by Amber Stokes
Sidling to the table set with refreshments, he picked up a cup and gulped down the liquid. Lemonade. He grimaced at the sourness. Ah, well. It would only take a few sips to bring him some relief.
Taylor had started singing another war ballad or some such song, by the sounds of it. Scouting the room and not finding anyone he really wished to talk to, he settled against a wall.
After a couple of minutes, he realized that he couldn’t see Sally anywhere in the dance hall. Or Seth, for that matter. Had the man taken Sally outside? Clutching the tin cup tight, he formed a few choice words for Seth if he was disrespecting Sally in any way.
As if his uncharitable thoughts had thumped Seth on the head, Myghal saw the man enter the room, scanning the dancers with eyes wide with consternation. Alarm pumped through his blood. When he pushed away from the wall, Seth seemed to catch the movement and forged a path toward him.
“What is it?” Myghal asked as soon as Seth was close enough to hear him, through a throat now tight with worry. “Where’s Sally?”
“I don’t know. We finished the last dance, and Sam came over to talk. We were discussing our schedules and the bakery, and… I don’t know… nothing important. It was only a few minutes, but I never noticed that Sally had left. I was just outside checking to see if she was getting some fresh air, but I can’t find her.” His voice was edging toward panic. “I don’t know where she is, Myghal.”
O’Daniel. Neither of them needed to say the name aloud. It had been over a month since Sally said she saw him…but what if the man really was here, and he had been watching them, following them, biding his time?
Thrusting his cup onto the table with a clatter, he turned to the doors. Before he and Seth could make it outside, though, Taylor was beside them. “What’s happened?”
“Sally’s missin’.”
Taylor’s face tightened. He was aware of Sally spotting O’Daniel weeks ago, and he most likely knew better than either of them the kind of damage the man could do.
“I’ll gather some men.”
“Good.”
With that, Seth and Myghal raced outside. Sally was alone somewhere out there – possibly with the man who had killed her husband to try to get to her.
Chapter 24
“As I see it, Sally, you have two choices. You can either live with me as my wife or go back to D Street and your life as a whore.”
Sally struggled against Rufus’s hold, twisting violently and trying to bite the hand covering her mouth. She had only wanted to step outside to breathe the cool air and let it refresh her overly warm face. But Rufus had come upon her so unexpectedly that he had already dragged her several feet away from the dance hall before fear sank in and snapped her into action.
Despite the gray that peppered Rufus’s dark hair, he was still as strong as she remembered. The muscles he had built up during his years in the Confederate Army must have never been allowed to diminish with disuse. He dragged her to a horse he had tethered a little ways into the forest. With vivid clarity she recalled Rufus’s possessive manner toward her when he came to visit her at Jacob’s place. He’d always been rougher than many of the other clientele, pinning her down so she couldn’t fight back at his harsh treatment. She shut her eyes tightly, terror choking her as in her mind she once again saw the tender brown and blue bruises and the rips in her flashy dresses.
What would she do if he dragged her right back to that desperate place, where she traded her body for the provisions needed to stay alive?
When he removed the hand from around her waist, she shoved him as hard as she could and took off running. But before she could scream for help, he pushed her from behind, sending her into the dirt and moss. With his knee in her back, he pressed a cloth into her mouth and tied it tight behind her head.
She rolled over, and he allowed it, adjusting to straddle her. Something sparked in his eyes then, a moment of hesitation. A battle between desire and uncertainty warred in his copper gaze, and she used the moment to try and buck him off. She swung her arms, hoping to connect a punch or a slap.
Anger swiftly edged out whatever else she had seen, and he grabbed her wrists hard. Scowling, he removed a rope that hung from his belt and tied her hands together. No amount of thrashing seemed to distract him from his purpose.
He abruptly stood and yanked her up with him, pulling on the rope so that she was on her tiptoes as he brought her face close.
“I’ve fought too long and hard to have you, and I will not let you best me.”
He spun and headed back to his horse, tugging her along after him. She dug her feet into the ground and finally fell to her knees, hoping to delay him. When they reached his horse, he calmly told her, “You can either ride with me or be dragged along behind the horse. It matters little to me.”
He bent down to lift her up. She shook her head and refused to let him. His slap shouldn’t have surprised her, but the unanticipated sting still caused her eyes to water. In a matter of moments he had her rope tied to the saddle and was mounted on the horse’s back. He took off at a brisk pace, but the gag smothered her cry as her knees skidded along the ground. Finally, she found her feet.
She had to run to keep up, and it wasn’t long before her legs felt like they would buckle beneath her.
Maybe he won’t be able to get me to Virginia City. Surely no one would let him force me to go with him. No one could make me marry him, and I would only have to tell one person the truth in order to be rescued. I have money now. I have friends who will help me.
The thoughts beat around in her head as she stumbled along behind the horse. It was a drop of sweet hope in a night full of horror. This wouldn’t be like it had been before, with Jack. Seth and Myghal would find her. Wouldn’t they?
