Thoughts of the man burning alive inside filled her with regret, and she sobbed. But what was she supposed to have done, let him abuse and brutally rape her? A movement in the open doorway caught her eye. Horrified, she saw her tormentor crawl on all fours from the blaze and onto the porch. He was covered in soot, and his hair was singed off. What skin was visible was a beefy red—whether from burns or the heat, she couldn’t be sure. His eyes found her in the yard before he coughed and sputtered out one final menacing statement. “Yer gonna die, bitch.” That threat was his last words before he collapsed on the porch.
Janelle watched as he lay there, unmoving. She couldn’t tell if he was still alive or not. Inching closer, she debated whether to leave him, or pull his body into the yard. A crashing ceiling beam behind him made her act. Rushing up the stairs, she grabbed his singed shirt and pulled him down the steps, dropping him face first into the grass at the bottom. Flipping him over, she checked for a pulse. It was faint, and he was still breathing.
“That’s it asshole. I don’t owe you anything else. You’re on your own from here.” With that, she wrapped the singed blanket around her nakedness and turned in the direction of the Jackson ranch… Or so she thought.
Chapter Eighteen
They arrived at the cabin just as the hands were extinguishing the last of the flames. The foundation was all that remained of the one-hundred-year-old cabin, which now was a smoldering pile of cinder and ash. As Aaron dismounted and crossed the clearing to join his brothers, Jamie Jessup’s words ran coldly through him as he approached.
“I hope a mountain lion eats the crazy bitch fer supper. She knocked my balls clear up into my throat.” Coughing continually, he sputtered and wheezed as he spoke.
“She pulled your sorry ass from a burning building, you useless piece of shit.” Heath growled.
“Yeah. She didn’t owe you a damn thing after you kidnapped her and then tried to rape her, you four-flushing maggot.”
Hearing that, Aaron went berserk. His control broke, and he pushed through the wall of his brothers, grabbing the whining man by his collar and slamming him into the tree behind him.
“Where is she, asshole? If you’ve hurt her, your fucking balls are the least of your worries. I’ll rip them and your tiny prick from your body and shove them down your damn throat.”
“I don’t know!” he squealed like a piglet as he quaked in fear. “She was gone when I woke up. I swear!”
Aaron’s fingers tightened around the smaller man’s throat, and he squeezed. “What did you do to her, Jessup?”
He could only sputter and gasp for air.
“Ease up, Aaron.” Strong hands on each arm couldn’t break his grip. “If you kill him now, we won’t learn anything about Janelle.” Heath’s voice in his ear broke through the red haze of his rage and brought Aaron down a bit, enough for reason to return, and he relaxed his hold.
“Thank my brother for the reprieve, Jessup. Because when I find my wife, if you’ve harmed a single hair on her head, I’ll be coming for you. And once I’ve shoved your useless dick down your throat, I’ll be ripping your head off your neck and shoving it up your ass.”
Jamie screamed in terror then pissed himself as he fainted. Dropping his limp body to the ground in disgust, he was instantly forgotten as Aaron turned to his brothers. “What else do we know?”
“Evidently, Janelle pulled him to safety before she took off. We’ve got men searching for her now.”
“It’s turning cold and supposed to rain tonight. She’ll freeze.” Aaron began to pace in agitation, one big hand rubbing the back of his neck as his mind raced, inundated with images of his cold, helpless, terrified wife lost on the mountain. “Any idea what she was wearing? If she had any supplies with her, or a weapon? She’s helpless out there. The woman has no survival skills, and I seriously doubt if she knows how to start a fire.”
Heath and Luke looked at each other in silent communication. Aaron noticed and knew that look, had used it himself a hundred times. They were withholding.
“What?”
They hesitated.
“Tell me goddammit!”
“She had a blanket, we know.” Heath offered tentatively before looking at Luke, obviously concerned about Aaron’s reaction to the rest of the news.
“Brother, keep it together for the rest. She didn’t have any shoes…” Luke said. Aaron’s face went rigid with fear for her. Shoeless in the woods at night was bad, but Luke’s next words were worse. “Or clothes. Jessup stripped her naked.”
