Anna eyed her reflection in the mirror, chastising herself for acting like a schoolgirl. She felt giddy at the thought of Wes coming home in a short while. After a refreshingly cool bath, she dressed in a clean dress and was now combing the tangles from her hair. She’d managed to put together a dinner of beans and dried beef, her most successful effort so far. A small bouquet of wild flowers decorated the dinner table. If only she could get her hands on a bottle of wine.
She moved from the mirror to the dresser and fished through her drawer for a ribbon to tie her hair back. The sound of the front door opening brought a smile to her lips. “I’m in the bedroom, Wes, I’ll be right out.”
Humming softly, she pulled out a long yellow strip, but before she could reach behind her, a rough hand clamped around her mouth the same time an iron arm wrapped around her middle. Anna tried to bite a fat finger, then stomped down on the boot wedged between her feet.
A grunt from the person behind her turned into a growl in her ear. “I got a real sharp knife in my pocket, Miz Shannon. If you make a noise, or try to injure me again, I’ll slit that pretty throat of yours the marshal likes so much.”
Horror seeped through her at an older version of the voice she’d heard in the jailhouse.
“Git over here, boy.” The man, who must have been Buck Mather, spoke to someone else in the room. “Tie her arms behind her back, and make it quick.”
Still unable to see what was going on behind her, she pulled and tugged until Buck let go of her mouth and yanked on her hair hard enough to drag her backward almost to the ground. Tears sprang to her eyes at the pain from her scalp.
“I warned ya.” Within seconds, he had a knife pressed up against her throat. “Git up.”
Stretching her neck to avoid the blade, she rose, then her arms were jerked together and a rough piece of rope twisted around her joined hands and pulled tightly. Next they stuffed a dirty rag into her mouth and tied another one around it. The stench from the cloth almost made her vomit.
“Take that wedding ring off her finger, boy.”
She shook her head furiously, and tried to pull away.
He spun her around so she faced him. The fear she felt was nothing compared to the shot of terror racing through her at the two men who stood in front of her. An older man, the one whose picture she’d seen on the ‘wanted’ poster from Wes’s desk, and a baby-faced young man, the dead eyes of a cold blooded killer peering at her.
“Either we take that ring to leave as a souvenir for the marshal, or I cut the finger off and leave them both. You decide, little lady.”
The young man tugged her ring off and handed it to his father.
Buck laid a torn piece of brown paper on the table next to the wildflowers and placed the ring on top. “Let’s go.”
They pushed her toward the back door and down the steps. From this view, no one on the street could see them. With a strength that belied his frame, the young boy hoisted her up on a horse and jumped up behind her. He snapped the reins and they took off through the brush behind the house.
Wes opened the front door and his belly rumbled at the scent of something bubbling on the stove. The table was set with dishes, a small jar of flowers in the center. “Anna?”
He hung his hat on a hook over the shelf alongside the door as the sunlight glistening off something on the table caught his eye. Curious, he walked over and picked up Anna’s wedding ring. He fingered it while he read the note under it, his brow breaking into a sweat as he read the words.
You knowed where the cabyn is, lawman. Come git yore wife. And bring my boy with ya.
Chapter Nineteen
Only sheer determination kept Anna upright and not succumbing to the overwhelming urge to sleep. They’d been riding for hours, the bandits obviously not concerned about their horse carrying two people. Her fear had turned to anger, and then to crushing grief at what would surely end in either her or Wes being killed. Possibly both. But she dared not cry, or her nose would stop up and with the rag stuffed into her mouth, she’d probably suffocate.
Buck filled the monotonous hours relating stories of how he planned to torture and then kill Wes when he came to rescue her. The man was an animal. He joked with his son about taking turns raping her while Wes watched. She fought to control her terror, afraid for herself, afraid for Wes.
It was near dawn, and they’d stopped only once to let the horses drink. Although she’d grunted and pointed to the creek and her mouth, they left the gag on. Her mouth was so dry it felt like her entire body had shriveled up around it.
