Nathan felt a flood of relief that was quickly replaced by shame. Move! his mind screamed. It’s not too late to stop them! But all he could do was tremble while tears trickled down his face.
He had no idea how much time passed, but he was beginning to regain control of his limbs when he heard stealthy footsteps. He thought Bull was returning and his insides turned to ice.
“Sarah?” came a whispered voice.
River! It was River, not Bull! Nathan’s body shuddered as he scrambled from his hiding place. “River!” he croaked.
River heard the strange sound behind him. He turned to find Nathan stumbling toward him. His first thought was the boy had been lying awake, waiting to defend Sarah’s honor. He looked around quickly to see if he had awakened the others.
Nathan was gasping for breath. “They took Sarah,” he managed to say at last. “Took her away.”
River grabbed a handful of the boy’s shirt. “What are you talking about? Who took Sarah?”
Nathan struggled for control. He’ll hate me for not saving her, he thought. I deserve whatever he does to me. “Bull,” he whispered. “Bull took her.”
“When?” River demanded.
Nathan shook his head. “I don’t know. I wanted to stop him. I couldn’t.” He fought back a sob and was only partially successful. “I wanted to...” He wished with all his heart he had confronted Bull, even if it had meant his life. Death would be better than this horrible regret.
It was dark now, and River could barely make out the boy’s face. He wouldn’t find any tracks until the moon came up. He heard a string of oaths from under the next wagon and knew they had awakened Eli. He felt Nathan stiffen. The boy was terrified.
So am I, he thought. Sarah’s in the hands of Bull Gaines.
Chapter Fifteen
It was the shaking that roused Sarah, a steady shaking that made her head vibrate with pain. She became conscious of the movement of a horse beneath her and realized she was lying across a saddle. Ropes tied her wrists and rubbed the bare flesh of her legs below her tangled skirt. She stifled a groan as memory of Bull and Herman brought her fully awake.
Sarah remained limp as she tried to understand what was happening. They were traveling fast and, as near as she could tell from the horse’s gait, over rougher terrain than the wagons had traveled.
Herman spoke in front of her. “Why didn’t you bring Nathan?”
“I told you to forget about Nathan. There weren’t no time to go lookin’ for him,” Bull answered.
Herman mumbled, “Well, I miss Nathan.”
Bull didn’t respond, and Sarah stole a glance at him. They hadn’t noticed yet that she was awake, and she hoped they would ignore her long enough for her to see a way of escape. Her hope died when the horse’s plunge up a slope elicited a groan she couldn’t stifle.
“Decided to wake up, did you?” Bull pulled his horse to a walk, and Sarah’s mount followed suit.
At first, Sarah was grateful the jarring had stopped. She raised her head to look around and saw Bull leering at her. With a show of courage she didn’t feel, she demanded, “Where are you taking me?”
“Just on here a ways,” Bull replied casually. “Country gets a little rough, but I hear tell it’s awful pretty. Too bad you can’t see none of it.”
“River will come after us.”
Bull laughed at that and in a moment Herman joined in. “That’s what I’m counting on, little Miss Prim-and-Proper. But the nice thing about rough country is the places you can hide.”
“He’ll find you.” Sarah heard the confidence go out of her voice. There would indeed be plenty of places to hide.
Bull laughed again. “Now, missy, I didn’t say I didn’t want him to find us, did I?”
Sarah felt a shiver along her spine. Fear for herself was replaced with fear for River. Bull gave her only a moment to think before he kicked his horse into the bone-jarring pace he had set before.
* * *
River halted the pinto by a little trickle of water, and Milburn’s black came alongside to drink, as well. He would let them drink and rest for a moment, then trade mounts and press on. The tracks were easy to follow, even by moonlight. Either Bull was a fool, or he wanted to be followed.
River dismounted and stretched, knowing he should rest if he hoped to stay alert enough to avoid a trap. At the same time, he felt a need to follow the trail as long as he could. If he lost the tracks, he would rest until daylight. He knew sleep would be impossible in any case.
