Comanche Moon

by Catherine Anderson

  ‘‘Ah, thees ees very good! I like a clean woman.’’

  Loretta wiped soapy water off her cheek with a tremulous hand and stared up at him. Uncle Henry was out in the fields, God only knew where—or if he would even come if he saw what was happening. Hiding behind a bush, more like.

  ‘‘Aunt Rachel! Aunt Rachel, get the gun!’’

  Amy screamed. Loretta took her eyes off the leader to see what had happened. Her blood heated to boiling. Two of the other men were wrestling with Amy, one holding her arms behind her while the other groped under her skirts. Amy jerked and kicked the man in front of her, catching him on the shin. His high-topped boots deflected the blow. A shrill cry of anguish ripped up Amy’s throat when the man’s hand slid inside the waist of her bloomers. Then she let loose with a spray of cuss words that would have done Uncle Henry proud.

  ‘‘Get your hands off my rump, you no-account wart toad!’’

  The Comanchero stuck a boot between Amy’s feet and viciously kicked her ankles until she accommodated him by spreading her legs. Crimson flooded to Amy’s cheeks as the man’s hand found a resting place between her thighs. Then she squealed with pain. The man who held Amy’s arms behind her had his hands full trying to keep her still. Knifing upward with her knee, Amy caught the other man in the groin. He grunted and retreated a step, the color draining from his face.

  ‘‘You little bitch!’’ Drawing back his arm, he slapped Amy so hard that her head jerked sideways and lolled on her shoulder. ‘‘Try that again, and I’ll tie you out on the desert so the vultures can pick your bones.’’

  Before Loretta realized she had moved, she was up and out of that tub, rage lending her impetus. ‘‘Take your hands off her, you filthy animal!’’

  The Comanchero leader caught Loretta around the waist and shoved her to the ground. The sky spun. She saw several of the other men converging on her. The next instant her wrists and ankles were seized in cruel grips, her limbs jerked wide, her skirts thrown high on her thighs. The leader crouched beside her, chuckling at her futile struggles. She heard Amy screaming. Helplessness welled within her. Not Amy.

  Then Aunt Rachel’s voice rang out. ‘‘Freeze, you miserable bastards!’’

  Loretta wrenched her head around to see Aunt Rachel on the porch, skirts billowing, rifle to her shoulder.

  ‘‘Move and I’ll blow your head clean off. Let those girls up, go get your horses, and ride out.’’

  The man who held Amy’s arms pulled his knife and pressed it to the child’s larynx. ‘‘Shoot, ma’am, and I’ll slit this little gal’s gullet.’’

  Rachel’s lips went white.

  ‘‘Now, you jist put down that rifle, real slow and easy like. That is, you better, if you don’t want her dead.’’

  Loretta tossed her head, trying desperately to get up. ‘‘No, Aunt Rachel, don’t do it! Shoot him! Shoot him!’’

  The Comanchero leader slapped Loretta’s mouth. ‘‘¡Silencio!’’ he hissed.

  The taste of blood spilled across Loretta’s tongue.

  Rachel slowly lowered the rifle to the porch, her eyes gigantic splashes of blue. The moment she was unarmed, one of the men leaped onto the porch, kicked the rifle across the planks, and grabbed Rachel’s hair. Dragging her behind him out into the yard, he snarled, ‘‘Three! This is our lucky day, Santos! For an old one, she ain’t bad. Nice tits.’’

  ‘‘Did I not tell you we would have a good time?’’ The Comanchero leader smiled and leaned over Loretta. Grasping the neckline of her dress in his fists, he said, ‘‘And now, let us see what we have here, pretty one.’’

  With that, he ripped Loretta’s homespun from neck to waist, laying bare her chemise. Looking up into his eyes, Loretta knew nothing would forestall him from taking what he wanted. Amy’s screams pierced the air. Loretta strained against the cruel hands that held her wrists and ankles, remembering the times Hunter had held her thus, how gentle his grip had been in comparison.

  As the Comanchero cupped his hands around the fullness of her breasts, his attention shifted to the medallion she had been wearing, concealed from Uncle Henry under her dress. His bleary eyes sharpened, then went wide. He jerked his hands away and quickly crossed himself.

