Samuel sorted through the stack and found two pants and three shirts he thought would fit Adam. “I’ll take these, and I’ll need to order him a pair of boots.”
“Who are they for?”
“Adam Pate, an eight-year-old. His father lives across the river. I’m marrying his sister, Louisa.”
“Congratulations, Samuel. Just measure Adam’s foot and bring the measurement to me. For youngsters, I always order a couple of sizes up because by the time we order and receive them, which could take at least a month, he’ll have grown into them or soon will.”
“Good thinking, Sir. At least he’ll have them before it gets really cold.”
“Will that be all?”
“Well…I don’t suppose you have any wedding rings?”
“No, sorry, don’t have any.”
Disappointed, Samuel sighed.
“But I do have a necklace you could give her instead.” He pulled out a case kept under his counter and opened it. “A simple pearl with a gold chain, but it’s lovely.”
Samuel nodded. “I’ll take it. And add two jugs of whiskey and three bottles of wine to my bill.” It wasn’t every day a man got married.
Four more things were now crossed off his list. It was time to go home and get married. Excitement raced through him. While Wetmore totaled up his bill, Samuel’s thoughts turned to his upcoming marriage. He just hoped he could be a good husband and make Louisa happy. She deserved that. Her life had not been an easy one. He truly wanted to be her hero.
Wetmore glanced up at Samuel. “You know, you can’t just hope for a happy marriage, you have to create one.”
“How does a man go about that, Sir?” Samuel asked, wondering if the man had read his mind.
“Well, here’s my take on it. True love means you stand by that person. And in hard times, you stand even closer. And here on the frontier, hard times are just about guaranteed.”
They both glanced toward the window as a flash of lightning filled the trading post with a sinister light.
Chapter 18
Herman Long brought his mount to an abrupt stop. “Mr. Pate, hold up a minute. I’m going to untie Louisa. I don’t want her to get sick on our wedding night.”
“I’m not sure that’s wise,” her father said.
Long dismounted and handed the reins of his mount to her father. Then he untied her from the horse she was on and untied her feet. After he set her upon the ground, he left her hands tied and yanked the soaked gag from her mouth.
Louisa swallowed and sputtered. “You’re doing this for nothing. I’ll never marry you!”
Her father glowered at her. “Louisa, be respectful to your betrothed.”
“We are not betrothed!” she shouted, boldly meeting her father’s intimidating eyes. For once in her life, she was going to stand up to her father. Was it Samuel’s love that gave her the strength to do so? Or did she have the strength within her all along? She wasn’t sure. But something had been unleashed within her, and she vowed to defy both of these men.
Her father’s eyes widened in shock and intense astonishment filled his angry face. He wasn’t used to Louisa challenging him. “You are promised to the Commander because I said so,” he hissed.
Every muscle in her body tensed in defiance. “I never agreed to marry Commander Long.”
Stunned, her father’s jaw and fists clenched. He started to say something but froze when lightning exploded nearby.
Startled by the ear-piercing clap splitting the air, Louisa’s body tensed even further, but she turned to face Long. “We are not betrothed!”
Long smiled at her. “Oh, but we are betrothed, my love. Your father and I reached an agreement.” His voice sounded like a tone that would be used on a sulky child. “Don’t you remember?”
She did remember. She shot her father an angry glare.
“Louisa, listen to me,” he warned with a stern face. “Those Wyllie people wanted to work you like a servant. And that woman wouldn’t let you leave. Well, now we’ve rescued you, and you are free to follow your heart.”
She suspected it before, but now she was certain. Her father was a raving lunatic.
Commander Long eyed her as though she were now a misbehaving small child. “If you promise to behave yourself, my love, I’ll untie your hands.”
Louisa raised her chin. “If you behave, I’ll tell Samuel to let you live.”
Long chuckled. “You won’t have any more contact with Samuel.”
Louisa’s panic rose a notch but not as high as her anger. “Untie my hands and take me back. Now!”