They broke through the woods and entered the town she remembered from her trip with Wes a few weeks ago. In the gray dawn no one appeared on the street, the stores securely locked up. Based on her prior visit, she doubted anyone would come to her rescue even if they saw her bound hands and the gag in her mouth.
About a half hour after they passed through, the men turned their horses toward a small cabin set back from the road, surrounded by more woods. Noah jumped from his horse and gripped her arm, pulling her down. She stumbled, her legs unable to hold her weight. Buck seized her other arm, and between the two of them, they dragged her to a door that hung on one hinge, then shoved her into the room.
She went flying across the floor, landing on her knees. Pain shot up her legs, bringing tears to her eyes.
It was a small space and smelled of sweat, smoke and rancid food. Cobwebs hung from the corners of the ceiling. Two windows on either side of the room had been broken in parts, almost as if someone had gone through them.
“Hey Buck, whattaya say we have a little fun with her now?” Noah cupped his privates and grinned in her direction.
The older man slapped Noah on the side of the head. “No. No one touches her until the marshal’s here. You understand, boy? I want him right here to see us take her for the first time.”
Noah rubbed his head. “Whatta we do with her, then?”
Buck fisted his hands on his hips. “You can take that gag off. She can scream her fool head off, but ain’t nobody around to hear her.”
The young man tugged her up and untied the bandana, yanking out strands of her hair. She spat out the filthy rag, her eyes burning from the pain in her scalp. “The marshal’s going to kill you both.” Her dry, raspy voice came out a whisper.
“That right, girl?” Buck strode across the space and backhanded her. Pain exploded in her head, and she reeled, falling onto a cot behind her. Her arms felt as if they would pull out of their sockets, and her fingers were numb. The stickiness of blood trickled down her hands from where the rope chafed against the skin on her wrists.
Tears sprang to her eyes and slowly slid down her cheeks. How she hated crying in front of these monsters. But mostly she hated knowing Wes would come for her, and probably get himself killed.
“Get up, Mather.” Wes shoved the key into the jail cell lock, and swung the door open.
Joe rubbed his eyes, peering at Wes in the darkness. “Where we goin’?”
Arnold moved in front of him, blocking the cell door. “Wes, you can’t do this.”
“I can and I will. Now get out of my way.”
Arnold held his hands up. “You can’t bring him out there alone. You’ll get yourself, and probably her, killed. I know you would figure that out for yourself if you was thinkin’ clear.”
“I don’t care what you know, I’m getting Anna back even if I have to let this piece of garbage go free. Now move.”
Arnold stood his ground. “You’re the marshal. As much as you want to, you can’t get your wife back by releasing a prisoner. You have to get a group together, do a rescue, not go running off half-cocked like this.”
In a flash, Wes had his gun out and pointed at the man’s chest. “Move, Prentiss.”
Arnold’s lips tightened. “You know you won’t shoot me. And you know I’m right.”
After staring at him for a full minute, Wes slowly lowered his gun and scraped his palm down his face. “God, I don’t know what
to do.”
Arnold gripped Wes’s shoulder. “Let’s talk about this. If they want to swap Anna for this scoundrel, they’ll keep her alive. At least until they see Joe.”
Wes slammed the cell door shut and locked it. Just the thought of those filthy bastards with their hands on Anna brought such a rage pounding through him, he wanted to smash his fist into something very hard. Taking a deep breath, he settled in his chair, rested his bent elbows on the desk and dropped his face in his hands. “They have my wife.”
Compassion softened Arnold’s features. “I know that. We have to plan how to get her back without getting you both killed.”
Wes gave a despairing chuckle laced with irony. “I can’t even think straight. All I want to do is drag that scum out of the cell and trade him for Anna.” He blew air from between his teeth. “And I know you’re right. They’ll kill her anyway.”
After sitting with his eyes closed for a few minutes, the only sound in the dark room the men’s breathing, Wes pointed at Arnold. “All right, this is what we’ll do.”
As much as she tried to sleep, the tug on her shoulders from her cinched wrists kept Anna awake. “Can you please untie my hands?”