Oh, God. I couldn’t bear being abandoned again. I can’t go back. Please! I can’t go back.
She couldn’t remember when she started crying, but the effort hurt her throat and made it harder for her to breathe around the cloth in her mouth. A blackness deeper than the night edged into her vision, but as it brought her once again to her knees she thought she heard the burbling of a river and a whisper.
Don’t you remember?
***
Rufus O’Daniel reined in his horse when he saw Sally fall to her knees. Jumping down from the saddle, he muttered a curse and untied the rope from the saddle horn. He strode over to where she had collapsed onto the ground – unconscious – then eased her onto her back.
Her moonlit hair had come free. It fell across her face in tangles. He fingered a strand, wishing he had the time to show her tenderness, to comfort her, to woo her in a place where he was the only man around.
Something inside him clawed desperately, trying to get him to think through what he was doing. He felt his heart shredding, bleeding, despite the barricade he had fortified it with when making these plans.
But if a man thought too long and hard about the personal cost of war, he would most likely lose the guts to keep fighting. He had witnessed men desert the Army because they had seen too much blood, too much suffering. He had seen what unpreparedness and fear had done to the Union Army at First Manassas – had watched them flee like cowards. And he had watched the reactions of his fellow soldiers when they came across the devastation of their land, their pride and hope, caused by Sherman’s abominable “March to the Sea.” They had wept like babes. It should have made them fight harder, but instead many of them crumpled in despair.
Not him. Rufus O’Daniel had channeled his rage into destroying the Union Army. If enough men had been at his back, the war might have gone another way.
This might not be about land anymore, but it was still about pride and hope. He would not be swayed by ugly sights and damaged hearts.
Sally was far from ugly, though, despite the streaks left on her face from tears and the red around her eyes and mouth. When she was his, then he would have the rest of their lives to rebuild and heal. But healing couldn’t happen until the war was over.
As he navigated through the forest, her head listed against his chest. He relished the warm feel of her. He would protect her: keep her from falling, from ever going hungry again, from ever having to share of herself with anyone other than him.
It would be a long ride tonight, but tomorrow they would be married and sailing away from all the troubles she had known here.
Somehow this little sprite had brought him to his knees, but soon he would be the one standing, and then he’d finally have the triumph he had been fighting to claim since the defeat at Appomattox.
***
Sally struggled, something in her fighting for awareness, and something else wanting to accept whatever darkness surrounded her. The thought of opening her eyes scared her, but she couldn’t remember why. She pried one eye open to a slit. She was in a room she didn’t recognize, but the vague similarities to Jacob’s place made her shudder. She wanted to scream but the cloth was still in her mouth, and the end of the rope that had made her wrists raw was now tied to a bedpost.
She tried to stand, but the rope was tied to the bottom of the post, and it wouldn’t go beyond the frame supporting the filthy, tobacco-juice-spattered mattress. She could only make it to a semi-standing, hunched-over position. The rope must have been shortened since…
Thoughts of Rufus stopped her mind in its tracks. What had happened? The last thing she could remember was following after his horse, growing weaker from panic and fatigue until she slipped into blackness. How had Rufus brought her here? And where was “here”?
Terror rose up in her throat. She fought to stifle it before the gag forced her to choke on it. There was no way he could have brought her all the way back to Virginia City. This had to be some other saloon or brothel. In Eureka? Where would he take her next?
She wasn’t going to wait around to find out. Staring at the bed, she tried to figure out how she could escape. Maybe if she could wedge herself beneath the frame…
Scrambling beneath the closest edge of the bed, she tried to get her knees under her so she could lift the frame. If she could raise the post a couple of inches, perhaps she could slide the rope off.
She pushed up with as much effort as she could muster, moaning at the stiffness of her muscles and the pain it generated in her lower back. It wasn’t working. Still, she kept trying, only taking a break to try to maneuver the rope farther down the post.
Suddenly, the door creaked open like the lid of a coffin. She whipped around. Rufus looked surprised, probably to see her awake and moved from where she had been slumped against the far wall next to the headboard. Her heart pounded, and she tried to scoot farther under the bed, for what little good it would do. She tugged on the rope, wishing she could find the strength to break it…wishing someone would come and cut it and release her from this nightmare.
He crossed his arms. “What do you think you’re doing, Sally? You’re acting like a foolish child.”
And what about you? The words couldn’t be released, but she found her fear momentarily replaced by anger. Why did he keep coming after her? Why couldn’t they both move past that horrible moment in time when they had both been part of something so wrong, so tragic?
“Get out from under there. We need to leave.”
I’m not leaving with you! Oh, how she wished she could tell him. Instead, she moved as far back beneath the bed as she could, until the rope tightened around her tender wrists.
Rufus slammed the door, and a tremor coursed through her. She closed her eyes, wishing she could shut out this room, this man. At a tug on her rope, her eyes flew open. He was cutting the rope from the post. When he had sawed through, he took the end and gave it a jerk, trying to drag her out. She crawled back as far as she could and curled her left foot around the back post, anchoring herself under the bed.
