“They went north,” William finally said.
“Then we head north.”
The little-used north trail rapidly became a steep uphill climb. The horses tired as they climbed rock covered inclines.
“Let’s give our mounts a rest at the next stream,” William said.
“Give them a rest or you?”
“Got to keep up with my beauty rest. It’s a habit you should cultivate, judging from that face of yours.”
“It was good enough for Father, and it’s good enough for me.”
“You do resemble him remarkably. I guess that’s why we all let you lead us around. We think you’re going to give us a whomping like he did with that damn razor strap. All he’d have to do is look at that strap to make me straighten up.”
George stepped over a large rock. “If he was speaking to you now, he’d tell you it’s high time for you to give up your bachelor ways, settle down, get married, and get to work on your own farm. And he probably would give you a good whomping.”
“I’ll settle down when the time is right and not before. I have no desire to farm. I want to study the law and use it to help people. Without the rule of law, our hard-won freedoms cannot be assured. Those who infringe on a man’s freedom and rights should pay a price. That’s what I believe and that’s what I intend to do with my life. A place like Kentucky will need sheriffs and lawyers.”
“What about a wife? You seem fond enough of women. You should have found a suitable one by now.”
“That’s just it. I haven’t found one I’m not fond of.” William chuckled. “They’re all appealing in various ways. Narrowing it down to just one is impossible.”
“You better start soon. You won’t be that handsome forever. A few white hairs are sticking out by those big ears of yours.”
William rubbed the hair by his ear. “White?”
“Indeed.”
Seeing the amusement in Stephen’s eyes, William chuckled, but his eyes still looked worried.
They stopped by a stream flowing down from the foothills. Crystal clear water flowed and gurgled over colorful rocks and boulders, formed and polished over centuries with the infinite patience of nature. After taking a drink, he studied the desolate hills around them, studded heavily with thick spruce and cedars. “Keep a watch for bears and mountain cats. They hunt in the higher hills like these,” Stephen said.
“Thanks for the tip,” William said.
“Look,” Stephen said, pointing to a whisper of smoke escaping through the treetops. “Must be a homestead up there.”
Both men mounted their horses and headed toward the cabin.
“Don’t assume they’re friendly,” William said.
“The only thing I’m assuming is that they’re not.”
They rode a short way up the path and then tied their horses to a tree. Both grabbed their rifles and checked the powder in their pistols. Slowly and quietly, they made their way on foot up the rest of the hill. Hiding behind a large pine, they studied the little rustic dugout for several minutes.
The backside of the cabin rested snugly against the side of a rock covered hill, providing natural insulation against winter winds and snows from the north. A dilapidated porch covered a large front door. Rough logs, cut into five-foot sections, formed the three walls. The only sounds they heard were a squirrel jumping from tree limb to tree limb behind them and chickens foraging a short distance from the house.
“That pen is holding four horses and a mule. That’s a lot of horse flesh for a place like this,” Stephen said.
William nodded in agreement. “That big sorrel with the white stocking on the right rear foot matches the description of Mr. Adams’ steed. And the other three are the colors of the three killers’ horses she described. We’ve found them.”
“That sorrel’s a fine-looking animal. Probably what they killed Adams for.”
“I’ve heard that in the wilderness, horses are more valuable than humans. My guess would be they plan to take it to a fort or settlement for trade,” William said. “It’s too quiet in there. What do you suppose they’re up to?”
A scream of terror and agony pierced the silence.
He glanced at William for a split second before they both took off running towards the small cabin.
“Stay quiet. We’ll have the advantage of surprise,” William told him.
William stepped quietly onto the porch, both pistols drawn and motioned for Stephen to stand on the other side of the door.
The woman screamed again, sounding terror-stricken.
William burst through the crude front door, pistols drawn.
Stephen stepped into the room and caught sight of a young woman, bound to the bed, and her two attackers, one of them struggling to penetrate her, the other fondling her breasts. She appeared to be little more than a girl.
