Carissa didn’t know if she’d passed out or fallen asleep out of pure exhaustion, but when she awoke she found herself stretched out beside a campfire, hands tied in front of her and the dreaded sack gone. Struggling to sit up, she found three men watching her while they ate.
“What’s going on?” she asked groggily. “What do you want with me?”
One of the men got to his feet and came to where she sat. He crouched down and Carissa could see in the firelight that he was at least part Indian. “Do you want to eat?” he asked in perfect English.
“I want to go home.” She all but spat the words.
He smiled. “You aren’t going anywhere but with us.”
“Why?” She fixed her gaze on his eyes, searching for the truth.
“Because I said so.”
The other men laughed, and the Indian got to his feet. “If you want to eat, there’s food and I will give you some. If not—it’s your loss.”
Carissa ignored the rumble in her stomach and looked instead at the other two men. “Why are you doing this?” They were white men, and it was clear that this was in no way a part of an Indian attack. Apparently the Indian cohort was simply a part of their gang.
“We got our reasons, and none of them are your business,” one of the men replied. He continued eating from a metal plate, uninterested in Carissa’s concerns.
“My family will never stand for this,” she told the men. “They will come after me.”
“Most likely they will try,” the third man said. “But they won’t accomplish much. Long Knife knows how to cover his tracks.”
Carissa looked at the man but said nothing. Except for Night Bear, she’d never had any encounters with Indians. Long Knife ladled beans onto a tin plate. Next he added a piece of jerked meat. He looked at Carissa for a moment, then retrieved a spoon from what appeared to be his own plate.
Bristling silently at his approach, Carissa tried to keep a brave front. She didn’t want these men to think they had bested her. Long Knife crouched beside her once again. He put the plate on the ground at Carissa’s right and pulled a blade from his belt.
The long gleaming knife seemed a poignant reminder of the man’s name. He motioned to her hands. Carissa hoped he only meant to cut her bonds loose. She raised her bound wrists. With a quick flick of his knife, the Indian freed her.
“If you try to run; I’ll cut the backs of your heels.”
She shivered at the thought and rubbed her wrists. “Where are you taking me?”
The Indian stood. “Eat.”
She frowned. Why wouldn’t they just tell her what their plans were? She was just one small woman and could hardly thwart their efforts. After a moment of contemplation, Carissa picked up the plate and sampled the beans. She felt famished and downed the food without even considering what it was she ate. Her only thought was to keep up her strength and figure a way out of her situation.
When the men finished eating, Carissa waited to see what they might say or do. One of the men stretched out by the fire and pulled his hat down over his eyes. Long Knife came to where Carissa sat and took her plate and spoon.
“You can relieve yourself over there,” he said, pointing to a stand of trees. “Just remember, if you try to run away, I will cut you.”
Carissa nodded and got to her feet. She felt sore from head to toe and for a moment wasn’t even sure she could walk. She took a hesitant step and then another. The trees didn’t look to offer much coverage, but she took advantage of the moment nevertheless. When she returned to the camp, Long Knife motioned to the fire. “We will sleep for a time. I will tie you up again.”
She said nothing. What could she say, after all? She could tell him that she thought his actions were barbaric. Tell him she wanted to go home. But they didn’t care. They were clearly following someone’s orders.
“Where are we going?” she finally asked.
Long Knife bound her wrists and this time her feet, as well. With the rawhide straps he used to tie her ankles, he connected the other end to his wrist. “I am a very light sleeper. I will know if you move.” Last of all, he took up a blanket and tossed it over her.
Carissa looked him in the eye. “Tell me where we’re going. Tell me why you’ve taken me.”
He stretched out at her feet. “Go to sleep.”
She wanted to scream in protest. She wanted to kick him in the head. Instead, she forced her feelings to wane. Thinking of Gloria and her longing to be home, Carissa decided she would be far wiser to at least pretend cooperation.
For a long while she considered the situation. When Long Knife had taken her, he said something about someone wanting her alive. So obviously Long Knife and the other men didn’t plan to kill her. That gave her some comfort. But who had sent them?
Staring up at the stars overhead, Carissa tried her best not to move. God, are you there? Do you see me here? Do you care? She had spent so much time reading the Bible and praying, and she had thought that she was actually starting to understand God. Now this had happened, and she wasn’t sure she understood anything at all.
Carissa thought of her loved ones. By now they knew she was truly gone, but would they guess who had taken her or what direction they’d gone? The men said Long Knife would have covered their tracks. She let go a heavy sigh. What about Tyler? Was he home by now? Did he know she’d been taken? No doubt the tired men would jump to action when they heard. At least she hoped they would.
Forgetting about the leash Long Knife had put her on, Carissa rolled to her side. The Indian didn’t so much as move. She didn’t know if that was because he slept or because he knew she wasn’t going anywhere. Either way, she was his prisoner.
22
Carissa felt that she’d barely fallen asleep when Long Knife was shaking her awake. “Get up. We’re gonna ride. You need to eat.”
She sat up and looked around her, remembering the night before. She wondered where the other two men had gone. The camp looked deserted. Long Knife untied her ankles but left her hands secured.