  ‘‘¡Jesucristo!’’ He scrambled backward, his gaze riveted to Loretta’s heaving chest. ‘‘El Lobo!’’ he cried. ‘‘Do not touch her.’’

  As if by magic, Loretta found herself unhanded. She blinked dazedly, not quite sure what had happened. Indeed, the yard had gone deathly silent. She sat up slowly, clutching her ruined bodice. The men who held Amy were studies in motion, their eyes wide with fear. Loretta glanced down. What in blazes?

  She stared at the crude stone medallion that rose and fell against her bosom. And then it struck her. El Lobo, the wolf. Hunter of the Wolf. Her friend had protected her with something more than just lances in the yard. He had left his mark on her person. You will wear it for always?

  A hysterical laugh welled in her throat. And then relief swept through her. Hunter’s woman. They were afraid to harm her! She pushed to her knees. The Comancheros were scattering as if they’d just come face to face with Satan himself.

  The Comanchero leader crossed himself again as he staggered to his feet and ran for his horse, spurs chinking. It sickened Loretta to see the likes of him praying.

  ‘‘Leave the old one. She won’t be worth the trouble,’’ one of the men barked.

  Loretta turned in time to see Aunt Rachel shoved roughly to the ground. Then she realized two of the men still had Amy and were carrying her away between them. She lurched to her feet.

  ‘‘You bring her back here!’’ Loretta screeched. ‘‘El Lobo will kill you if you take her! I’m warning you!’’

  As they dragged Amy closer to the horses, the child’s dauntless courage deserted her, and she sobbed Loretta’s name. ‘‘Let go of me! No, don’t take me! Ma!’’ Her voice rose to a shrill scream. ‘‘Ma-aa-a! Loretta! Stop them!’’

  Her soaked skirts shackling her legs, Loretta ran for the porch. Grabbing up the rifle, she threw the butt to her shoulder and tried to sight in, terrified she might hit Amy. ‘‘I’m warning you! Let go of her, or I’ll shoot!’’

  Ignoring Loretta, the men tossed Amy onto a horse. One of the men mounted quickly behind her. Loretta took careful aim at his head. She had no doubt she could knock him out of the saddle. ‘‘I mean it!’’

  ‘‘Shoot me and you can bury me with your sister!’’

  Loretta saw a knife glint and knew the man had the blade pressed to Amy’s throat. The little girl was sobbing, ‘‘Please, don’t kill me. Please don’t.’’

  Rachel cried, ‘‘Loretta, no. He means it. He’ll kill her.’’

  ‘‘Damned right I will.’’

  Loretta’s legs turned to water. Amy’s sobs were testimony to how terrified she was, and Loretta’s heart twisted. Amy didn’t cry easily. She snugged her finger on the trigger. ‘‘Santos! If you take that child, I’ll send the Wolf after you.’’ Thinking of Hunter, how angry he would be if he were there, lent Loretta courage. ‘‘He and his men marked every foot of this property with their lances, fair warning that all who live here are under his protection. I swear to you, he’ll hunt you down and kill you.’’

  Santos smiled. ‘‘I think you lie. I see no lances.’’

  "My uncle removed them."

  "Señorita, I do not take the girl. Thees other man does. And you do not know hees name. I cannot be blamed, eh? El Lobo weel understand thees. He weel also understand that I meant no harm to hees woman. The stone was hidden under your dress, no? How could I see?’’

  The Comancheros wheeled their horses and rode off in a cloud of dust. Loretta stared after them a moment, her mind racing, and then sprinted toward the barn to get her horse. She had to find Uncle Henry. There was no time to spare. Someone had to round up a group of men and go after Amy.

  Chapter 15

  LORETTA HELD HER STALLION’S REINS, LISTENING in frozen silence as
Tom Weaver and Uncle Henry discussed Amy’s plight. Riding over to the Weaver place had already wasted half an hour of precious time. Now the two men were mulling over the situation as only dirt-farming Texans could—slower than two flies on tack paper. Loretta could have screamed in frustration and fear. Why didn’t they do something? Every extra minute took Amy farther away from them.