He unfastened the lead rope from the black’s halter and fastened it to the pinto’s before checking the cinches on both saddles. He knew the gear was tied securely, but he checked it just the same. Eli had packed enough food for a week, it seemed, and had evenly divided it between the two horses. River prayed it wouldn’t take anything like a week to get his Sarah back.
Just the same, he had instructed Eli to take the train to Fort Laramie. After a few days’ rest, he was to continue on. He hoped he would be able to catch up before they got to Fort Hall, but if not, Eli was to leave word there of what he planned to do. The train had to get over the mountains before winter, and they couldn’t afford to wait for him.
He hadn’t told Eli the rest of his plans. If he didn’t bring Sarah back with him, he would no longer have the heart for them, anyway.
He rubbed a hand across his forehead as if to wipe away the thought. It produced the same sinking feeling inside he had had when he checked the wagon for Sarah. Until he had entered the empty wagon, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to believe Nathan.
River swung onto the back of the black and led the pinto away from the stream. If he let his mind dwell on Sarah, he would go crazy with worry.
The tracks River followed led south and east toward Wildcat Ridge. He wondered if Bull had any idea where he was going. It wouldn’t matter. River would find him.
Less than an hour later, River was having trouble seeing. At first he thought it was fatigue but soon realized the soft moonlight was becoming unreliable as more and more clouds drifted across the sky. Losing the tracks now would mean wasted time backtracking in the morning. Reluctantly, River looked for a place to camp.
* * *
Sarah couldn’t be sure, but she guessed it was a couple of hours until dawn. Bull had called a halt and, while Herman held the horse, untied the ropes that bound her to the saddle. He took the opportunity to run his hand far up her thigh. Sarah could manage barely a whimper in protest. Bull laughed and dragged her from the saddle. He let her slide down the length of his body, her skirt bunching at her waist and her bare legs brushing the fabric of his trousers until her feet touched the ground.
Sarah’s stomach heaved, and she instinctively fought it down. She wished she hadn’t. She wanted nothing more than to turn and throw up in the man’s face. The fact that he would retaliate with violence entered her mind. Choosing a different tact, she went limp. Far better for him to think she was completely exhausted. It wasn’t far from the truth, anyway. Perhaps he wouldn’t bother to tie her if he thought she was too weak to escape.
Bull lifted her, and she resisted the temptation to struggle. Sarah pretended to be asleep as he laid her on the ground and knelt above her. He ran a rough finger down her cheek, and she flinched away.
She heard Bull laugh as his hand settled on her mouth, but she didn’t open her eyes. “I’ll wait till you’re feeling a little stronger, missy,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “But I want to give you something to think about tonight.” His hand moved downward to caress her breast, massaging it gently.
Sarah was revolted by the intimate touch but tried not to pull away from him. She prayed he would stop if he thought she was beyond caring. His fingers found the tip of her breast, and he pinched it hard, causing her to cry out.
“Bull?” Herman’s voice came from the darkness.
Bull leaned close to Sarah’s ear. “Don’t be putting on airs no more, missy. Your River ain’t here to push me around. I’m the boss
now, and you’ll do as I say.”
“Bull?” Herman persisted. “Where should I tie the horses? I can’t see nothin’ in the dark.”
“You just think on it tonight,” he murmured, giving her breast another squeeze. A sob escaped Sarah’s throat, and Bull chuckled.
She felt him leave her side and fought back the tears. Don’t panic, she told herself. Wait for your chance and escape! But part of her mind was already withdrawing. She felt her own sobs with almost a detached interest.
Bull returned with the rope and bound her hands and feet. “You get some sleep, missy,” he said in an imitation of friendliness. “We’ll talk more in the morning.” He emphasized “talk” with another squeeze to her sore breast.
Sarah rolled to her side and brought her knees up to her chest. It seemed to still the shuddering. In the distance she could hear Herman and Bull talking. Sometime later Herman brought a blanket and spread it over her. They didn’t light a fire, and Sarah’s shudders turned to shivers.
