided to collect her things and return to the house. As she bent down to retrieve her paints, Boones hunched down and bared his teeth, growling at something behind her.
Chapter Twenty-six
A heavy weight encircled her waist, knocking the wind out of her. A muscular, dark arm pulled her off her feet. A stirrup grazed her legs as her body was lifted away from the ground. Pounding her fists against the hard muscle, she struggled to get loose. The steely grip made it impossible, and suddenly, she was flung atop a huge, black horse. As she tried to turn to see her assailant, her body was thrust against his. Surely, Boones’ barking would alert Caleb. With a sharp pull on the reins, the horse was turned toward the wooded land and dread consumed her.
“No!” she cried. “Boones, get Caleb! Help!” The river was on her left, the knoll on her right, the forest ahead. Then, all at once, they took flight. The dog’s barking receded into the distance. Trees surrounded her and the sunlight diminished. She was being pulled into a nightmare.
The horseman turned the large beast one way and then another through the dense forest that Jessica no longer recognized. Her rib cage burned with pain as he held on to her body, encasing her arms. Her legs dangled helplessly. At each turn, long, straight, black lengths of hair whipped around her. The pressure of his arm cut off her breathing, making it impossible to yell for help. His chest slammed against her again and again as he hurled them through the many trees and low-hanging branches. It was like a brick wall, practically knocking her off the horse. She tried to grab the base of the horse’s mane. It, too, lashed at her face, but she was able to grasp a handful of the coarse, black hair. The world swirled around her, greens and browns, light then shade. A thin branch wiped her forehead. The blood ran down her face like a warm finger.
Her captor continued to maneuver through the underbrush of the towering firs and cedars. A loosening of his grip, and she finally caught her breath. She screamed for help, her body shaking from the inside out. His arm tightened again, silencing her. Feeling as if her head would explode, she tried to fall from the horse. Once on the ground, she could run home. It was no use. His strength overpowered her. Deeper and deeper into the thick forest they rode, the horseman relentless. He took his arm from around her and concentrated both hands on the reins. This was her chance. She prepared herself for the rough landing. The ground blurred beneath her, and as the horse lurched to clear a fallen branch, she found herself holding on for dear life. Fear was in control. It felt like an eternity as she rode imprisoned by this stranger. When would he stop? Knowing horses, she hoped he’d bring the beast to a state of lameness, then she could leap off and. …
The light changed as they emerged from the darkness of the forest into a vast, open landscape with a great leap over a giant tree trunk. She screamed in fright. Squinting from the sharp sunlight, she adjusted her eyes. A vast, grassy land with giant hills dotting the landscape lay before the Diablo Range. Jessica had heard of its breathtaking beauty, but for her it was indeed like facing the devil. Its craggy hills would swallow them up, and Caleb would never find her. A million places to hide was all she could think.
The animal snorted hard as the stranger commanded it to continue its furious pace. How could they cross the open landscape without being noticed? She searched desperately for a homestead, a wooden marker, fencing, even a cow—anything to indicate people were nearby. Then the base of the first mountain range was before them. Entering a canyon, the warmth of the sun vanished behind the high ridges. They road on. Finally, the ground below her moved more slowly until it came to a stop, even if her body did not, and it took a moment for her to feel she had also become still.
Jessica sat motionless as the horse’s labored breaths made her legs rise and fall, her own breathing just as labored. Her abductor dismounted, and for a wild moment she thought to command the beast and flee. Moving her leg to the other side, she was about to take the reins when the stranger’s hands were around her waist, pulling her to the ground. Her feet hit the solid earth, and she lurched forward before catching her balance. Standing before her was a Native man. Tall and muscular, his face was placid, and his long, black hair hung over a leather vest that rose and lowered with his breathing.
“Your name?”
Jessica was surprised that he spoke English. Her throat was dry and tight, and she could only produce an unintelligible sound. Clearing it, she tried again. “My name is Jessica Cantrell.”
“Cantrell, yes.”
He seemed to affirm something in her last name. “What do you want?”
Without a word, he turned to his horse and searched in one of the packs.
Escape! Hiking her dress in her fists, she sprinted to the opening of the valley. The floor beneath her was treacherous with low-growing shrubs littered among the rocky terrain. Looking back, she saw him watching from his horse. Maybe he’ll let me go! Running with all her strength, she headed for the open land. Her heart felt as if it would burst out of her chest, her legs becoming weaker. Suddenly, her foot caught the edge of a bush, and she tumbled onto the rocky floor of the canyon.