“You complainin’ again, girl? I’d probably do yore husband a favor by shootin’ you dead.” Buck let loose with a stream of tobacco juice from where he sat by the window, watching the still woods.
“Buck, untie her hands. Her caterwaulin’ is keepin’ me awake,” Noah grumbled as he rolled over on the cot.
“All right. Anything to shut her up. If I didn’t have to keep her alive long enough for the marshal to git here, I’d kill her now.”
Noah threw off his thin blanket and moved to her cot, yanking her up. With one quick slice of his knife, her hands sprang free. The pain in her shoulders shot downward, and the tingling as the blood rushed into her arms almost made her wish they were still tied. Anna eased down on her back and gently placed her arms on her body. She bit her lip to keep from moaning as the pain increased.
Her face still ached from where Buck had slapped her. She felt so helpless, and angry that she was a trained police officer, but still unable to save herself. But then the academy had never covered being kidnapped by an 1870s outlaw gang. Not that it mattered; she had experience in law enforcement and should be able to carry out a plan to escape before Wes came for her. Good police procedure would prevent him from dragging a prisoner out here to make an exchange. And the loose cannon was Buck, wanting revenge for the death of his son. The only thing that would satisfy the man was to see Wes witness the horror they had planned for her and then shoot him dead.
The thought of her husband dying filled her with so much fear, she couldn’t breathe. Life without him would be unbearable. As corny as it sounded, even to her own ears, he was her soulmate. She fought down the tears that threatened to unhinge her.
Now that her arms weren’t in as much pain, she shifted to her side. Pushing the unpleasant thoughts away, she ran ideas through her mind to escape. But within minutes, and before any plan had developed, she was fast asleep.
“Mather, show yourself!”
Wes’s deep shout jolted Anna awake. The sun shone through the small window, casting dappled shadows on the floor. She blinked rapidly at the two outlaws asleep underneath the windows, their weapons clasped loosely in their hands. Before she even thought about it, she jumped up and raced for the door.
An iron fist gripped her ankle and she went down, banging onto the floor so hard she bounced. Her head hit the doorjamb and black dots swam in front of her eyes. She was brutally dragged back and kicked in the ribs, before Buck shoved the barrel of his gun in her face. “Don’t try that again, girl.”
Buck lumbered to the door, his gun cocked and pointed. “‘Bout time you showed up, marshal. Me and my boy was about to have some fun with yore woman.”
“You touch her and you’re a dead man, Mather.”
“Well now, since I got yore wife, and I’m pointin’ my gun at ya, I’d say I hold all the winnin’ cards.” He released a stream of brown-tinted saliva. “Where’s Joe?”
While Noah and Buck were occupied with Wes, Anna crawled to the window and looked out. Her husband stood about twenty feet from the cabin, legs spread, hands on his hips. Her eyes teared at the sight of him. Then terror slammed into her like a fist when he slowly unbuckled his gun belt and dropped it to the ground. He held his arms out, palms upward. “I want to come in and see my wife.”
“And I asked ya where my boy is.”
“You can’t think I’m dumb enough to bring him out here until I’m sure Anna is all right. Let me come in and talk to her.”
Buck studied him for a minute, then waved him in.
Wes cleared the doorway, his eyes quickly searching the room until he saw Anna. Blind rage swept through him at the purple bruise on her face, one eye swollen. She moved from where she stood by the window and winced.
Buck Mather would not leave here a prisoner, but a dead man. Wes held his hand out. “Honey?”
Anna moaned and flew into his arms. He quickly released her when she cried out in pain as he hugged her. “You all right?”
“Now that you’re here.” She leaned in as if to kiss his cheek, but whispered into his ear. “You shouldn’t have left your gun outside.”
“Now ain’t that a purty sight?” Buck snickered, the sound lacking mirth. “Get over here, marshal, now you seed yore little lady is just fine.” He pointed his gun at Wes. “I’m askin’ this for the last time. Where’s my son?”