He swore and yanked harder, causing her to wrench her foot. Her cry came out as a whimper. When she saw him let go of the rope, relief coursed through her – until she felt a tug on her throbbing foot. He was pulling her from behind, and her surprise and the pain in her foot gave him the advantage he needed to drag her free.
Panic heated her face. She scrambled to push her dress down from where it had bunched up around her thighs. Before she could think of a new plan, Rufus hauled her to her feet and shoved her into the wall. Her head hit hard, and it took a moment for her to focus on the wavering image of his frustrated face. There seemed to be a hint of weariness in his stance, though, and she thought if she could only find the right moment, maybe she could make a run for it…
His hands bit into her arms. “Enough games. You will do as I say.” He didn’t include a consequence, but he didn’t need to. She could well imagine the things he would do if he let his rage consume him.
She started to shake, and she watched his expression change in response. The few wrinkles on his face became more pronounced, and his eyes softened slightly. “Sally, surely you must realize the kind of life that I can give you. Let me show you what I can offer. When you’re mine, these drastic measures won’t be necessary.”
Unless I tried to escape again. Or if I did anything to displease you. She resented the cloth cutting into the edges of her mouth and keeping her from attempting to reason with him, to share her piece even if he didn’t accept it. Not being able to speak made her feel sick, and she tried to swallow, disheartened at the dryness of her mouth and the rapid pulse she could feel due to the tightness of Rufus’s grip.
The sound, or maybe the refusal in her eyes, brought hardness back to his hazel gaze. “You’ll see.”
He let go with one hand and reached for something in his pocket…another cloth. She glanced from his face to the cloth in confusion. But when she felt his other hand relax a bit, she lurched forward. Whatever he had planned was not something she wanted to wait around for.
She felt his arm come around her head as soon as she gripped the door handle in her still-tied hands. The cloth he stuffed over her face was damp, and she struggled in panic, afraid at the weakness seeping into her head and limbs. She pulled on the door with her last bit of energy, and it opened. Shoving her elbow into Rufus’s stomach, she stumbled out of his grasp, tripping through the doorway and landing on her knees in the hallway.
Cotton floated through her head, stuffing her ears and her mouth and muddling her thoughts. But she recognized Seth’s deep voice, coming to her as if she were underwater. Her heart sped as she tried to lift her head.
I have another choice. Please, God, let there be another choice. No matter what, I’m changed. I can’t go back. I won’t go back…
Chapter 25
Seth stared in shock, his heart pounding furiously. Myghal and a group of the woodsmen had been left behind to continue searching the forest around Falk, in case Rufus had decided to hide out there for a time. Seth and Taylor had gone ahead to search the saloons and check with the men who ran the stage in Eureka, hoping to catch Rufus O’Daniel before he could leave the area with Sally.
Despite his hopes, Seth hadn’t been prepared for the reality he now faced. Seeing Sally stumble into the hallway, a cloth stuffed in her mouth and her hands tied tightly together, made him feel sick. What had O’Daniel done?
“Sally!” He lifted the rifle Taylor had thrust into his hands last night. Something seemed to flicker in her expression, but as she started to turn her head in his
direction, O’Daniel dragged her in front of him, holding her like a shield. He aimed a pistol at Seth’s heart.
“Sally is coming with me. I suggest you don’t interfere, Mr. Clifton, unless you want to join your brother.”
The words were cold. O’Daniel’s mouth twisted in a grimace, as if he found them distasteful.
Seth winced at the reference to his brother’s violent death, and he imagined that the blood pumping hard through his veins was also pumping into his vision. The hallway narrowed, a red, angry haze shrouding the terrible scene.
Sally whimpered, her eyes widening as she met Seth’s gaze. She was trying to tell him something by her intent stare, but he looked away. He couldn’t be distracted. He wouldn’t let her pleading sway him.
His hands shook, but he aimed the rifle at O’Daniel’s head. Could he shoot O’Daniel before O’Daniel shot him? No one should have to suffer at the man’s hands again…
Unwillingly, his eyes found Sally’s. She looked terrified, and tears were coursing down her pale cheeks. She was twisting in O’Daniel’s arms, shaking her head, trying to reach her hands up. To remove the rag in her mouth?
There was no way he could aim straight – he was trembling too hard, and Sally was making it impossible for him to make sure he wouldn’t hit her if he tried to shoot O’Daniel. He lowered the weapon, his pulse slowing to a hesitant thud.
Oh, God. I’m not this man. I don’t want to be this man. Please…what would You have me do?
Sally…
His head jerked when he realized what she was trying to do. O’Daniel had her in a one-armed grip – and she was attempting to knock the weapon from his hand.
“Sally, stop!”
He pictured Joe’s body in her arms, lifeless and blood-spattered, as he charged across the short distance between them.
God, please protect Sally!
His heart shouted the prayer as he rammed into the two, causing O’Daniel to stumble before falling onto his back.
