12 Naughty Days of Christmas 2020

by Megan McCoy

  The men weren’t just filthy and covered in ragged clothing, there were lots of men just like that in town looking for employment, but their faces and necks were covered with cuts and scars. One of the men’s hands appeared burnt so bad it was shiny and pulled tight, it resembled wax more than flesh as he gripped the plate in it. It was clear to her by the men’s talk that they hadn’t legally purchased the animals from Spencer, and they weren’t headed to any legitimate livestock market. Dale County, north of Topeka was known to be a place for vagrants and rustlers. Rumor had it that it could get so bad there that the Kansas government had to send U.S. Marshals quarterly to round up some of those on wanted posters and clean the place out. Only a month later, it would start swarming again with reprobates.

  She took in as much of their features as she could. When she got back to the house, she’d go over to Pete’s shed and get him to rouse Mr. Reynolds and go for Sheriff Silverman. Not wanting to be around the rustlers any longer than was necessary, she looked one more time to the other man to get a better description.

  When he lifted his head from the side of the plate where he was scrapping the last of the dried dark beans into his mouth, the firelight shined on the side of his face she could see. She was shocked by the sight of the deep gash that practically mangled him from forehead to below his right ear. It was so deep that his face tilted awkwardly at the bottom as if it had to be reattached there. She covered her mouth to hold back any sound she might make at the horrid appearance.

  “I gotta piss.” The waxy hand man discarded his dish toward the ground, it landed with a loud clatter as he rose, already fiddling with the button that held the flap of his breeches as he strolled off to the side.

  Thinking this was a perfect time, she turned to flee.

  “Oof!” She ran smack into the wide nose of one of the steer that must have followed her direction, as best it could while tied up. The impact knocked her off balance and she landed on her backside snapping several thick twigs beneath her.

  “Who’s dere?”

  “Whodat?”

  Not answering either men’s questions, she scrambled to her feet, not caring how much sound she made, bent on getting out of there before she was discovered. Over her shoulder, she could see scar face get up and move in her direction. Grabbing a fistful of her skirts, she took flight, planning to round the other three steer, then break through the trees. Even as the pounding of feet as they crunched through the layers of snow on the ground could be heard behind her, she headed for the clearing. She knew if she got there, anyone travelling the road to or from town could possibly see her and help if needed.

  The wall stopped her. Only thing, walls didn’t have hands that gripped her painfully.

  “What’da we have here, Stimmy?” His hands maybe scarred, but they had a manacle grip on her upper arms.

  She struggled against him as the other man could be heard moving closer to them from behind. “Let me go!”

  “Don’t know, Mint. I’m thinkin’ sum company on a cold night,” he cackled.

  “No. No! Turn me loose.” She kicked the man in the shin with the toe of her boot.

  “Ouch! Bitch.”

  She didn’t expect the swift kick back. She cried out as pain radiated from the side of her calf at the impact site. A man had never struck her before. “Get your filthy hands off me.”

  “Oh, she’s a feisty one.”

  She felt a hand tugging at her simple coiffure and shook her head to not only avoid his grip, but to deny his words. “No.” She stared up through the dark at the dirt-caked face of the man holding her against him. “Look, I won’t say anything about the cows you two stole. Just let me go.”

  “Ain’t that mighty kind.” His heavy rancid breath created a damp cloud around her face as he leaned down close to her.

  She thought that the name Mint must be a nickname, a joke, because there was nothing fresh about the oral stench coming from him at all. The only thing that rivaled his breath, was the foul smell of his unwashed body. She forced herself to swallow down the bile racing up the back of her throat.

  He shoved her away from him and she would have sighed with relief, except the man with his fingers in her hair yanked her back to him, hard. The air left her lungs at the collision, but it would not have mattered, since he clamped his other dirty hand over her mouth.

  It was apparent she was in trouble, it was going to be practically impossible for her to get away from them.