Breathing in the cold air seemed to clear her mind, though. She realized River would have missed her immediately and would be following close behind. Bull seemed to think she wouldn’t be missed until morning. She needed to let him continue to believe that. If she could stall them in the morning, River would catch up before they had a chance to lay their trap.
Unfortunately, she could think of only one way to stall. As revolting as it seemed, she would have to pretend to warm up to Bull. Perhaps with Herman around, Bull wouldn’t do anything. She didn’t really believe that. Bull would probably simply tell Herman to go wait elsewhere. The thought brought on the return of the sobbing. She tried to control it by relaxing and found herself drifting off to sleep.
She shook herself, wanting to think of another plan. The way she was tied allowed her hands to reach the ropes at her ankles. She had no hope of getting away from Bull, but if she could sneak out of camp and hide, the time it took them to find her might be the time River needed. She cringed when she thought of what Bull would do when he found her. It was still better than her first plan.
She tried to listen to the men’s breathing to determine if they were asleep and had to shake herself awake again. Perhaps it would be better to wait until closer to morning. She needed rest to regain her strength. But she also needed to stay awake, she told herself. In the end her mind lost, and her tired body won.
She awoke to shaking again. For a moment she thought she had fallen asleep on the horse and dreamed that Bull had made camp. Herman’s voice brought her fully awake. “Bull said I was to wake you. He wants you should fix us some breakfast.” He shook her again for good measure.
Sarah rolled over and groaned. Her body was sore from last night’s punishing ride and cramped from sleeping on the cold ground, restricted by the ropes. Blinking up at Herman, she realized it was almost fully light. Her plan came back to her like a splash of cold water. Her chance to hide was gone, but fixing breakfast might work to gain time for River.
She sat up slowly, and Herman moved back as if he were a little afraid of her. She glared at him a moment before offering her wrists for him to untie.
“Bull says I’m to untie your feet so’s you can walk, but you can cook with your hands tied, he says.”
Sarah didn’t respond. Herman seemed to be waiting for something, and Sarah was glad to let him wait. She looked around the camp. A fire had been started, but Bull was nowhere in sight.
Herman cleared his throat. She took her time turning to him. He reached toward her twice and drew away. “I’m gonna untie your feet now,” he said.
She glanced down to where the blanket covered the lower half of her body. He was too shy to remove the blanket, and there was nothing to be gained by making it easy for him. She had once felt sorry for the poor simpleton, but he had made the choice to follow Bull. She had to defeat him if she was going to save River. She simply glared at him and let him squirm.
Herman swallowed hard and knelt beside her. He gingerly lifted the tip of the blanket that trailed on the ground. He brought it up slowly until he could see her shoes and sighed with relief. He laid the blanket across her legs and grinned at her. “I’m gonna untie your feet now,” he repeated.
Bull’s nasty laugh brought their attention to the other side of the camp. “Quit drooling on the woman, Herman, and get the job done.”
Herman grinned sheepishly at Sarah and began to work on the knots. Bull’s presence in the camp made her doubt all her plans. She could feel his eyes on her and remembered his crude touch. Fear washed over her, and she wasn’t sure she would have the courage to get to her feet, let alone try to stall them.
Herman stepped back. “You can get up now.” His head bobbed up and down as encouragement.
River, she told herself. I have to do it for River. She came slowly to her feet. Her legs were sore, and she didn’t fake the stumble that brought Herman’s hand out to steady her.
“You all right, Miss Sarah?” he asked with real concern.
Bull laughed again. As he came forward, Herman backed away. “She’s just fine,” he said, uncoiling a length of rope. “See, missy, I told Herman he could have you after me.” He ran a finger down her bruised cheek, and she drew away. “But he’s gonna have to watch to see how it’s done.”
Panic overruled rational thought, and Sarah turned to run. Bull caught her easily, laughing as he slipped the rope around her neck. “Did you think I’d let you get away? I want my breakfast, and I want my fun.” He led her by the arm toward the fire. “And then I want to kill River. I reckon he’s been on our trail about an hour by now.”