“There’s no need to play hard to get or act coy,” Long soothed, “although it is somewhat endearing. But we are soon to be married, my dear. You just need to get to know me better. After all, we’ve had so little time together. But it was long enough for me to know how appealing you are.” He stood closer and touched her cheek with his index finger. “Long enough to know how exceptionally charming and fetching you are. I have been enthralled with you since I first saw you. And today I’m learning how feisty you can be as well. I consider that an asset. A spirited woman is so much more…exciting.” He ran his finger and his eyes slowly downward, from her neck to the cleft of her bosom.
If her hands had been free, she would have slapped him. Instead, she shot him a disgusted glance. “I am about to be married. To Samuel Wyllie! And yes, I’ll be hard to get—impossible, in fact—for I love another and could never marry you.”
Long’s lips tightened and he shook his head. “No, Louisa, you’re not going to marry him. You are too exquisite for a man like him. Your beauty would be wasted in this primitive settlement. You deserve to shine in society among the genteel, the upper sort.”
“I have no desire to join society,” she said. “I’m happy with Samuel and his family.”
Long gave her a patronizing look. “That boy is nothing but a poor cow man living in a crowded cabin. I’m a well-respected, successful lawyer and the Commander of Texian forces. I have a large, prosperous plantation in Louisiana and can provide the kind of life you deserve. You’ll have servants and slaves, fine silk gowns, and live a life of luxury beyond your wildest dreams.”
Her father muttered his agreement. “Listen to the man. He’s right.”
Louisa cast her eyes between the two men. She saw a devil lurking in the covetous look Long gave her. And her wicked father was surely one of the devil’s minions.
“Pa, untie me!” she pleaded. “Please, help me.”
“I can’t do that. You are going to marry the Commander whether you like it or not. As your father, I know what’s best for you.”
“You’ve never known or cared about what’s best for me. Or Adam. You’ve only wanted what is best for you.”
Her father drew back his meaty hand and slapped her. “Enough of this back talk! What’s best for me is best for you,” he yelled. “Someday he will be the leader of all of Texas. And you’ll be by his side. So will I. Commander Long has promised to make me one of his highest ranking officers. While his army takes control of this land and we make our fortunes, you will live in Louisiana at his plantation. You’ll thank me someday.”
“No, I won’t. And I loathe you today,” she spat, her cheek still burning. Her father’s thinking was as warped as Long’s.
A chilly gust a wind blew against her face and tossed her hair about. Above her the sky relentlessly grumbled, as unhappy as her heart. A major storm was brewing.
Long moved to stand between her and her father. “Let’s quarrel no more. Mr. Pate, please refrain from laying a hand on my future bride. Louisa, please don’t aggravate your father. He only wants what’s best for you. So please try to be civil. The three of us have much to look forward to.”
“If you want me to be civil, untie my hands. I’ll show you just how gracious I can be.” She looked forward to graciously planting her boot between his legs.
“Regrettably, I will have to leave your hands tied, for now,” Long said. “But we will
untie them shortly. When you learn how wonderful I can make you feel, I’m sure you will want to return my affections. You’ll see when we consummate our marriage.”
If he did that…Louisa knew she would be ruined. No man would have her. Probably not even Samuel, because she could be carrying another man’s child. The thought of Long being the one to take her virginity made her scream, “No!”
A new and unexpected resolve surged through her as Long took hold of her, preparing to lift her onto the spare horse. This was her life, and no one was going to ruin it for her. And no one was here to save her from that ruin except herself. She had to save herself. She pulled away from him. “I said, no!”
As if they had a mind of their own, Louisa’s legs took off running. She’d always been a fast runner, but now she ran as if her life depended on it. Because it did. She bolted in the direction they’d come from. Each long stride took her closer to Samuel. Closer to freedom. Closer to being able to decide for herself what kind of life she would lead.
“Stop!” Long commanded. “You won’t get far.”
That made Louisa run even faster. She glanced over her shoulder.