“About two miles down the road, guarded by my deputy. If you want to see him alive, let my wife go. Then I’ll lead you to him.”
Buck moved his mouth in semblance of a smile. “Ain’t you the clever one.” In two seconds he was across the room, his Colt shoved against Anna’s throat. “Now here’s how it’s goin’, marshal. Noah here will go with you to get my boy, and I’ll keep yore charmin’ wife company. Once I see that my boy’s all right, I’ll let her go.”
“No deal.”
“I hate to keep pointin’ this out to you, boy, but you ain’t got no say in this. I have the gun, I have your wife, and you got nothin’.”
“He has Joe,” Anna said, then winced when Buck backhanded her again.
Wes rushed Buck and tackled him to the floor. The two men rolled, Wes reaching for Buck’s gun as the man tried to raise it. Wes slammed Buck’s hand against the floor, and the gun flew across the room, skidding into the corner.
Noah fired a shot in the air, but both men ignored him. The boy looked confused as he tried to aim at Wes, but with the two men rolling, he hesitated, apparently not wanting to shoot for fear of hitting his father. Anna took advantage of his distraction to scurry over to the corner and pick up Buck’s gun.
“Hold it.” The sound of her voice was lost with Noah shouting encouragement at this father. The men grunted as they pummeled each other, fists flying and bodies banging against the scanty furniture.
Noah turned quickly as she picked up the weapon, his cruel eyes boring into her as he aimed. Before he could shoot, Anna fired. The boy fell to his knees, clutching his middle. He looked at her in surprise, blood gurgling from his mouth. With a slight grunt, his eyes closed and he hit the floor, face down.
With shaky hands she lowered the gun, taking in deep gulps of air. Her attention was drawn to Wes, straddling Buck, his hands wrapped around the outlaw’s throat. The man clawed at Wes’s hands as his face grew a deep red.
“Wes. Let him go,” Anna gasped.
Wes swung his gaze to her, then relaxed his hands briefly. With a curse, he drew back his arm and smashed his fist into Buck’s chin, knocking him out. Anna crawled to him and Wes wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. They sat clutching each other for a minute until their breathing returned to normal.
He eased away and studied her. “You stay here with him.” He gestured in Buck’s direction. “I’ll get Arnold and Joe. Don’t trust the scum when he wakes up.”
>
Anna nodded. “I know. I’ll get the rope they used on me and tie him up.”
“Jack is outside if you need him.”
Wes rode Nektosha through the woods to where he’d left Arnold and Joe. He’d planned to lure Buck away from the cabin to give Jack a better chance to get her out with only Noah for a guard.
“All clear,” Wes called as he approached the group. “Let’s head back to the cabin and get the others.”
“Where’s Buck?” Joe asked from where he sat on a horse, his hands tied behind his back.
“Knocked out cold. He’ll be joining you in that jail cell.”
“Anna all right?” Arnold asked as they escorted Joe to the cabin.
The sight of her injuries still tore at him. He should’ve killed Buck when he had the chance. Anna had been right to stop him, though, but he would get a lot of pleasure from watching the man swing from a rope.
At this point all he wanted to do was put the entire gang out of his mind, and get his wife home where he could tend to her injuries. He increased the horse’s speed as they neared the cabin.
Anna stood in the doorway when the group arrived. “Who’s watching Buck?” Wes asked as he dropped from his horse.
Anna started down the path. “He’s still out cold.”
“Jack?”
“He’s searching his saddle bags for more rope. The one they used on me was cut into pieces.”
“Hey!” Arnold shouted as Wes and Anna whipped their heads around to face the front door of the small house. Buck stood in the doorway, leaning heavily against the frame, his gun aimed at Wes’s chest.
“No!” Anna ran the few feet toward Wes, their eyes locking.
Everything moved in slow motion while Wes watched Anna’s frantic expression as she raced toward him. Then Buck fired his gun, and Anna screamed and threw her head back, collapsing to the ground. Arnold fired a shot at Buck, hitting him squarely in the chest.
A Tumble Through Time Page 20
