She fought and struggled, all to no avail. He took her with swift and deliberate coldness. He sought to appease his great hunger within her resisting body. He sought to salve his hurt pride with the sounds of her cries and pleas. White Arrow heard this tormenting punishment, but he did not interfere. She was already inspiring doubts and pity within his own weakening heart!
At last it was over. He had punished both of them, more deeply than he realized. He was quick to realize his release had only been a physical one, an almost painful deliverance into her helpless body. He was made aware of the great difference between rape and heated lovemaking, of the pleasure and satisfaction which had been denied to him, of the sacrifice of blissful contentment which normally followed their fiery unions. He was plagued by a feeling of frustration and incompleteness which he did not comprehend or accept.
Gray Eagle watched the tears of humiliating, painful defeat which eased from her closed eyes and rolled down her temples into her hair. Her whole body quivered in anguish. Moonlight bathed her ivory skin. Her tangled hair spread upon the ground around her head, exposing soft shoulders. He suddenly stiffened.
For the first time, he noticed the healed knife wound upon her left shoulder. If it had not been for her long hair, he would have seen it sooner. He gingerly touched it, checking its age and depth. Noting the extent of the repaired injury and the evidence of its drastic treatment, he surmised she was lucky to be alive. Irrational fury and relief flooded him.
“Who did this thing?” he questioned her, tapping the scar.
She did not reply. “Who dared to place his weapon within your body? Answer me!” he shouted angrily, acutely aware of how close he had come to losing her to death, losing her before he could reclaim what was rightfully his alone.
She opened her misty eyes and glared at him. He was questioning her as if nothing had just taken place between them. He was guilty of placing the most deadly weapon within her body: his love. “What do you care?” she sneered through tight lips.
“Tell me who has dared this insult, or I will…” He hesitated as he pondered a logical threat.
She answered for him, “Or you will what, Great Warrior! Kill me? Lash me again? Destroy my freedom? Kill my family and friends? Burn my home? Enslave me? Rape me? There is nothing more you can do to me or take from me! Carry out your savage revenge. I do not care,” she vowed in utter despair.
“Who did this thing?” he persisted, his dark eyes blazing with anger. He refused to let her up or to move from her body.
Desperate to end his contact with her, she declared coldly, “A white trapper, and I killed him for it! Just as I will kill you if you ever touch me again…”
“You killed him?” he repeated in astonishment.
She would tell him no more. No matter what he said or did, she remained silent and stubborn. When he appeared to halt his futile badgering, she scoffed contemptuously, “If you are quite done with my body, then get off of me!”
He slowly pulled on his clothes and returned to the campfire. From White Arrow’s sheepish look, it was evident he knew what had taken place between them. Yet, Gray Eagle did not realize he was beginning to feel pangs of guilt and remorse at her excessive punishments.
Alisha silently stepped into the chilly water to remove the traces of his most humiliating and most tormenting punishment of all. Afterwards, she knelt beside the river and prayed for her abused body and tormented soul. She placed some of the blame for this new agony upon her own head, for she had encouraged his brutal ravishment. She had actually wanted his love and touch!
She slipped her garments onto her still wet body. Her long hair was damp at the edges. Beads of cool water dotted her flesh, quickly joined by chill bumps and an icy tinge. Her teeth began to chatter. Still, she did not move or weep. Agony ripped through her mind and body at this betrayal, this farewell to love.
A cozy blanket dropped around her trembling shoulders. She grabbed it and threw it back at him, violently declaring, “I want nothing from you! Nothing! Not food, nor shelter, nor protection, nor kindness…not even mercy! Because of you, I have nothing… I am nothing! I hate you! I was a blind fool to save your miserable life and to…”
Her tirade ceased; her line of vision returned to the dark water. Without a word, Gray Eagle dropped the blanket beside her and returned to the fire. It was very late when Alisha finally went to her sleeping mat. Yet, the entire night passed without any sleep for either of them. Her anguish prevented her sleepy solace; new pangs of guilt denied him his. White Arrow’s furtive gaze went from one tormented friend to the other; yet, she had begun the emotional landslide which none of them could control. It was heart-rending to recall the beautiful mountain of love which Alisha had for some mysterious reason destroyed.