  ‘‘Ain’t no way in hell a small group of men can track ’em.’’ Tom scraped his boot against the edge of his rickety porch to rid the heel of cow dung. ‘‘They’ll split up and go sev’ral different directions. Without a big group of men, we’ll have to split up, too. And divided into small numbers, there ain’t no way we can take on the likes of them. Them Comanchero are damned good with guns, Henry. We’d be dead before we ever cleared leather.’’

  Henry ran a hand over his hair. ‘‘We gotta do somethin’, Tom. They’ve got Amy. We have to find ’em before—’’ He broke off. ‘‘First Loretta, now Amy. What’ll people think? That I can’t protect my own, that’s what. Besides that, Rachel’s fit to be tied. If’n I don’t find Amy, I’ll never hear the last of it. You’ve heard the tales about Santos. He’s as mean-hearted as they come. Won’t matter squat to him that Amy’s only twelve.’’

  Tom’s face looked drawn. He leaned a shoulder against his porch post and scratched his scraggly beard, gazing sightlessly at Loretta’s stallion. Loretta measured seconds by the wild slamming of her heart, and when he didn’t speak she wanted to grab him by the shirt and shake him. She kept seeing that filthy Comanchero groping his hand in Amy’s bloomers.

  ‘‘Ain’t no man I know could find a Comanchero camp,’’ Tom said wearily. ‘‘I’ve heard tell that they hole up in the Palo Duro Canyon sometimes, but it’s a long shot they’d be heading that direction now. It’s a far piece from here, for one, and a long ways to go on a wild goose chase, for another.’’

  Loretta hugged her waist, acutely aware that the shirt Uncle Henry had lent her was damp with his sweat. At least she had something to cover her. Did Amy? Those men might have torn her dress off by now. They might— She cut the thought short and cried, ‘‘A long shot’s better than doing nothing.’’

  Tom shook his head. ‘‘Not so. We could waste a good two weeks of hard riding, maybe three, lightin’ off for the Palo Duro Canyon. They’d have Amy clear across the Rio and sold before we got back here and regrouped.’’

  ‘‘Sold?’’ Loretta squeaked.

  ‘‘Deep into Mexico.’’ Tom didn’t meet Loretta’s gaze. ‘‘There’s men down there who’ll pay a king’s ransom for a blonde with blue eyes. I’m surprised they didn’t take you. Thank God they didn’t.’’

  Loretta wasn’t about to explain why she’d been spared. Uncle Henry would tear the medallion from her neck. She’d never see it again, and it was the only thing that had saved her.

  Henry slammed his fist into his palm. ‘‘There’s gotta be somebody who can find ’em.’’

  ‘‘A Comanch’, maybe.’’

  Henry snorted. ‘‘A lot of good that does us.’’

  Loretta stepped closer. ‘‘Comanches could find them?’’

  ‘‘Hell, yes.’’ Tom sucked his teeth, then spat tobacco juice near the sagging stoop. ‘‘They trade with ’em, honey. How do ya think they get their rifles and ammo?’’

  Loretta’s pulse increased tempo, the sound a rapid drumbeat inside her ears. ‘‘Trade with them? You mean that the Comanches I was with—they could find Amy? Hunter could find her?’’

  Tom’s gaze sharpened on hers. ‘‘Don’t even think it.’’

  Ignoring him, Loretta stepped around her stallion and grabbed his mane to haul herself up. ‘‘It’s Amy out there, Tom.’’

  Tom lunged off the porch, trying to grab Loretta’s horse’s bridle before she could ride off. The black reared and evaded Tom’s hand. ‘‘For Pete’s sake, use the brains God gave you.’’

  ‘‘I am. That’s why I’m going!’’

  ‘‘You ain’t neither,’’ Tom growled. ‘‘You go back, Loretta Jane, and we’ll never set eyes on ya again.’’

  ‘‘You don’t know that.’’ Loretta shifted to keep her seat on the nervous stallion. Hunter hadn’t exaggerated. The animal fought having anyone but her touch him. ‘‘He brought me back once, didn’t he?’’

  ‘‘He won’t a second time. I can’t let you do somethin’ so reckless.’’

  ‘‘It’s not your place to say,’’ Loretta shot back.

  ‘‘Maybe she’s got something there, Tom,’’ Henry inserted. ‘‘He did take a shine to Loretta. He might not hurt her.’’