  Scarface leaned closer and pressed his lips to her ear, but the speech wasn’t a whisper as he declared, “You ain’t goin’ say nothing, because a squealin’ gal cain’t talk.”

  “And trust us, you goin’ be moanin’ a lot when we get between those thighs.” Mint grabbed at her breasts hard, as his muddy brown eyes gleamed in the dark.

  Not caring if she fell, she kicked out at him with both of her legs as she tried to scream past the hand over her mouth. It came out muffled, but she felt a moment of satisfaction as one of her heels struck Mint in the soft gut.

  “Shee-it!”

  When Mint stepped back and to the side with a groan, she went on the attack to the man behind her, swinging her clenched fist. He was holding her hair and mouth so tightly, she would have ended up snapping her own neck if she’d turned.

  “Oh, I do enjoy fuckin’ a wild filly. Goin’ have some fun tonight.” He thrust his hips into her backside. “Get ’er legs.”

  As she tried to kick out to the side where the other man stood, he grabbed one of her ankles and then the other leg behind her knee. She was held in a painful grasp as they started back toward the campfire. Since the one named Stimmy still just held her hair and mouth, she sagged at the middle.

  It felt as if her hair was being ripped from the roots in his tight grasp. It left her no choice but to fist her hands into his coat sleeves at his forearms to quell most of the pain in her scalp. She was no fool, two thieving simpletons bent on taking what they wanted from her body didn’t care if they made her bleed from her head in the process.

  When they set her down on the ground by the fire, none to gently, she quickly dug her hands deep into the dirt where the snow had been kept at bay by the warmth of the of flames.

  “Let’s see what we got us here.” Stimmy released her hair and began yanking loose the buttons of her cape.

  As Mint shoved one of his hands under the hem of her skirt and tore at her undergarments, she threw the handfuls of earth into his face. Bullseye.

  He yelled, swiped, and rubbed at his eyes. “Get’er hands! I think she blinded me.”

  “Ya gotta know how to tame a gal like this, good.” Stimmy chuckled at his friend’s injury as he took hold of her hands and wrestled them over her head, palms up, then captured them beneath the weight of his knees.

  The man was a thinner frame then his comrade, but still too heavy for her to bear the brunt of his weight in her hands for long. She prayed he wouldn’t break all the bones in her hands before they were through with her.

  “It ain’t fuckin’ funny, you jackrabbit asshole.” Mint, still between her knees, spit on his hands and tried to wipe away the dirt.

  “Oh, we both goin’ be overjoyed with pleasure soon. Ain’t that right, honey?” Stimmy ripped at her bodice, revealing one of her breasts to the cold.

  Ignoring the men and her shame at being exposed, she used the opportunity of her mouth being uncovered to suck in a big breath and let out the loudest scream she could - until she was silence by a slap. It happened so fast, she wasn’t sure if Stimmy had done it or if Mint had gotten enough of his sight back to do it.

  Her ears were ringing, the side of her face throbbed, and stars blinked before her eyes. For a moment she couldn’t hear a thing the men were murmuring above her. She was aware of nothing but the cold bite of the snow on her lower legs, breasts, and neck. The kiss of a few flakes on her hot cheek cooled it enough to clear her mind.

  “Mint, I want her wild, not unconscious beneath me,” Stimmy complained.
r />   “Don’t matter none to me. Long as her snatch is hot and tight.”

  “You’re a pathetic sap. We got a long ride in the night. Help me get the rest of her clothes off, so we can get on with what we gotta do,” Stimmy barked.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. In Grover Town this isn’t a way to treat a lady.”

  Both men stopped tugging at her clothes. She turned her head away, ashamed that someone should find her in such a state of undress before the two men.

  “This ain’t none of your business.” Mint was the first to speak at the newcomer.

  “I suggest you git before you regret it,” Stimmy demanded as his knee lifted from one of her hands.

  If not for the embarrassment, she would have sighed in relief.

  “I suggest you both move away from the lady.”

