“I do not wish for your congratulations. I wish for my woman to be returned to me and for us to be allowed to leave in peace.”
“You may take any one of the hostages and make your escape back to your people. But you cannot have the woman you request.”
Trevor’s fists clenched and unclenched rapidly and silently Serena was trying to convey to him to stay calm. One man was hard enough. Trevor could be killed instantly if the handful of skilled warriors around him decided he deserved to die for killing one of their friends.
“We agreed that I was fighting for the woman you have tied up over there.” Trevor pointed towards her and looked in her direction and, for a moment, their eyes met. She saw deep remorse cross his face, and then he turned back to the warrior that had given her so much trouble since she had been kidnapped.
The warrior shook his head. “The only agreement was that if you win you get to kill the warrior you were fighting. And you’ve already done that. I’m offering you the chance to take back one of your hostages tonight. But not the one that belongs to me. She is very strong, that one. She will make a good bride.”
Serena closed her eyes, unable to stop the tears that seeped under her lashes. They had no intention of releasing her. Now or ever.
Then Trevor’s voice broke the silence once again. “I will fight as many warriors as you order me to fight until you turn over the woman. She belongs to me. I claimed her as mine before she was kidnapped.”
“Are you telling me she isn’t pure? She is a used woman?”
Serena’s eyes snapped open and she stared back at Trevor, terrified. If he said yes, they could possibly release her and send them on their way. Or they could take him prisoner and torture him, too. Or they could kill them both.
If he said no, they would certainly take him prisoner and put him through some type of hell that she didn’t want to imagine. But Trevor was an honest man, as far as she could tell. And from the look on his face, she knew he was struggling with an answer.
“No,” he spoke softly. “She is a pure woman. But she belongs to me.”
The large warrior’s face split into a smile. “You think she belongs to you just because you say it is so?” He moved closer towards Trevor. “It is the same thing for all of your people—you claim everything is yours. The land is yours. The animals are yours. You believe the sky and air is yours as well. You take and take, but you return nothing.”
Trevor kept his stance strong. “I agree with you. I believe we all deserve freedom and the beauty around us. I am sorry for what you’ve gone through at the hands of white men. I wish I could take away the crimes of my brothers against you.”
“You lie! All you people do is lie.” His right fist swung from out of nowhere and struck Trevor hard in the jaw, sending him staggering backwards.
He straightened and raised his fists, ready to fight the man. “What is your name, great warrior?” Trevor asked as he moved around him, his body looking relaxed.
Serena wanted to cry as she saw him waver some. The sudden strike from the warrior had been a hard one, and she knew he was in pain.
“They call me Strong Tree. Are you sure you want to fight me?”
“No,” Trevor answered immediately. “I don’t want to fight you. I want to find some type of peace that will allow me to bring her home with me.”
“It will not happen. But I like the way you fight. You provide good entertainment. I will confess to you that we have a few Comanche that have taken the incorrect steps along our way. And you could help me solve that problem.”
Trevor hesitated in his movements. “You aren’t making any sense.”
“Good,” Strong Tree said and swung hard with his left fist, but Trevor moved quickly to block him. Strong Tree swung from the other fist and Trevor was able to block that one as well. He grabbed a hold of Strong Tree’s arms and used them to brace himself so he could lift himself and kick him directly in the chest.
Strong Tree grunted and stumbled backwards, and several of his men pressed forward to assist him. But he gestured for them to step away. Trevor swung a hard fist at Strong Tree and it was a solid contact.
Serena’s heart was pounding. Trevor was playing with fire. She had no idea how vicious Strong Tree could be, but she had witnessed personally the extent of cruelty they were capable of. The images of the attack on Victoria would be burned into her mind forever.
She watched Strong Tree swing again and his fist drove hard into Trevor’s jaw. Serena was proud of him for never using the blade at any point of the attack. But this final blow proved to be too much for him and he crumbled to the ground.