Later that second week, the eerie mood had finally gone beyond endurance for either of them. In her distant mood, she had played the role of servant to him. Yet, the tension between them mounted higher each day. White Arrow could see another explosion in the making, but was helpless to prevent it.
Returned from hunting, Gray Eagle tossed a bloody, beheaded rabbit into her hands. She instinctively caught it. He then handed her a once shiny hunting knife with blood still dripping from its long, thick blade. The scarlet fluid pooled in her palm and began to slide between her slender fingers. The suppressed horrors and fears of the recent past surfaced and thundered through her weary mind.
Her face lost its healthy glow. She stared at the blood on her hands; she watched as it began to run down her arm. She suddenly dropped the rabbit into the dirt. She slowly stood up, still clutching the accusatory weapon. She began to shudder. Her eyes glazed as she was gripped by memory.
Alisha was shaking so violently that the knife fell from her slippery grasp. Still, she continued to stare at her bloody hands, as if trapped in some state of unseen hell. She began to back away. Her head began to move from side to side, denying some hidden truth. Her hands began to tremble with such force that she could not halt them. She abruptly balled them into tight fists as one lone and agonizing word was torn from the very depths of her tormented soul: “No-o-o-o-o…”
She whirled and fled this unseen evil which haunted her. Unaware of direction or purpose, she simply ran and ran. Gray Eagle was instantly after her. When he overtook her, she fought him like a crazed person. She babbled incoherently; she cried and laughed simultaneously in frightening hysterics.
For a time, he could not reach her. He tried everything: shouts, threats, shakings, slaps. Finally, he kissed her. At first she did not even comprehend his demanding mouth upon hers. They fell to the ground during their struggle. He captured her face between his strong hands and forcefully parted her lips with his own. His powerful frame pinned her thrashing body to the hard ground. But it was another man who was painfully kissing her lips; it was another man who had her trapped beneath him…
Unable to relive that agony again, she gave herself over to the threatening, merciful darkness. She went limp beneath him, never once responding to his kiss.
He lifted his head and worriedly gazed down into her ashen face. It was a long time before her breathing returned to normal, even longer before he could waken her. Disturbed by this strange behavior, he picked her up and carried her to the stream. He splashed cold water into her face. When Alisha did not come to, he fretted over her alarming condition. He fretted until she began to thrash around upon the grass and call for help, help from her treacherous liberator Powchutu.
Blind jealousy and renewed fury raced into his body. She dared to call the name of her lover rather than that of her own husband! She sat up and looked around, her panicked eyes darting in search of some chimeric danger. Still mentally confused and frantic, she moved to the edge of the stream. She began to rub her dusty hands together. She scrubbed and scrubbed.
“The blood won’t come off, Powchutu! I had to kill him! He deserved to die! They were going to rape me! He killed my baby! Don’t you see, Powchutu; I had to kill him,” she rante
d from her other world.
“Who did you kill, Alisha?” he gently probed, hoping to learn some hidden secret while she was existing in limbo.
“The trapper who attacked us and killed my baby,” she replied in a strange, void tone which had been brought on by her emotional and physical exhaustion.
“You killed him with my knife?” he continued softly, not wanting to alert her to her unwitting confession.
“It was his knife. I stole it from him while he was hurting me. My baby… the pains hurt so bad… I can feel my baby dying…I slit his filthy throat! Blood everywhere…wash it off, Powchutu. Shot! No… help me, Powchutu! So much blood and pain…” She went rigid; her eyes blinked.
Struggling to control his volatile hatred and jealousy, he inquired, “Where is Powchutu now?”
“Dead… I killed him…” she stated, stunning him. He stared at her.
“You killed him!” he shouted before thinking. “Why run away with him, then murder him?” he thundered.