Then the sound of horse hooves. Wiping her mouth, her hand came back with fresh blood. She got to her feet and continued, her head down, her body contesting her every move. “No!” she cried as the horse bore down. She fell again, twisting her ankle. The stabbing pain went up her leg, and she collapsed onto the hard, dry earth. Determined, she dragged herself forward. The pain was too great, and her foot felt as if it would explode from her shoe. She stopped to untie the leather laces and yanked off the low-cut boot with a scream of pain. She crawled o
n the ground, shoe in hand, determined to get away. Looking over her shoulder, she saw him coming closer. The land was bleak, and she would not get far. Sitting like doomed prey, she watched him approach.
He dismounted and she felt him study her. She dared not look directly at him. Under her brows, she saw him remove a long, leather pouch from his saddle. He hunched down close to her and brought the opening of the pouch to her mouth. The oddly shaped animal skin smelled like horse dung, and she turned away in disgust. He drank from it himself, and she could see the clear water run down his chin. He poured the water in a cupped hand and brought it to her mouth for her to drink. Recoiling from his touch, the liquid touched her bodice, pink with her blood. Grimacing from pain, she tried to stand. It was no use, and she crumbled back down.
She crawled backward from him, her hands scraping across sharp stones. The sound of her rapid breathing was loud in her ears. He pulled her toward him. His hand reached for the injured foot, and she jerked away only to be met with a shooting pain up her leg. He went back to his pack and brought a strip of what looked like soft animal hide. Again, he was hunched down in front of her. Unsheathing the knife that hung from his belt, he sliced the length of it in two. She dampened a cry and let him wrap her foot and ankle. She would need his help to get back home again. The pressure of the tightened leather eased her pain, but only by a little. The throbbing continued. “What do you want? Why did you take me?” She was near hysterics.
He sat back on his haunches. “You are Caleb Cantrell’s wife?”
“Yes. How do you know my husband?”
He only nodded, and she wished she hadn’t given him any information. “This is kidnapping. You could go to jail—or worse. Take me home and I’ll tell no one.”
Standing now, he towered over her. “If they do not pay, I take you for my wife.”
Jessica couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and if it were not for the gravity of her situation, she would have laughed in his face. “I’m already someone’s wife. Are you taking me for ransom? It’s against the law.” A feeling of hope washed over her. He would realize his mistake and return her to the river.
He grinned. “Your laws are not our laws.”
“Oh, but they are.” She searched his face for understanding. “It is the law of the country. Now, please take me back!”
“Where are your people from?”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “You just took me from my people.” Jessica detected a slight recognition in his expression, but he gave no response. “It doesn’t matter, just take me back.” Tears filled her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. He reached up to touch her and she jerked away. “Return me to my home.” She shook with fright.
“Come.”
“No, I’m not going with you.” He pointed to the horse and again she refused. Before she could reason with him, he lifted her up and she was atop the horse, her cries lost in the open air. Her strained voice became a whisper, and she realized her calls had no place to go but onto the harsh land among the prairie dogs and coyotes. He mounted behind her. They rode again, but at a gentler pace. To her relief, he mostly followed the edge of the range. Each time he rode higher in elevation, the ridges became slippery with dirt and pebbles and the horse was unsteady. The sheer cliffs terrified her, and she choked back a scream. Then, to her relief, the ground would level again. Where would she end up?
Her thoughts reeled, colliding into her fear as she tried to reason. By now, Caleb must have known she was gone. Surely, he would be here soon to rescue her. Did this horse leave a trail? His hooves will give Caleb the clues. She prayed she was right. Then an arm reached around her waist, and she was pressed up against this man, this strange Indian man. The sun descended, raising her dread. The darkness of night was still to come.
Chapter Twenty-seven
The cold, cavernous, moonless night brought Jessica’s reality crashing in. Where was she? How would she find her way back? They were in a small clearing in a wooded area, but that’s all she could figure. The scent of pine filled her nose. Tomorrow she would take note of the rising sun and what direction they took. Earlier today, her life was full of promise and love, and now she was in a world of complete unknown.
Shivering, she found little comfort in the woven blanket he had given her. She squinted to see his form come in and out of the blackness as he gathered wood. Stooping in front of a small stack of broken branches, she saw him work the flints. Sparks flew once, twice, three times. Finally, a low flame came from the tip of a stick and a small fire formed. He coaxed it, and she could feel its warmth. The urge to lean into it was stopped by her inability to move, her fear so completely engulfed her. Then his arm was on her, and he dragged her closer to the fire. Her hands shook as she reached for the heat. He sat down with a grunt.