“No,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Dear God, please no.” But it was not to be. They picked up Trevor and threw him over the back of one of the horses. Then he ordered everyone to put out their fires and break camp. Trevor had been taken prisoner.
Chapter Twenty-Two
So this is what hell feels like. The pain in his head felt as if someone was trying to saw through his skull. He was moving, but he couldn’t quite figure out how. The rocking motion was making him ill to his stomach. And there was something hard pressing into his abdomen as well. The foot of Satan is burning through my stomach as he watches me squirm in pain.
He opened his eyes slowly and was shocked to see dirt and dried grass passing just beneath him. This wasn’t what he had pictured hell to look like. Then he heard a horse snort and heard people talking around him.
It all seemed muffled, and everything seemed to have a hazy or blurred quality about it. How had he gotten into such a scrape? The language was unfamiliar, yet somehow it reminded him of something.
Serena.
As soon as the image of her tied to the posts rushed into his mind he remembered everything that had happened and the difficult fight he’d been in where he had killed a Comanche. They’ve taken me prisoner! The realization hit him hard and fast. He had come to save Serena, and instead he’d gotten himself into a difficult situation and was now a hostage. This was not how he had planned for things to play out. Then again, he hadn’t expected things to go smoothly, either.
The Comanche were known for the cruelty and for their desire to inflict pain upon the “white man” that had stolen their land from them. So he had known, even as he had ridden as hard as fast as he could to get to her, that the Comanche could very well kill him just for attempting to rescue one of their hostages.
But it was a risk worth taking. For Serena, he would always take any risk necessary to have her returned to his arms. The feeling struck him hard, a feeling he hadn’t acknowledged before, and he didn’t know what to do with it. For the time being, he needed to focus more on how to get free and get to Serena.
Before she became Strong Tree’s wife.
The thought was another agonizing twist in the stomach. He couldn’t let that happen. Was she strong enough to survive among the Comanche? Undoubtedly. Was it the right place for her? Absolutely not. She was even more free-spirited than the Comanche. As soon as they tried to tie her down, she would run, and they’d never see her again, even if they hunted for her. Perhaps that was the reason they were trying so hard to break her. But she wouldn’t break. She was far too strong and, at the moment, he prayed she hadn’t forgotten it.
He attempted to turn his head, even though it nearly killed him with the pain radiating through his skull. Towards the back of the group rode Serena, mixed with the hostages and some of the squaws. She sat with her shoulders straight and her face determined, even though it had turned black and blue as the swelling had gone down. He could make out more of her features now, and he loved being able to see her again.
Briefly he wondered what he looked like. When he tried to open his mouth, it felt as if someone had wired his jaw shut, and the slightest motion against it was agonizing. But he could open it, which meant it wasn’t broken, or, at least, that was what he hoped. He could tell his left eye was puffy as it was hard to see out of that one. And it felt like it had been years s
ince he had held a drop of water in his mouth.
They were moving at a rapid pace, and he had foreboding sense of doom. They were on the hunt. And that meant another town was about to go down. His mind raced to think of where they could be headed next at such a rapid pace. When it clicked in his head a cold sweat broke out over his body. Linnville. They were headed for Linnville, the port town that was thriving with goods and products bound for further inland all the way to the states. And it also thrived with people, hard-working people, who had no idea what was about to descend upon them.
He tried to straighten some, and realized the pain stabbing into his stomach were the withers of a horse. He was slung over one, as they would do to a dead man, and he quickly lowered his head back down, as it was even more painful in the other position. If he could, he would have slid off the horse and dashed for cover, with the idea being that none of the Indians would see him. But that was desperation speaking, not his usual, calm demeanor.
Serena wasn’t in immediate danger. They would have to stop and regroup at some time in order to get ready for the raid. And at that time, he could calculate his surroundings and identify what he could do. He was going to have to escape first. Because, for now, there was no chance he could get to Serena without the large warrior ordering Trevor’s execution. And, based on their rules, there were no marriages during a raid. She would be safe for another night or two. Safe from marriage, but not safe from the squaws.