The hypnotic spell broken by his loud voice, Alisha gazed up at him in fear and in confusion. She could not recall what had taken place or what she had confessed to him. “I must fix the rabbit,” she stated in distracted turmoil, aware of her curious mental lapse.
“Why did you kill Powchutu?” he stormed at her.
She met his piercing, insistent stare. “What are you talking about? He was killed in an accident months ago. I suppose I am to blame for allowing him to help me, but I did not kill him! Why would you think I had? He was the only friend and family I had left. You destroyed everything else,” she charged, without emotion.
“What happened to the child, Alisha?” he unexpectedly asked, his eyes cold and hard.
Her face paled. “How could you possibly know about the baby? I didn’t…” She halted and stared at him as if he had just revealed some hidden clue to a vital puzzle, the missing piece which gave reason for all the others to connect. “Powchutu said you would never accept a half-breed child. Knowing about the baby, you still… I had not believed even you could be so bloodthirsty and savage… to wish the death of an innocent child, a firstborn son.”
“For certain, the next child will be mine,” he casually informed her of his intentions.
“Next child! But if you did not want the first one, why would you try for another one?” It was his turn to be shocked, but only temporarily. He deduced her words to be a cruel taunt.
“This will be my first-born son,” he vowed coldly, wondering if she would have dared to pass off another man’s child as his.
She assumed his mysterious words to be some kind of joke or test. She was not up to his spiteful games. He could not possibly take her back to his camp, not after telling everyone she was dead. Somewhere between here and there, he would eliminate her.
She returned to camp and prepared the rabbit which White Arrow had cleaned during her lengthy absence. After a tasty dinner for the men, she cleared away the remains of their meal and went to lie upon her sleeping mat.
These new facts troubled her deeply. She could not predict his actions or even understand him at all. What new deceit was he planning for her? Taking her home with him? Forcing her to bear his child?
Child… that meant… Alisha hastily dismissed the implication of that threat. Only time could reveal what new fate she must endure.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Are you sure about those facts, Moses?” Joe shouted in astonishment, then fearfully added, “Paul dead, and Alisha married to Gordon?”
“Yep!” Moses replied steadily, unaware of the impact of his shocking announcements upon his old friend, ignorant of Alisha’s importance to Joe.
“Shame, too. I heard Gordon is tied up with them river pirates and that ornery Frenchy. Looked like a real nice gurl to me. Bloody shame about her brother being such a bad’un,” he remarked, rubbing his scraggly beard.
“Take my word, Moses, neither of those two youngsters are bad. I know ’em both, friends of mine. From what I know, Alisha would never marry the likes of Jeffery Gordon. As for Paul, he couldn’t do anything like you described. Somebody’s up to no good down there. If I had to take bets, I’ll lay my money on Gordon. I’d wager he got rid of Paul in order to get at Alisha. Can’t understand why she didn’t send me some word about this. I told her to send for you if she needed to get word to me.”
“Could be she didn’t have the chance. I left right after delivering those bodies. Been up North aways since then.”
“That explains it. Poor girl. She’s probably at her wit’s end wondering where I am. I best get to St. Louis as fast as I can. If Gordon’s harmed her, I’ll kill ’im! Thanks for the news, Moses. You think you can close up here for me and bring my furs into the settlement? I’ll pay you for your trouble and time,” he entreated.
“Aw, Joe. Course I’ll take care of things for ye. Don’t you worry none. I’ll be right on yore tail. As fur payment, ya could buy me a nice bottle of that Irish whiskey, if you’d a mind to,” he added with a chuckle.
Within an hour, they had Moses’ horse loaded and ready to head out. Joe knew all of the trails in the entire area. With luck and persistence, he could make the settlement within eight or nine days of hard riding. All he could think about was Alisha alone and vulnerable, Alisha still suffering from recent ill fortune, Alisha forced into marriage with Gordon. He determined to get her away from him as quickly as possible. He could only hope that the months of marriage to Gordon had not taken a terrible toll on her. If so, he would kill Gordon with his bare hands….