“Where are your friends?” she asked.
Long Knife looked at her for a moment. Finally he gave a grunt and replied, “They’re readying the horses. You need to go?” He motioned to the trees.
Carissa shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”
Long Knife brought her some jerked beef and a canteen. “Eat. We have a long ride.”
She ate the beef and took a long drink from the canteen. It was awkward at best with her hands tied, but not impossible. The men approached with the horses, and Long Knife came to pull her to her feet. He took the canteen and motioned to the horses. “Can you ride?”
“Not well, but I certainly don’t want to go in the same manner as yesterday.” She eyed the large buckskin gelding and then looked back at the Indian. “I’ll do my best.”
“You’ll ride in front of me,” Long Knife said. He didn’t give her a chance to protest, but lifted Carissa as if she weighed nothing and hoisted them both up to the saddle in one motion. Carissa gasped, fearing he might drop her, but Long Knife’s strong arms held her fast.
He rested her in his lap and the forced nearness was enough to make Carissa rebel. “I cannot ride like this.”
“You’ll ride like this or like you did yesterday,” he told her.
The men laughed, and one of them couldn’t help but comment, “You’d best get used to it, missus. Ain’t nobody here concerned about your comfort.”
Carissa narrowed her eyes at the man. She wanted nothing more than to tell him exactly what she thought, but she held her tongue. If she was going to get away, she would have to convince them that she wasn’t a threat. Bowing her head, she nodded ever so slightly.
Long Knife kicked the buckskin into motion and the trio made their way across the vast expanse of land. Carissa looked for landmarks—anything that she might recognize—but there was very little to go on. She didn’t know where they’d brought her.
The horizon stretched out before them in gras
sy prairie and rocky hills. Occasionally they crossed a muddy creek or river and enjoyed the shade of the trees that lined the water’s edge. They followed small trails from time to time, but mostly they cut across the land and headed ever farther from her loved ones.
If she could have been with Tyler, the ride might have been enjoyable. The views were definitely pretty and she was quite amazed at how this part of Texas differed from that of the coastal south. Herds of longhorn cattle grazed openly, and occasionally a mule-eared dear or a rabbit could be spotted. At one point one of the men riding ahead took off after a rabbit. Carissa heard the shot and in a short time he rejoined them with the rabbit hanging off the side of his saddle.
“We’ll have rabbit stew this evening,” he said, grinning.
The idea actually sounded rather appealing to Carissa. She wondered if they would expect her to clean and cook the animal or if they’d leave her tied up. Perhaps she could volunteer to be useful and they’d leave off her bonds. It was worth asking about.
“I can cook quite well,” she told Long Knife. “Perhaps you’d like for me to prepare the rabbit.”
He paused for the briefest moment. “Maybe.” That was all he said, however, and Carissa didn’t feel she should press the issue.
She noted the sun moving across the sky as the day dragged on, and determined they were headed southwest. At least that was what it looked like to her. Maybe they’d get overconfident that she was far enough away from all that she knew, and they’d leave her unbound if they allowed her to cook. If so, Carissa could take a chance and run tonight.
But what good will it do me? I have no idea where I am or where they are taking me. If I managed to get away, there would be nowhere for me to go. With miles of open land, they would easily find me. She frowned, fearing the entire situation was rather hopeless.
Toward late afternoon they rested the horses, shared some more jerky, and then resumed the ride. Carissa was so stiff and sore she could hardly bear to be put back on the horse. She said nothing, however, afraid that if she did, Long Knife would threaten to return her to her former position.
The heat had grown steadily throughout the day and Carissa found herself quite miserable. Perspiration trickled down her face, and she didn’t even have a sunbonnet to ease her discomfort.
“When will we stop?” she asked Long Knife.
“Soon.” His brief reply irritated her, but again Carissa held her temper.
The long ride took its toll, and she found herself dozing off and on. She first tried to fight her exhaustion, but soon found sleep a welcome relief from the pain. She thought again of Tyler and how he had plans to teach her to ride. If this trip was any indication, Carissa knew she’d want nothing more to do with any time on the back of a horse. Then she dreamed of Gloria and Tyler together. They seemed so happy, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Tyler would remain in Gloria’s life—should something happen.
“There’s the shack,” one of the men called out.
The sound of men’s voices slowly awakened Carissa. She was drenched in sweat and now smelled as bad as the man who held her. She longed for a bath but doubted anyone would offer her such a treat.
She tried to get her bearings and noted that the landscape had changed to scrub and rocky ledges. They seemed to be making their way along a dry wash or something of the sort. Just ahead was a small cabin—a shack, just as the man had called it. The unpainted wood made it look ancient and fragile. Carissa couldn’t help but think of the seaside shack Malcolm had kept her in just before his demise.
They pulled up to the place and dismounted. Carissa’s legs buckled beneath her and without a word, Long Knife lifted her in his arms. She was too tired and sore to protest. Once inside, Carissa couldn’t suppress a moan when Long Knife put her upon a straight-backed chair. He looked at her with something akin to sympathy.
“Are you thirsty?”
“Thirsty. Hot. Tired. Hurting. You name it,” she replied.