The pit of her stomach ached with emptiness. Remembering the raisin bread in her smock, she reached in and drew out the towel. Unwrapping it, she found the slice in several pieces. Taking one, she ate it with satisfaction. His hand pulled the bread from her mouth, bringing it to his nose. She lunged forward, not letting go of it. Making a face, he pushed it away and she devoured the piece, saving the rest for later. He offered her dried meat and what looked like dried fruit. The leathery meat had a bland, gamey taste, but she knew she would need her strength if she were to escape. The dried fruit was tastier and she ate her share. From the back of her mind came all the horror stories she had heard about Indian kidnappings. Shaking the thoughts from her head, she tried to settle her nerves. This was her, not them, and it would be … must be … different. She would stay awake and look for any opportunity to run away. “What is your name?” she asked.
He crouched by the fire and Jessica studied his features. His dark, bronze face was round with a straight, flat nose, and his black eyes sat atop high cheekbones. “Blue Heron,” he answered. A sound, like music, came from his full lips, exposing his white teeth. How could he sing at a time like this? She would get up and run, disappear into the night. Moving to stand, she slumped back down. Her ankle pained too much. A wave of heat came her way, and she thought of Caleb’s warm body. She wiped her eyes with two quick swipes.
Then he spoke. His voice was clear and quiet. “I will not hurt you. If you try to leave, I will come get you.” Tossing another stick onto the fire, he looked up and she caught his eyes piercing into her, full of confidence. “We will not be with my people for many days.”
Many days? The children’s story of Hansel and Gretel came to her mind—bread crumbs were all she had. With a jerky breath, she wrapped the blanket tightly around herself. “You must return me. What money are you talking about? What do you know about my husband? Tell me.”
A shrug of his shoulder was all she got. He took the blanket from her, and a cold chill ran up her spin. Laying the blanket on the ground, he gestured for her to lie with him. She hugged her knees to her chest and leaned in closer to the fire, turning her back to him. When she dared look over her shoulder, she saw him waiting with a stony stare. “No, I’ll sleep here. I’ll be fine here.” She held her legs closer to her chest, her head bent to her knees, trying to make herself small.
“The fire will go out and you will be cold. That is not good. Our bodies together will keep us warm.” The strength in his voice frightened her, but she couldn’t let him have his way.
“No, I will not!” Rocking back and forth, she stared into the flames. All of sudden, she was being raised up, his arms forcing their way under hers. She cried out in pain. “Let me go! I will not lay with you!” She fought him off and stumbled into the blackness, brushing up against rough tree bark and low-hanging limbs. Branches lashed at her neck and face. Fighting to keep her attention on escaping, she ignored the pain. Her efforts came to nothing. In no time, he was upon her, forcing her to return to the fire.
Placing her on the blanket, he pushed her down. Then he was laying next to her, covering them both. She sat up, and he pushed her back down again. “Stay!” he demanded. Helpless, she consented
for the sake of life itself, and soon she lay with her back to him. He smelled of dirty, sour sweat, and she could hardly keep from choking on her own bile. He held on to her strongly. Would she wake tomorrow from this horrible dream? What unthinkable things would he do to her? She tried to stay alert, but eventually her body gave in to a fitful sleep.
Waking with a start, her eyes darted around wildly. Her heart sank, as dawn brought no relief from her nightmare. Standing against her body’s will, she gained her balance, then looked around. The sun was still low in the sky, but its radiance felt warm on her face. A few trees crowded together where they camped on a slight hill, a valley below and the Diablo Range still looming. By her best calculation, the north of California was in front of her, home was to the west. She looked at the sun’s position and decided she was right. Blue Heron was at the fire.
As she smoothed her crumbled dress and adjusted her smock, she came across the lump of bread in the pocket. Unwrapping the towel that held the last piece and mostly crumbs, she choked back tears. The towel from her kitchen, her sweet kitchen. Would she ever see it hanging on the peg alongside the pantry? She ate the last of the bread and shook it out, then placed it back in her pocket.
The horse grazed on the rocky terrain. The packs on either side looked full, and she hoped they held more food. Her mouth was dry, and she looked for the water pouch. A rifle held in a leather casement was at the side of the saddle, and beside it, a quiver full of arrows. The bow hung below the horse’s belly on the other side. Her thoughts went to Caleb showing her his bow and arrows and trying to teach her how to use it. She wasn’t very successful. Learning to shoot a rifle had been more useful to her, even though she had been intimidated by it. She knew she’d need to learn the skill if she were to live away from town. Why hadn’t she taken a gun with her to the river? How could she get to Blue Heron’s rifle? “May I have water?” she called out to him.
Sacred Terrain (Traveled Hearts Series Book 2) Page 12