Powchutu dead…the thought kept returning to haunt him as he travelled along. No matter how suspicious he had been of the scout, one thing for certain was his love and loyalty to Alisha. The death scene which Moses had vividly described to him was utterly impossible. He dreaded to put together the pieces of this puzzle.
Joe urged his horse into a faster gait, but quickly recognized the sheer folly of such speed. If the horse came up lame, he would never arrive any time soon. He cautioned himself to patience. If Alisha had already been married to him for months, what harm could a few more days do?
The trip took longer than anticipated. Swollen streams from melted spring snows hindered several crossings, forcing him to continue up river to another ford. The trip required twelve days overland to make the outskirts of St. Louis. Upon his arrival, Joe promptly headed for Hiram Bigsley’s, assuming the merchant would have the latest word concerning her health and whereabouts. Joe decided to secure the facts first, then head over to Gordon’s. He dismounted before the large mercantile store and hurried inside. He was immediately shown into Hiram’s private office.
He paced the floor as he waited for Hiram to return from a late lunch. Eventually he did come in. He smiled genially and grasped Joe’s outstretched hand. Before he could open the conversation, Joe rushed ahead with the sole reason for his early and empty-handed arrival.
“Where’s Alisha, Hiram? How is she? Moses said she married Gordon. Is that true?” he inquired, hoping there was some mistake.
Noting Joe’s great agitation and fear, Hiram hesitated to answer his questions. He decided to begin slowly and painlessly. “She did marry Gordon back in mid-January. I gave her away at the wedding. Grandest thing this town’s ever seen. She was absolutely breathtaking.”
Ignoring Hiram’s chatter about the fancy wedding and large party, Joe heatedly declared, “Heard Paul was killed. What happened, Hiram? Moses told me what they claimed, but that ain’t like the Paul I know. Somebody’s lying!”
Knowing both tales, Hiram gave them to Joe. Joe thought it strange to have two accounts of the same accident. Hiram told him that one was made up for Alisha’s benefit, by Gordon. From what facts Hiram knew, it was evident that Jeffery had forced her to marry him. Joe felt his greatest fears were coming true.
“Start from the beginning, Hiram. Tell me everything you know,” Joe demanded, wanting to have all of the facts.
Hiram began with Alisha’s arrival on Christma
s Eve. He listed the gossip which concerned her or Paul. When he could no longer stall the inevitable truth, he met Joe’s keen gaze and finished his woeful narrative.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Joe. About two weeks ago, somebody killed Gordon and burned his house to the very ground. They don’t know if Alisha was in the house or not. Mrs. Webster said she was about to go to bed when she left there earlier. From what she told me, that was Alisha’s first day up and out; she said Alisha’d been ill. Anyway, Alisha hasn’t been seen or heard of since that fire. If she did get out alive, God only knows where she is now,” he stated sadly.
“You think she might have been responsible for the fire? From what I hear, Gordon’s an evil man,” Joe felt forced to seek another opinion of his one hope for her survival.
Hiram seriously considered his suggestion. “I don’t think so. I ruled out the river pirates being to blame; Gordon was rumored to be their boss. Weren’t no strangers in town that week either. If she did set the fire and kill him, no one would have blamed her! If she got out, she would’ve come to me for help. I do know she was afraid of him. But kill him? Naw…” He went on to tell Joe about her strange meeting in his office with Mary O’Hara.
Joe sank into a nearby chair, feeling physically ill and dazed by his bad timing: two weeks too late! “She can’t be dead, Hiram. She was to wait for me here. She knew I was coming soon. She wouldn’t have run away. All three of them dead! Something’s wrong… Think she might’ve been kidnapped by the killer?” He reached for one last ray of hope.
“There was only one set of tracks leaving the house, Joe, a man’s bootprints. From the size and depth of them, a big man. There was only one horse used, too. Looks like he headed West, but we lost his trail in the thickets not far out of town.”
“A big man heading West…” he repeated Hiram’s last clue without grasping the significance of it.
Forbidden Ecstasy Page 40