He looked back at her again and he saw the corners of her lips lift in a slight smile directed towards him. His heart was suddenly in his throat and he was having a hard time swallowing. She still had her spirit. She still had her strength. They could not break her.
Early on the morning of August eighth, the Comanche descended upon an unsuspecting Linnville, their screeches and hollers echoing in the air. Men, women, and children all ran, though some not quite fast enough. There were men working in the fields that they ran down without care, destroying their bodies by their horses’ trampling hooves even after the person was already dead.
The hostages had been held back, ordered to watch what happened to the “greedy white man” to pay for his sins against the Comanche. The Indians that had stayed back were the squaws and the younger ones who couldn’t yet go on the raids, though the hunger to do so was in their eyes, making Trevor’s heart sad. They thought they were putting an end to the Comanche war. But it would take a miracle before that would finally happen.
As they watched, he slowly, slowly eased himself off of his horse, inch-by-agonizing-inch, praying that no one would see his movements. By the time his feet hit the ground he was dripping sweat. But no one had raised an alarm—yet—and he was going to take full advantage of what little time he had. Quickly he moved under his horse, then flattened himself to the ground, and ever so slowly made his way to a grouping of trees. Too long. Too long! They are going to spot me, and I’m going to be nailed to the spot by arrows any minute.
Frequently, squaws were just as good with a bow and arrow as their mates. And he couldn’t take any chances, especially since this was his last opportunity to bring help for Serena and the other captives. He knew exactly where they were heading, and he was going to make sure they were stopped.
He was in a state of disbelief when he made it to the trees. He glanced back briefly as he stood in the shadows, and all the Indians were whooping and cheering the warriors as they conquered Linnville. Trevor wished Serena would look at him, but he saw that the squaw with the claw marks down her face was forcefully holding Serena’s chin, making her watch the devastation unfold down the hill from them.
His hands curled into fists. He didn’t want to leave her, but he had no choice. She was constantly surrounded by squaws, and the future chief had claimed her to be his bride. She was constantly being watched. But that wouldn’t last much longer.
He had been fortunate enough that some of the horses had broken free from the chaos and had run up the hill. One of the younger Comanche boys was trying to gather all of them, but Trevor got ahold of one without drawing any attention, swung on and kicked it into a flat out run.
He rode nonstop, pushing the horse as fast as it could run. It wasn’t until midday the next day that he was drawn up short by one of the sentries, and he held up his hands, nearly falling off the horse in exhaustion. The sentry approached him slowly, demanding what his business was.
Trevor’s throat was so parched he couldn’t get the words out clearly. “I’m Captain Daniels,” he said, but it came out more like a whisper.
“Speak up!” the sentry ordered loudly, keeping his rifle aimed at him.
Trevor didn’t know what he could do. Suddenly, he remembered and dug into his pocket and pulled out his badge, and the sentry, still just a boy, lowered his gun slightly. “Captain Daniels? Is that you?”
Trevor nodded fiercely and promptly fell off the horse. The kid ran up to him quickly. “Sir, you’re hurt! Let me ride back for help—”
“No, no,” Trevor whispered, then made a motion for the boy’s canteen. As if having sudden clarity, the boy handed the canteen to Trevor, and he drained it in a few large gulps. “Take me to the camp. I know where they are going.”
The boy was hesitant, but they took off on his horse, allowing the one Trevor had been riding to graze in the meadow where Trevor had dropped. The horse was short but stout, and even though Trevor thought his feet were going to touch the ground as they raced along, they made good time. They came upon the group within only a handful of minutes.
Trevor slid off the horse before it had made a complete stop and walked towards Logan who had ordered the group to halt. “Good God, man, what happened to you? And where is Serena?”