In that split second, the repressed anger of his girls’ deaths flooded through his mind. The raw and bleeding skin on the girl’s ankles and wrists enraged him. The sight of those two animals ravaging her slight body made rage explode from his every pore.
William locked his pistol’s sights on the man on top of the woman, but didn’t shoot. If his brother fired, he might hit her.
With eyes looking through a father’s rage, he understood what he had to do. He couldn’t help his daughters now, but he could help this young woman. He cocked his weapon. As the one fondling her small breasts stood up in surprise, Stephen shot him squarely in the chest.
The other man jumped up, his eyes narrowed, his face contorted in fury, and lunged through the powder’s smoke toward him.
Stephen turned his pistol around and used the butt to club the man’s jaw. Then he kicked the rapist in the stomach with his boot. The vicious blow threw the man to the floor face down.
“Help me. Help me. Help me,” the woman sobbed.
The woman’s pathetic plea momentarily distracted him, but he spun around when William fired his pistol. The attacker dropped to the floor, shot through the heart.
“He went for his knife,” William said, as he nudged the man with his boot. He won’t do it again.”
Stephen heard wretched sobbing behind him. The woman’s pitiful cries triggered the need to protect and tugged at his heart. If William hadn’t just killed the bastard, he would have beaten the man to death himself.
Chapter 28
It all happened in a blur of seconds. It took more time for them to find a blanket, cover the young woman, and cut the bindings at her wrists and ankles than it did to kill her assailants.
When the last of her bonds fell away, she grabbed her knees and curled up in a ball of anguish, sobbing desperately. Blood from the bullet wound of one of the attacker’s splattered her bruised and tear-stained face.
Stephen and William looked at each other not sure what to do first.
Stephen motioned toward the dead men. “Let’s get them out of here and then I’ll fetch some water so she can wash up.”
They each grabbed one and drug the two men out the cabin door, their bodies leaving a path of blood, crooked and smeared, just like the lives they’d led.
William shoved the man Stephen shot off the dusty porch and went back to help the young woman.
Stephen threw the other body face down in the dirt Then he marched on to retrieve their horses. He mounted George and lugged William’s horse behind him as he rode quickly back up to the cabin. He tied the men’s feet with his rope and used George to drag the bodies into the woods. The last thing that poor girl needed was to see these two again. He decided he’d better search their pockets in case they had any of Mrs. Adams’ valuables on them. The first man had nothing, but he found Mr. Adams’ watch in the other’s pocket. He searched further and found a pouch of money. He secured both in his waistcoat pocket.
After untying the rope and remounting, he peered down at the bodies and noticed unbuttoned pants hung around the legs of one of them. His eyes hardened. “Go to hell,” he swore.
Stephen got w
ater from the cistern and brought the bucket to the cabin door. He gave the bucket to William who gave a dipperful to the young woman. She drank greedily, clutching the blanket against her breast. Her crying slowed somewhat and she laid back down on the cot.
“How is she?” Stephen asked softly.
“Still in shock, I think,” William whispered. “I found what looked like a rag and wiped the blood from the floor as best I could and then threw the rag in the hearth, along with the scraps of rope that the bastards used to tie her.”
She still sobbed softly and it tore at Stephen’s heart. He’d kill them again if he could.
Very slowly, William stooped down on the floor several feet from the bed, his hat in his hand. He said gently, “My name’s William Wyllie and this other ugly fellow is my youngest brother Stephen. I guess you could say I’m a lawman of sorts because I was the sheriff in the town where we lived before. We were hunting those two snakes for murdering a man named Adams not too far from here. They also robbed Mrs. Adams. But, thankfully, she killed one of them with her dagger before they could harm her. There were three of them. After she killed one, the other two fled with Mr. Adams’ horse and we tracked them here. Now they’re dead. I know you’re frightened and you don’t know us, but I swear to you on that Bible there on the table that you are safe now.”