  If someone asked her to describe what she thought Michael the archangel’s voice sounded like, she would have depicted it just as the man who was speaking now. It was deep, imposing, and clear, with just enough rumble behind it to shake a person’s core with trepidation of what was to come.

  “Or what? You cain’t fight both of us, stupid mutterfucker.” Stimmy twisted and caused more pain in her hand still beneath him.

  She glanced over and saw the glint of steel of the knife he pulled from his waistband as he launched up. Before she could yell and warn the man, there was a blast and Stimmy dropped to the ground beside her head. The thin man never saw it coming, he fell back against the log, dead.

  “Stimmy!” Mint gaped at his dead friend.

  “If you don’t want to be next, move your stinkin’ ass back from the woman,” the man ordered.

  “I’m gonna kill—”

  Rachel acted, grabbing the knife from the ground, she arched up and slammed it into Mint’s thigh, then kicked him away. Wasting little time, clutching at the two torn halves of her bodice, she pulled them over her breasts and scrambled away.

  She didn’t care what the man was saying, the only thing she wanted was to locate her cape and get home. She was furious at the two men who had assaulted her, but she was just as angry at herself. She should never have left the Reynolds’ property alone so close to dusk. Looking left, then right, she couldn’t find her cape in the area around the firelight.

  The snow was so thick now, outside of the blazing fire, the warmth of the flames was barely beating back the freezing temperature. The chill started to set into her bones, but she knew she couldn’t remain much longer, and she’d just have to rush home as quickly as possible.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man dragging Mint by his collar toward a tree. Obviously, once he had the rustler there, he planned to tie him to the base of it.

  “I need somethin’ for my leg, I’ll bleed to death.”

  “Good, that’ll mean they won’t have to waste the space in jail.”

  Rising, she folded her hands across her chest, burying her hands under her arms as best she could to keep them warm. Tucking her chin to her chest, she started back into the trees.

  “I believe it might be best for you to have somethin’ to keep you warm, if you plan to go trapsin’ through the snow, ma’am.”

  The voice sounded too close behind her, causing her to jump. When she turned to face the man who had saved her, she felt like her heart pulse stopped and her heart leaped. Before her, holding her cape out and open to her, invitingly, was the one man she never expected to see this night, Lyle Joseph.

  Chapter 2

  “Oh, quit your bellyachin’. The noose that’s going to end up around your neck for rustling is going to hurt a lot more than that there cut.” Lyle didn’t spare a glance in the woman’s direction, not wanting to take his gaze from the man rolling on the ground clutching at the knife buried deep in his thigh.

  “That wench stabbed me!” Mint was hollerin’ something awful and cursing two blue streaks through the night.

  Once he’d discovered more rope in one of the men’s packs, he dragged the man to a tree and secured him in place, good and tight. “That’ll hold you until the sheriff gets here.” Ignoring the gripes of the man lashed to the Red Oak, he turned his attention toward the woman. He noticed her looking around for something, and figured from the way she had her arms wrapped around herself, it was most likely the dark cape he’d spotted in a ball right at the edge of the trees. Going to it, he swiped it from the ground. When he turned around, he saw her huddled form hustling into the trees.

  The woman will catch her death. Rushing after her, he spoke to her. “I believe it might be best for you to have somethin’ to keep you warm if you plan to go trapsin’ through the snow, ma’am.”

  She jumped, evidence that he had startled her. When she faced him, his breath was knocked from his lungs. Rachel Morrison stood before him, her hair a mess and covered in snow, and her pale blue dress stained and torn. Even all disheveled, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever set his gaze on.

  When her pretty hazel gaze met his with shadows of fear clouding them, his blood boiled. He wanted to beat the shit out of the man bound to the base of the tree and pray that the good Lord would bring the dead man back to life so he could kill him again. Knowing that the woman they had been assaulting was Rachel made Lyle furious. When he’d decided to take the long route back to the Rand farm from town to enjoy the first snowfall, he’d never expected to become a Good Samaritan. However, the scream of the woman had pierced the calm of the evening and stabbed him in the gut. He’d turned his horse towards the woods, not sure what he would find, expecting a grey wolf or black bear, even though the bears were becoming rare in the area with more people migrating to the state and towns popping up.