The agonizing growl that emanated from him next was the sound of a wounded grizzly. It took both Heath and Luke, plus two of the hands, to keep him from killing the unconscious Jamie Jessup. Henry, who had just arrived, was in time to hear the tail end of the story. Walking up to Aaron, he clamped his hands around his son’s head and looked into eyes exactly like his own. His calm, even authoritative tone penetrated his son’s fury.
“Aaron! You have to calm down and be strong for her, son. Janelle needs you right now.”
Sucking in several deep breaths, he nodded, indicating he was back in control. The men released him cautiously, and when he didn’t attack Jessup, breathed a collective sigh of relief and backed off.
“I brought Whitefeather with me to help, son.” Henry offered a small glimmer of hope. “He’s the best tracker we have. If she’s out there, he’ll find her.”
They all turned, watching expectantly as Joseph Whitefeather moved around the clearing, already searching for signs of Janelle’s trail. Born of a Shoshone mother, he’d been raised by his father, a white man who lived in town. Joseph had spent summers with his mother’s family, learning to trap, hunt, and track prey. Folks said he could find a lost kitten in the Mohave Desert. To Aaron, he was a comfort in the nightmarish turn his life had taken in the last 24 hours, because Janelle may have well been that kitten. Being a naked, city gal from the future in this vast acreage of forest was not much different.
The same age, Aaron and Joseph were friends and had attended school together. Whitefeather had worked for the Jackson family for the past three years, and Aaron trusted him implicitly and knew the skill he possessed. When he suddenly paused and crouched low to the ground, Aaron rushed to him.
“Did you find something?”
“Fresh blood, Aaron. Your woman’s injured, but that is going to help us find her more quickly.”
Aaron grunted. “I hope you’re right, my friend. I just pray it’s before a wolf, grizzly, or cougar does.”
* * *
It was official. Being lost in the hills of Wyoming, naked, bleeding, cold, and alone sucked big time. In fact, Janelle thought, lately her entire life sucked. How was it fair for all this crap to happen to one person? Pulling the blanket closer around her bare shoulders, she gagged. The smell of wet wool was bad, but charred, wet wool was disgusting. She realized now she should have paid more attention in Girl Scouts when they were working on the outdoors badges. Being a girly-girl, with no brothers and a father who hated camping, her idea of roughing it was a three-day weekend in a second rate hotel that lacked room service with only a partial ocean view. She’d kill for the ‘Flea Bag Inn’ right about now. Limping painfully into a clearing, she slumped down on the ground in exhaustion.
As she lay there, too tired and dehydrated for tears, she realized that Aaron was right. She was impulsive and had no regard whatsoever for her safety. She had no survival skills, no sense of direction, and had taken off without any supplies into the woods at night by herself, twice. Wanting to get away from her would-be rapist so badly, she had foolishly traipsed off naked in the middle of a forest, without any clue where she was going. Most likely if she had stayed by the smoking cabin, someone would have seen the smoke and come to investigate. Stupid fool that she was, if she had stayed put, she would be soaking in a warm tub by now, with a full belly. Instead, she was going to die cold and alone, without ever having told Aaron she loved him and that she was sorry.
A few m
inutes later, Janelle was awakened from her exhausted doze by a dog barking. What was a dog doing out in the middle of the woods alone, she wondered. Maybe it was a hunting dog, and his owner was nearby. She tried to put her lips together and whistle for him, but they were dry and chapped. She called out to him instead.
“Here, boy, I’m over here!”
The barking sounded again, this time a bit closer.
“I’m here! C’mon boy, come find me!”
Thrashing in the woods to her right signaled his approach, and she stiffened. Maybe this was a bad idea. What if he were rabid or wild? Shit! Then, to her utter delight and relief, Aaron’s big yellow lab came bounding into the clearing.
Sobbing at the sight of his familiar furry face, she wrapped her still-bound hands around his neck and laughed as he licked her dirty face. “Champ! Am I ever glad to see you, boy.”