“We won’t let any more harm come to you. Just lie down and rest now. It’s over. They can’t hurt you anymore,” Stephen said.
“I gathered up your clothes. Some were torn but some seemed to be still in one piece and I laid them all there at the end of your cot,” William explained.
Stephen scanned the sparsely furnished cabin for some clean clothes for her. Several pelts were stretched on racks. Not finding much he decided they’d better just leave her alone. She needed privacy anyway. He motioned for William to go outside with him.
As they neared the front door, William glanced over his shoulder at the young woman. “Rest awhile now. Stephen and I will make you something to eat. Are you hungry?”
She fisted the blanket below her chin, but she didn’t respond.
Stephen wished he could comfort and reassure her but, as with Jane, he found himself at a loss for words. What can you say to a woman whose innocence had just been stolen forever? How could a man comfort a woman who just experienced the greed of an evil man’s lust, void of any love or warmth.
After William shut the front door quietly behind them, he said, “I forgot to ask her name. She probably wouldn’t say anything just yet anyway, but I bet it’s a pretty name.”
“She’s scared out of her mind. It’ll take her some time.”
“What kind of men would do such a thing?” William asked.
“The kind that go to hell. They’re being welcomed there right now.”
“How old do you suppose she is?”
“Somewhere between fifteen and seventeen. Pretty thing. Wonder where her folks are? She can’t be living out here in the middle of nowhere alone. At least I hope she isn’t.” Stephen began working on a cook fire for coffee.
“Look at those saddle packs on the porch. I bet they contain Catherine’s stolen goods.” William marched up to the porch and opened them. “The silver teapot is in here. I’m sure the rest of it belongs to Catherine too.”
“I found her husband’s gold watch on one of them. Also found a pouch of money. Haven’t counted it yet. I’m not burying those two skunks. I dumped them off in the woods over that hill. They can be the local coyotes’ dinner for all I care.”
“Probably give the coyotes a bellyache,” William said.
As soon as they had hot coffee made, Stephen warmed the corn cakes that Jane had sent.
William knocked softly and then slowly opened the creaky cabin door. His brother stuck his head in and said, “Miss, the food’s ready if you’re up to eating some. We set up a stool for you by the cook fire if you’d care to join us. I promise you’ll be safe.” He moved off the porch, leaving the door open, and rejoined Stephen at the cook fire.
Slowly, like a wide-eyed scared animal, she peeked around the door, then gradually emerged, still hugging her blanket tightly around her.
Timidly, she regarded Stephen. “Thank you,” she finally said, barely above a whisper.
He didn’t know if she was thanking him for killing her rapists or thanking him for the food. He studied her eyes and they told him it was the former.
“I’m glad you’re up and about. We were worried about you. You’ll feel even better after you get some food and coffee,” William assured her, using a soothing tone. “Here’s a stool we found on the porch. Hope it will be comfortable enough.” William had covered it with a blanket to soften it.
Stephen had never seen this gentle side of William. Normally his brother was insensitive and boisterous, more interested in making people laugh than attending to their needs. He seemed intent on talking to the young lady to help her mind return from her near paralyzing shock.
“Stephen’s the youngest of my four brothers,” William said. “But he’s probably the smartest. Definitely the most adventurous—that’s why our family is headed to Kentucky. He looks mean, but he’s not actually. He’s got a beautiful wife named Jane and…,” William caught himself before he said four, “…two daughters.”
It was the first time Stephen had heard them called two daughters. He swallowed the aching lump in his throat. When reality finally hits, it often comes, as it did now, with a cold vicious slap. The blow stung. What he wanted to do was take off for the woods and scream, not make polite conversation with this young woman. He decided, however, to try to focus on this young lady’s problems, instead of his own.
She moved slowly toward the stool. She eyeballed both of them, seeming to study them.
“What’s your name?” William asked, breaking the awkward silence.
Doubt filled her face as she decided whether to trust them with even her name. She hesitated, blinking, then stared up at William with violet-blue eyes. “Kelly. Kelly McGuffin.”