  What he hadn’t expected was the sight he’d come upon; two men assaulting a woman. He’d seen that she was bare to the night at her breast area and her legs, but out of respect, he’d focused his gaze on the two men to help conserve the woman’s modesty.

  Now, as he stood before her, holding her cape, and hearing her whisper his name, he felt not only angry, but also helpless. This night would stay with her for a long time and he could only wish to take it away from her.

  “Rachel, I think you may need this.”

  She glanced away from him, casting her gaze to the ground. “Than-k-k-k yo-ou.” Her teeth were chattering, and her full lips were turning blue, but she didn’t reach for the garment.

  At first, he frowned at her hesitance, but then it became clear why she wasn’t grabbing the wool covering quickly. If she moved her arms, it would reveal the part of her bodice that was gaping. Stepping up behind her, he took the choice from her, as he draped the cape over her shoulders. He allowed his hands to rest on her for a moment. “Everything will be all right, Rachel.”

  When he moved around her, he pulled the sides together and quickly fastened the few buttons still on her cape. Two were missing and he figured the jackasses had ruined it as they had done her dress and stockings.

  “I-I just want go ho-o-me.” Her body shock violently.

  He reached up and brushed away the snow from her hair. He removed his hat and set it on her head, hoping it helped keep her warm. “I’ll make sure you get there safe. My horse is waitin’ by the cattle.”

  She nodded, her teeth chattering too much for her to speak now.

  With all possible care, he slipped his arm around her shoulders, ensuring he didn’t spook her, as he guided her toward his horse.

  “You cain’t leave me here! I’m bleedin’. I could be attacked by some hungry beast,” the rustler called out from behind him.

  “Trust me, even animals have more taste than to want your vile hide.” Lyle never paused in stride as he walked beside the silent woman. Once they arrived at his white horse with black spots, he swung up into the saddle, then leaned down to take her by the waist. When she was settled before him, he reached into his saddle bag and removed a small woven blanket. Arranging it over her legs for extra warmth, he whispered, “Is that better?”

  She mouth
ed a thank you, as she gripped the saddle horn.

  After he slipped an arm around her and held her fast to his chest to keep her in place, he nudged his horse with his knee. He allowed Domino to pick his way through the trees and get them out on the other side. When they were back in the open, Lyle called out to his horse and urged him at a faster pace. Even with the blanket and his arms, Rachel still shivered. He needed to get her home fast, before she ended up sick for the holidays.

  The fast pace made the icy air slice across them both.

  “Here, please.” She directed once, they arrived on the Reynolds’ property, when they got to the small single home first.

  “You sure you don’t want me to take you to the main house? I don’t think you should be alone.” He continued to steer Domino toward the place she indicated.

  “I’m sure.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I don’t want them to know. Please, Mr. Joseph.”

  He held her gaze, those breathtaking eyes of hers, as he halted Domino at the far side of the house to keep him out of sight. There was a decent lean-to there as well, solid, and only big enough to stable one horse, but Lyle didn’t use it, he figured he would only be here long enough to get Rachel safely in the house. “You know those bad men are to blame, not you?”

  Her hazel eyes were filled with worry. “I just want to forget what happened. If others know, they’ll make too much of it and I won’t be able to put this night behind me.”

  “All right.” He slid off his horse, then lifted his hands to her. She let him take her by the waist and bring her to her feet. “When I see the sheriff, I’ll only tell him about the cattle and men, I’ll keep your secret.”

  “Thank you.” She went to the door and he walked with her.

  After she opened the door, she stood in the opening. He could see the fire low in the hearth and a single lamp burning on the table, but he could still feel the warm air coming out from inside.