He left her at the fire and, holding the end of the rope, went to sit on his blanket. He gave the rope a little shake, and Sarah’s bound hands went to her neck. “Everything you’ll need is right there. We got a hankerin’ for some female cookin’. Haven’t we, Herman?”
Sarah didn’t turn to see Herman’s reaction. Her eyes went to the fire and supplies. Part of her wanted to crumple to the ground and give in to the sobs that constricted her throat. In prison she had learned to do what needed to be done while she kept her feelings inside where they were safe. She could do that again. She knelt and shook the coffeepot. It was full of water. As she fumbled through the bag of supplies to find the coffee, Bull gave the rope another shake.
She did her best to ignore it, but her hands trembled as she put the coffee into the grinder, spilling some of the beans on the ground. She was rewarded with another tug on the rope.
“Watch it there,” Bull warned. “See, Herman, I told you she could do it. You can tie a dog to a stake, and he’ll still keep the coons outta the corn.” They laughed. Bull howled like a dog and laughed even harder.
As Sarah ground the roasted beans, she tried to ignore Bull. There had to be a weapon. She reached for the coffeepot and her eyes settled on the fire. She added the grounds to the hot water with shaking hands, while she studied the individual sticks that protruded from the blaze.
“Let’s see what the gal keeps in this cute little box here,” she heard Bull say. She glanced at him to see him open her carved walnut box. The fury at seeing him touch her most precious possession put an end to thoughtful consideration. With a savage cry, she grabbed up a burning branch and hurled it at Bull.
Bull scrambled to his feet, screaming obscenities as he brushed at his burning clothes. Sarah didn’t take time to retrieve the box. She slipped the rope from her neck and headed for the horses as Bull, in a panic, ran blindly around the camp.
Sarah had almost reached the trees when an Indian, moving like a ghost, appeared in front of her. She froze. Unlike the Pawnee she had seen earlier, this man wore a blue army coat and buckskin leggings. His hair hung in two long braids, tied with strips of leather. He stared straight at her, and she wondered why he wasn’t afraid of Gaines and Herman. Oh God! If Gaines was on fire, she had only Herman to protect her from this Indian.
At that moment, Gaines’s screams ended abruptly. Sarah felt the hairs on her neck
prickle. She turned slowly to discover Indians all around. Her initial horror was slowly replaced with an odd feeling of relief. If they kill us, River will be safe.
Bull’s pistol was lying on the ground beside Herman. He seemed to take a second to consider before lifting it and firing. His hands were shaking, and the shot went wild. Sarah jumped at the sound, thinking too late that she should have used that second to run. She started to back away from the blue-coated Indian but a strange vibrating sound brought her around in time to see Herman topple backward, an arrow in his throat. He made strange gurgling sounds that were so horrible Sarah found herself sinking to the ground.
* * *
River judged he had been riding for two and a half, maybe three hours since dawn when the pinto pricked his ears. He pulled to a stop, and the black danced sideways. Sitting still, he listened to the sounds around him. After a moment, birds that had been startled by his presence resumed their conversations. But something was bothering the horses.
He swung from the pinto’s back, rifle in hand. He looked ahead where the trail would lead him into a thin stand of pine and tried to guess where Bull might be waiting.
It seemed odd. Ahead a few miles the country turned to rocks and cliffs that would surely suit Bull’s purposes better than this. But perhaps Bull didn’t know that, or was counting on catching River before he became wary of an ambush.
He tied the horses and walked cautiously into the trees, keeping himself far to the right of the trail. Ten yards into the trees he stopped short. In front of him was a perfect moccasin print.
Fear for Sarah seemed to stop his heart. What dangers had Bull put her in? He cursed himself for not leaving Bull and his companions with their broken wagon on the riverbank.
He moved in the direction the Indian had gone, though he didn’t see a second track. Within minutes he found the camp...and the bodies.
Cassandra Austin Page 22