He nodded and brought her a canteen. “Drink.”
She did as he instructed. “So what now?”
“Now we wait.”
She looked at the men who were busying themselves with lighting a lantern and laying a fire. “Wait? For what?”
“For the man who paid us to bring you here,” Long Knife replied.
They didn’t have long to wait. The sound of horse hooves coming toward the cabin sent all three men into position. Long Knife put out the lamp and went to the window. The other two men took up their places on the other side of the door. Carissa remained where she was, knowing that if bullets started to fly, she’d most likely be struck.
“It’s Jesse!” a voice called out. “Don’t shoot.”
Carissa could barely see in the faint glow of firelight from the hearth. One of the men went to open the door while the other lit the lamp. She racked her memories for a man named Jesse. Was he one of Malcolm’s friends? Perhaps an enemy?
The door burst open and a tall, grizzled-looking man bounded in with an older, shorter man behind him. The older man took one look at Carissa and screwed up his face.
“Who in the blue blazes is she?”
“The woman you sent us to get,” Long Knife replied.
Jesse shook his head. “You got it wrong, brother. This ain’t Hannah Barnett.”
Carissa looked at the men and shook her head. “No, I’m Carissa Lowe. I was just staying at the Barnett ranch.”
Jesse spit on the floor and scowled. “Should’ve gone myself.”
“She fits the description you gave us,” Long Knife countered.
“Well, she might have Hannah’s coloring,” the older man said, “but it’s not her. You have to go back and get the right woman.”
“Go back? Now?” one of the other men questioned. “They’ll have the law called on us by now.”
The older man moved forward and took a seat across from Carissa. It was then that it dawned on her that this man was the one who’d broken out of jail. The one Hannah was afraid would come to seek her out.
“You’re Mr. Lockhart, aren’t you?” she asked.
He seemed surprised, but smiled. “I am. I suppose Hannah has talked about me.”
She shook her head. “Not much. But the sheriff has. He warned us that you were on the run.”
Lockhart sneered. “Well, he might know that much, but he don’t know much else.”
“So you had these men come to take Hannah, but they got me instead,” Carissa said, trying to put all the pieces together. “You were planning to kill her, weren’t you?”
“She has it coming,” he said without feeling. He looked at Jesse. “You’re right, you should have gone yourself. Long Knife and you best go back now and do what you can.”
“You’re a fool if you think Hannah hasn’t already prepared for that,” Carissa declared. “She has that place well defended. It was only my own foolishness that allowed me to get taken by your men. Besides, our men are due back anytime. Once they’re in place, you won’t stand a chance to cause any more trouble.”
Long Knife shook his head. “She’s right. They had that place pretty well under guard. They even had night riders keeping watch. It won’t be easy to get within a mile of it.”
Carissa smiled and nodded. “Exactly. You won’t ever get your hands on Hannah or anyone else.”
Lockhart considered her words. His expression was almost a leer as he turned back to her. “Well, we still have you.”
His words caused a chill to go down Carissa’s spine, and she could see the cold indifference in the man’s eyes. He truly didn’t care what happened to her and would use her to suit his purpose. That much was clear.
23
I can’t believe you’re finally here,” Hannah said, falling into William’s arms.
“Me either.” He pulled her to his lips and kissed her, then stepped back to eye her rounded stomach. “Just look at you.”
“I’m a sight to be sure.” She sniffed back tears.
“A
beautiful sight,” he said with a grin.
Tyler looked around for some glimpse of Carissa, but saw no one else. He pounded the dust off his pants and shirt and went to the well for water. He gave the handle a couple of good pumps and was soon rewarded with fairly cool water. It felt good on his face and with another pump he had enough water flowing to pour over his head.
“It’s good to have you home, too, Tyler.”
Snapping up at the sound of his name, Tyler grinned behind the streams of water. “Feels mighty good to be back, Hannah.” He crossed back to where she stood with William and Brandon. “Although I guess I’m without a ranch now.” His smile faded. “You never know what life is going to throw your way.” He tried his best not to sound too discouraged, but in truth, this homecoming was something of a mixed barrel of emotions for him.
Hannah started to say something, but Brandon took hold of her arm. He looked grim and his voice sounded strained “Laura?”
“She’s doing very well, and so is your son Lucas.”
A look of relief filled Brandon’s face. Tyler thought he might actually fall to his knees. “Praise God.” Tears trickled down Brandon’s cheek. “I’ve been praying since we got the telegram from the sheriff. I have to say I feared the worst.”
“He said something about having sent the news, but I wish he wouldn’t have done that. I knew there was nothing you could do, and I knew it would only cause you greater worry to wait.”
“I must go see my wife.” Brandon wiped his eyes and bounded for the front door of the house.
Hannah said nothing until he’d gone. She looked into the eyes of her husband and then turned to Tyler. “We have an entirely new problem—a very grave matter. Carissa has been taken.”
“What? Taken where?” Tyler demanded. “By whom?” He pulled off his kerchief and wiped his face and hair. With his fingers he slicked back the wet strands and waited for her answer.
Tracie Peterson - [Land of the Lone Star 03] Page 20