Encumbered by his long sword and heavy, knee-high boots, Long trailed behind her a short distance. Beside him, her father’s eyes shot daggers at her and his clenched fists promised punishment.
She leaped over a fallen log, darted between trees, running like a scared rabbit being chased by a hungry fox. No! She was no scared rabbit. She was smart. And swift. And determined. By God, she would escape or die trying. Keeping her breathing steady, she pushed harder and went faster.
As she ran, the sharp wind out of the north bit at her face and stung her eyes. The clouds above grew almost black. Beneath the canopy of the forest, the filtered light was so dim she had a difficult time seeing. The wind blew her hair onto her face and she repeatedly swiped at it with her tied hands. She zigged and zagged among the large trees, running with the wind, hoping to lose them. She glanced behind, only Long followed now.
Lord, help me!
Lightning cracked and the sky seemed to drop. Icy cold rain stabbed her skin but still, she kept running. As the rain poured down, she tried to remain hidden amongst the trees, running behind first one large tree trunk and then another. Her heart throbbed as she fled further and further into the cold, wet woods.
The dark sky was mostly hidden above the canopy of the forest. Then she heard the sudden crack of a lightning bolt as it shot across the sky and then downward. The flash lit the woods in an eerie glow and shook her heart. The rolling, growling roar of the thunder that followed nearly instantly vibrated within her causing every nerve in her body to quiver.
Her path across the forest floor grew slippery and her boot nearly slipped from beneath her. Soon the weight of her soaked clothes made running even more difficult. The trees provided no shelter. Droplets the size of pecans crashed through the foliage above. Shadows shifted to menacing gloom, and the rain kept pouring.
Suddenly she entered a sizable clearing, and the unobstructed rain there fell on her as if she were standing in a waterfall. She glanced behind her but could see little. The world was just a wet blur. At least she didn’t see Long on her heels.
Her chest heaving, her breaths came in short, rapid gasps. She stopped, taking a moment to catch her breath. Even the air felt wet as she sucked in deep mouthfuls of air. Water ran freely from her long, wind-tangled hair and flowed in a sheet down her back. Her borrowed shirt and skirt stuck to her like a cold second skin. A flash stream ran over the tops of her muddy leather boots, and water seeped into the stitching making her feet even colder. Her bound hands trembled.
Her mind raced, still frantic with thoughts of escaping. As she glanced around and tried to get her bearings, the tall pines around the clearing bowed to the gale. A forked bolt shot across the unbroken clouds that blanketed the sky. The lightning illuminated the open field in an unnatural, blue-gray light. The thunderous boom that followed the lightning roared a warning too late.
Eyes widened, breaths ragged, and shaking from the cold, she stared, disbelieving.
She jammed her fist into her mouth to stifle a scream.
A single Indian, riding a horse and holding a long lance, watched her from across the large clearing.
Her legs were frozen in place with sudden terror and fatigue, so she crouched down and crawled and dragged herself toward the edge of the woods. Maybe he hadn’t seen her. Her heart thumped madly as she clawed at the earth trying to pull herself back into the cover of the forest.
She glanced back, her eyes narrowed to keep out the relentless curtain of rain.
The brave was coming, his horse’s steps slow, threatening.
There was no point in trying to get away now. There was no place to hide. And if she ran, the horseback Indian would be on her in seconds, perhaps driving that long lance into her back. A shudder ran down her spine.
She wondered where Commander Long was. Had he gone back to get his horse and her father? She was sure they were still coming for her. Would they wait until the storm ended? The thought of seeing either one again turned her stomach.
She would never forgive her father for his betrayal. He had stabbed her in the back just as surely as if he’d used the spear this Indian held. His treachery had pierced her heart like a sharp, ragged blade.
But, still, she wouldn’t let him make her cry.
She wasn’t sure which would be worse—to be a prisoner in a loveless, arranged marriage or to be made a slave in an Indian village. Either way, her life would be covered with a blanket of doom. A life of continued unhappiness. And she would never be with Samuel.