“The Comanche is the answer to both of those questions. I need a fresh horse. And we need to alter our course a little. I’m fairly certain I know where they will be going next.”
“Word has reached us of help coming from the west,” Ryder announced as he rode up. He looked Trevor up and down with a raised eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything.
“Do you know their location? How close are they to Linnville?”
“Not very far. They have already encountered a couple of skirmishes with some of the Indians out scouting. But they didn’t get close enough to the other Indians to get a real idea of the size or force we are dealing with,” Logan answered.
“Linnville? They’ve taken Linnville?” Ryder asked.
“I was able to escape from them while they raided the town. There was nothing to be done. But if we have reinforcements coming from the west, and we box them in, they’ll have nowhere to run.”
“Escape them?”
“He’ll tell us once he has a horse,” Logan replied, firing up a cigarette and folding his arms over his chest, watching Trevor closely. “You couldn’t save her? Or is she already gone? Hell, maybe that’s the same question.”
Watching Logan puff on the cigarette reminded Trevor of the first time he had ever met Serena, and a longing grew in him. A longing to hold her, to smell her strawberries and cream hair, to kiss her. He forced his mind off the images running through his mind. Though he enjoyed those images far more than the ones of her bound and tied, her body savagely beaten.
“One of their higher-ranking warriors has claimed her as his. He intends to make her his wife.”
Cade and Lorenzo rode up just as Trevor made his announcement, and both of their faces turned red in anger. “The hell they will!” Cade fumed.
Logan turned in his saddle to look at them, the picture of calm patience. “It’s actually a good thing. Once she has been claimed, no other warrior can even come close to her. She will be put through different challenges, and her life will be very uncomfortable. But they will not wed them during a raid. Or when they are trying to flee the law. A wedding in any Indian culture is very sacred and has much symbolism to it.”
“So what exactly are you saying? She’s being tormented but she isn’t being raped?” Lorenzo asked harshly.
/> Logan shrugged. “If you want to be blunt about it.”
Trevor felt light-headed. This was more arguing than he needed at the moment. And his head still ached from the giant punch the warrior had landed to his jaw. “Time is important. Once I have a fresh horse...”
The sentry who had brought him back came walking up, leading a tall dark stallion, such a dark brown it was nearly black.
Trevor smiled at the boy, though he knew he was probably seventeen or eighteen, hardly a boy any longer. “What’s your name?”
“Evan, sir.”
“Thank you, Evan. Now return to your post, also with a fresh horse. Things are going to start happening quickly now, so be on the watch for Indians, more so now than ever.”
Evan nodded solemnly and took off, leaving Trevor back under the scrutiny of Logan, Ryder, Cade, and Lorenzo. “Ride with me,” he growled, and he mounted quickly before taking off at a slow canter, trying to moderate their pace, now knowing that there was a force from the west coming to their aid. They could have their clash any day now. The sooner, the better. Because the first thing he was going for was Serena.
They didn’t tie her to the posts. For some reason they allowed her to sit on the ground, still on the outer circle of the fire, cutting her off from its warmth and comfort. But she was so grateful to be able to stretch slightly and not be constricted by all of her binds, she could care less about the comfort of the fire.
She had seen Trevor earlier when they had him hanging over the horse, the same she had been the first day after they had captured her. But after that day, she hadn’t seen him anywhere. And her heart ached. It would have been virtually impossible for him to escape. So there was only one other answer.
While she was surrounded by the Comanche, she held a brave face and the women still tried to break her, slapping her, spitting on her, and pulling her hair. But late at night, after everyone had fallen asleep, she let her silent tears fall, mourning a man that had made her feel like a woman for the first time in her entire life. He had made her feel special, as if she was different than anyone else in the world. And he was a good man, out for justice for everyone. It was her fault he was dead. He had risked his life to rescue the hostages, but she knew he had probably asked for her. And that was why they had punished him.
Texas Heat Page 22