A shrill whistle sounded off in the distance, and he bounded away. Janelle called for him to come back, but he soon disappeared into the trees, leaving her alone again. She listened for more sounds, voices, barks, or whistles—anything that would signal that he hadn’t been a hallucination of her fatigued brain. A soft sob of desperation left her lips as she heard nothing more, which then turned into full body wracking sobs as she broke down, completely beyond her endurance.
Her weeping drowned out the barking as Champ led Heath and Luke into the clearing where she lay exhausted, hopeless, and defeated on the cold, damp ground.
“Aaron, Pa! She’s over here!”
Champ barked and danced around excitedly, leaping toward Janelle, nudging her with his cold nose and licking her with his warm, wet tongue.
Janelle cracked open her eyes and saw her new brothers approaching. Were they another hallucination?
“Janelle!” Aaron’s deep voice penetrated, and she listlessly turned her head in its direction. “Oh, darlin’,” he crooned gently as he pushed past the others and dropped to his knees beside her, stripping off his shirt as he went. “You’re blue from cold,” he cried in alarm as he pulled off the foul smelling, fire-darkened blanket. He enfolded her in his oversized shirt. Luke and Heath offered their shirts as well, which he readily accepted, wrapping both around her before gathering her into his arms. He frowned anxiously down at her as they hurried back to where they’d left their horses.
“We’ve got to get her warm.”
“I’m sorry, Aaron,” she said.
“Hush, baby. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” He didn’t break stride as he spoke. His brothers moved ahead, holding back low hanging tree limbs as they made their way through the dense forest. Janelle shivered uncontrollably, and she pressed closer to Aaron’s bare skin, desperately seeking his body heat. Minutes later, the trees opened up to a narrow dirt path where they had tied their horses. Aaron relinquished his wife’s chilled body to his father while he mounted, quickly reaching down to reclaim her.
“Her feet are frozen, Pa. Get me something to wrap them in.”
Janelle, who was disoriented, was mumbling softly. As Henry pulled off his boots to remove his socks, he watched her with grave concern. A chill such as this could prove deadly. He suspected his son knew that as well. As he pulled the still warm woolen socks over her freezing cold feet, she startled him by opening her eyes and stating randomly, “I won’t go cherry picking no more.”
“What was that, sweetheart?” Henry also removed his shirt and tucked it around her bare legs. He used the long sleeves to tie the material snugly around her legs to keep her covered during their ride. Once finished, he gave Aaron a look of concern, shaking his head over Janelle’s obvious delirium.
“I promise, I won’t go…”
“Quiet, love. Save your strength. We can talk later when we’re home and have you warm and dry.” Aaron’s voice was low and soothing as he tried to comfort her. His anxiety level rose as she continued to shiver, talking out of her head.
“But, Aaron, I need you to know that I remembered and understand now. I won’t cherry pick the rules any more, just please, don’t leave me again, Aaron. I’ll submit to your authority and be a good wife, just please… Don’t leave.” The last words trailed off as she lapsed into unconsciousness.
“Criminy, sweet pea!” The anguish was clear in Aaron’s voice, and his face was wet with tears. She wasn’t as delirious as he’d thought, and although frozen and injured, his words from their argument haunted her. What little control he’d hung onto was now gone. She had shredded it.
“Damn, brother! What’s she talking about? You left her?” Heath’s question was filled with outrage on Janelle’s behalf.
“What the hell, Aaron? Have you lost your mind?” Luke’s anger rang clearly in his raised voice as he demanded an answer.
“I’m certain he has a damn good explanation for this, but that can wait until we get the poor child home. But I’m telling you here and now, Aaron Jackson, if you ever think to leave this sweet little gal again, I’ll take a switch to you myself.” Henry’s message was unmistakable, and his brothers nodded their resolve to assist their Pa, if need be, in whipping some sense into him.
“I’m not going anywhere, Pa. And neither is she.” He met each man’s eyes briefly, his sincerity evidently clear enough for them as they each nodded and backed down. Aaron’s eyes landed on Heath, before moving to Luke. “I need one of you to make sure that the piece of shit who did this to her doesn’t get away.”