Perhaps neither fate awaited her. This Indian might kill her. Her long blonde hair would likely be a prized scalp. The horror of the thought made cold terror creep through her.
Still crouching in cold water and mud, she turned her head around.
The Indian continued his slow march toward her. His hawkish gaze drilled into her.
Panting with panic, she clutched her bound hands against her chest. Despair and hopelessness assailed her, crushing her heart. Oh, Samuel, if only we’d had a chance together. A chance for happiness. A chance for love.
But that life was a fading dream now.
She most likely wasn't going to make it out of this alive.
Chapter 19
Louisa refused to die with the Indian’s lance in her back.
If this brave was going to kill her, he would have to do it to her face. Her legs were still trembling with cold and fear, but she pushed herself up, wiped her mud covered hands on her skirt, and straightened her back. For Adam’s sake, she couldn’t give up. Not yet. She was still alive. And as long as she was alive, there was hope. Even if it was only a raindrop’s worth, it was enough hope to let a storm of courage flow into her heart.
She pushed her wet hair out of her eyes, lifted her chin, and waited as the storm let up.
The Indian rode closer, his proud, bronze face and dark eyes studying her with piercing scrutiny as he approached. Large earrings adorned his ears and his head was shaved except for a scalplock, one long lock of hair on top of his head. He wore no shirt, but a cloth jacket covered his broad shoulders. Leather leggings protected his long, sinewy legs. A powerful, young brave. She guessed he was of the Caddo tribe because Old Bill said he’d encountered a number of Caddo hunters in these woods.
The brave’s white stallion was also young and powerful. Eagle feathers hung in the horse’s mane and from his reins. And the horse’s chest and shoulders bore strange, crimson-painted shapes. Louisa wondered at the meaning of one design in particular. It was a circle with a smaller circle in the center that had four logs in the shape of a cross pointing outward from the central circle. One log pointed north, one east, one south, and one west. Smeared by the rain, the designs made his horse appear as menacing as the brave.
"Kua'a," he said when he reached her and held up a hand. It sounded like an almost friendly greeting.
&nb
sp; Trying to keep her voice from shaking, she said, “Hello.”
“Hello,” he repeated.
“You speak English?” she asked.
“Some.” He gestured around them and to the sky. “Today, the storm God rides.” His words were rough and guttural, but she understood them.
“Yes,” she said, nodding. And her father and Long were probably riding toward her too. She glanced behind her, still worried that they might ride up at any moment. Caught between them and this Indian, she had nowhere to run. She turned back to face the Indian and tried to hide her fear.
The brave glanced at her bound hands and his eyes searched the forest beyond her. His brow furrowed. “Man follow you?”
She nodded. “Yes. Bad man. He carries a long sword.” She gestured to her side.
The brave nodded once, indicating his understanding. He gracefully slipped off his horse and stuck his spear in the ground. He withdrew his knife and strode toward her.
The sight of the blade and the frown on his face made a wave of terror sweep through her far colder than the north wind that blew up her skirt. Was this brave going to scalp her? She backed away and nearly stumbled when her boot stuck in the mud.
He stopped, pointed to her wrist, and then made a sawing motion with his knife.
Her relief was so profound she felt light-headed.
His sharp blade swiftly cut through the rope and he tossed the fragments aside.
Her wrists freed, she tried to rub the soreness out of them, but it hurt too much. The wet rope had tightened painfully and made her skin raw.
“Where home?” he asked
She thought for a moment about what to tell him. Were the Wyllies his enemy or were they his friends? “Wyllie,” she said, making her voice firm. “The place on the Red River where there are many cows.” It was her home now. For the first time in her life, she felt she belonged somewhere.
The brave’s eyes narrowed, and her heart skipped a beat.
“Brave warriors,” he said.
Red River Rifles (Wilderness Dawning—the Texas Wyllie Brothers Series Book 1) Page 18