Kelly had long golden hair, the color of fresh butter that reached an inch or two past her waist. Her big eyes looked like they’d be striking if they weren’t so swollen and red from crying. Stephen thought she’d have a lovely smile too but knew it would be a while before they would have a chance to see it.
“Miss McGuffin, I’m sure you’d like a bite to eat and a cup of hot coffee. My wife Jane made these corn cakes. They’re tasty. Sit down and we’ll bring you some,” he said, motioning again to the stool.
She sat down and winced, then stared at the ground.
Stephen felt his temper rise in response. He looked over at William, whose lips thinned with his effort to suppress his anger.
“After you’ve had something to eat, we’ll give you some ointment for those wrists and ankles. They must sting,” William said. “In addition to baking, Jane has a way with making healing ointments. She made us carry some along. And you’ll probably need some warm water to wash with. We’ll heat some water on this fire after we’ve eaten.”
With that, her eyes seemed to light up a bit and it warmed his heart. He was pleased with the kindness his brother was showing Kelly.
“Stephen, have you taken a look at that sorrel of Mr. Adams yet?” William asked.
“Only from here. He sure is a handsome animal. After a while, I’ll go check over all the horses.”
“They told me they’d give me that steed in payment if I let them stay with me awhile. I was afraid to say no. I didn’t know they would…would do that to me,” she whimpered and began wringing her hands.
Stephen and William exchanged glances, plainly disgusted.
“If they told you that then the animal should be yours. I’m sure Mrs. Adams, the owner, won’t mind since we’ve recovered her other valuables and killed the men that murdered her husband. But if she does, then I’ll buy the horse for you myself, if she’ll sell it,” William offered.
Kelly sniffed, raised her chin, and managed a slight s
mile. “You would do that for me Mr. Wyllie?”
William nodded and smiled. “Please call me William. Best you eat now.”
Kelly wolfed down the corn cake, staring at her feet as she chewed. “They didn’t let me eat for the last day or so,” she said finally. “They wanted what little food I had for themselves.”
Judging from how thin she was, she hadn’t eaten much before that either, Stephen noted.
“I’m so ashamed of what they did to me.” She lowered her head. Tears slipped down her checks. “I don’t know what I’ll do now. Am I ruined?”
“There’s no reason at all for you to feel shame. Those two skunks are the ones who should bear the shame, but they’re far past that now,” William said.
“The sin was all theirs,” Stephen added.
He could see she wanted to believe him. “Miss, where is your family? Are your folks around here?” he asked.
“My Ma died when I was fourteen. She’s buried over there,” she said, pointing to a nearby gravestone on this side of the adjacent hill. “My Pa is off somewhere selling his pelts. He’s a trapper. Traps in the Hopewell Forest north of here in the mountains. I fend for myself.”
“When do you expect him to return?” Stephen asked.
“Don’t know. Been gone for more than two weeks. He always comes back. But I never know how long he’ll be gone—most times it’s several weeks. Sometimes he sells his furs in Harrisburg. At times, I wish he’d just stay away. When he does come back, he stays drunk till his whiskey runs out. He broke this finger last winter.” She held it up for them to view the crooked knuckle. “He didn’t mean to. He was just too drunk to know what he was doing. He wasn’t like that before Ma died. I guess he’s still grieving. It’s been four years though.”
Her father sounded like a real scoundrel. He thought about his own girls and could never imagine treating them so cruelly. He would never harm them. He’d rather die.
“I haven’t properly thanked you both for saving me. I am grateful. They were evil vile men. My Ma told me about men like them. I think they had done this before. The one called Grover told his brother to do it like they did the last time.” She hung her head. “That’s when they tied me up. It hurt so much. The first one took me and then told his brother it was his turn. The second one just started when you came in and saved me.”
Romancing the Wilderness: American Wilderness Series Boxed Bundle Books 1 - 3 Page 19