Luke promptly turned and headed back into the woods, calling over his shoulder as he quickly moved away. “I’ll be pleased to take care of that personally, little brother. I’m sure the marshal will look the other way if his prisoner arrives in less than prime condition. He’ll be alive, but I can’t swear to how many pieces.”
Aaron nodded, wheeling his horse around with his unconscious wife cradled gently but securely in his arms. His hunger for vengeance was quickly forgotten as his thoughts were consumed with one task—getting Janelle, quickly and safely, back to the ranch.
Chapter Nineteen
Spasms of coughing wracked her body and wrenched her from sleep. Choking and wheezing, she sat up in bed, struggling for air. A strong arm wrapped around her waist to support her as a pounding against her back robbed her of what little air she had left. She collapsed, curling forward as the coughing and pounding ceased simultaneously.
She was laid gently back against her damp pillows, and her eyes cracked open as she stared up into Aaron’s concerned face. His big hand cupped her cheek and brushed her sweat-dampened hair from her face as she weakly watched him. When he turned to the bedside table, she admired his strong, handsome profile, marred only by the dark circles under his eyes and the worry lines bracketing his mouth. Had he been sick?
A cool cloth replaced his hands, and she sighed in contentment, turning her face into the soothing coolness. Letty’s voice drifted softly into the room. “Any change?”
“No, she’s still burning up with fever. I don’t want Doc back in here Ma. He’s not going to bleed her. She’s weak enough already.”
Bleed her? What the…? Rolling her head toward Aaron, she whispered hoarsely, “My purse.”
“Janelle? What is it?”
“In my purse… Motrin.” Those few words consumed what little strength she had left, and she slipped back into unconsciousness.
* * *
A cool hand against her forehead, slowly sliding down her cheek gently, awakened her.
Exhausted, she couldn’t gather enough energy to open her eyes. “Thirsty,” she croaked and instantly felt a strong arm wrap around her shoulders, lifting her. Cool liquid trickled into her mouth, and she greedily raised her head seeking more.
“Easy girl, take it slow.”
Janelle recognized Henry’s deep voice and did as he instructed. After a few sips, he pulled the cup away, and she managed to crack open her eyelids. He settled her back against the pillows and gave her a small, worried smile. “I’ll holler for Aaron, honey.”
“No!” she croaked weakly. �
�Peppermint steam… Motrin… water.” Having delivered her message, she lapsed into blissful, ignorant oblivion once again.
* * *
The next time she awoke, her mind was alert and she was more clear-headed. Still weak and feeling like she’d been run over by a truck, she managed to stay awake for more than five seconds. Turning her head, she saw Aaron slumped in a chair, sound asleep. He looked haggard and worn out.
“Aaron?” she croaked like a frog, but it was enough to wake him.
“Janelle? Thank God. Are you back with us, darlin’? I’ve been so worried.”
“Drink…” she managed.
“Of course.” He held her while she drank, urging her not to rush. When she seemed satisfied, he settled her back on the bed and bent to press a fervent kiss against her forehead. “I was afraid I was going to lose you. That Motrin is a miracle pill.”
“How long?”
“You’ve been sick for six days, sweet pea. Away from me for seven if we count the first day when Jessup took you.”
“I’m sorry…” The tears stung her eyes, and she felt them trickle down her face.
“I’m sorry, too. But please don’t cry.” He wiped her tears gently with his thumbs and cupped her precious face between his hands. “We’ve got our whole lives to apologize and make it up to each other. For now, you need to concentrate your strength on getting well.”
“I love you, Aaron. Thought… I’d die on that mountain… without getting… to say so.” Her strength was sapped from their brief interaction to such an extent that she immediately drifted off to sleep, but Aaron was rendered speechless as a mix of emotion welled up inside him—relief being foremost. He fell forward burying his face in her hair, hot tears of gratitude flooding his eyes as he silently gave thanks. He felt overwhelmed with emotions: hope, remorse, and unconditional love.
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