  Tom reached up and grasped Loretta’s hands so she couldn’t rein her mount. ‘‘Git down, girl, or I swear I’ll drag you off.’’

  Loretta met his gaze. ‘‘You can’t stop me, Tom. If he can find her, I’m going to him.’’

  ‘‘Are you crazed? Say he found her for ya? Which is worse, girl, Comanches or Comanchero?’’

  Henry passed a hand over his eyes. ‘‘For God’s sake, why not let her go? Loretta’s future is done ruint, anyhow.’’

  ‘‘Ruint?’’ Keeping a grip on Loretta’s wrist, Tom whirled on his neighbor. ‘‘I’ve met some heartless bastards in my time, but I swear, you take the prize. You got any idea what they’ll do to her over a period of time? Any idea at all? If she could find them. More’n likely she’d git herself lost out there.’’

  Loretta tensed. This wasn’t the time for talking. She watched Tom, waiting for the right moment. When his grip on her wrist loosened, she kicked her stallion’s flanks. The black surged forward in a powerful leap, knocking Tom off his feet.

  ‘‘Loretta Jane, come back here!’’

  Loretta lay low over her horse’s neck, urging him to go faster. She had to get home, gather some things for traveling, and leave before Henry and Tom could round up Tom’s horse and get there to stop her.

  After throwing together some food at her niece’s order, Rachel followed Loretta up to the loft, wringing her hands and weeping. Frantic to pack what she needed and flee, Loretta darted around the tiny room, stuffing things into a satchel. He’ll never bring me back. Never. The words played inside her head, a warning she refused to heed. She couldn’t allow herself to think about anything but Amy.

  Loretta jerked open the drawer of the bedside table and scooped out her mother’s diamond comb and her father’s razor. The comb was almost too beautiful to take along, but she was already sacrificing enough without relinquishing her keepsakes as well.

  Rachel doubled her hands into fists at her sides, her blue eyes riveted to Loretta’s face. ‘‘You aren’t going back to him. You can’t. I won’t let you.’’

  ‘‘Aunt Rachel . . .’’ Loretta closed the drawer. ‘‘Hunter never mistreated me when I was with him. That’s more than I can say for what those Comancheros will do to Amy.’’

  The color drained from Rachel’s face, and she swayed as if she might faint. ‘‘Is it? He’s a Comanche, Loretta. You can’t know what he’ll do. How could you? You can’t predict an animal’s behavior. You aren’t thinkin’ straight.’’

  ‘‘Maybe not! But it’s something I have to do. You’d do the same. Don’t stand there and tell me you wouldn’t.’’

  Rachel met Loretta’s gaze. ‘‘Say you find him—’’

  ‘‘I will find him. He taught me how to follow his trail.’’

  ‘‘It’ll be too late for Amy.’’

  ‘‘Too late for what?’’ Loretta cried.

  ‘‘She’ll never be the same. You know what they’ll do to her. She’ll never forget, never. Even if you bring her back, her future’ll be destroyed. No God-fearing man will ever marry her.’’

  Loretta closed the clasp on the satchel and hugged it to her breasts, staring incredulously at her aunt. A picture flashed in her mind of Rachel standing on the porch, sighting her rifle on her. Blessed release? Or insanity? Was a woman truly worth so little that her whole life rode on whether or not she was chaste? They were talking about
Amy, sweet, bright-eyed, courageous little Amy.

  ‘‘You’re the one not thinking straight, Aunt Rachel.’’

  Tears streamed down Rachel’s face. She cupped a palsied hand over her eyes. ‘‘She’s my child. No one loves her more than me. It’s just—first I lost you. And by the grace of God, you’ve come home. Now, it’s Amy. There’s only so much I can take. If I let you walk out that door, I’ll have lost you both.’’

  ‘‘Oh, Aunt Rachel.’’ Loretta clasped the other woman’s shoulder. ‘‘Have faith. We’ll both be back.’’

  ‘‘That animal will never bring you home again. You know it as well as I do. I can see it in your eyes.’’

  Loretta couldn’t dispute the truth, so she said nothing.

  ‘‘You’re right, you know,’’ Rachel whispered. ‘‘If I could be the one to go, I would. She’s my daughter.’’

  ‘‘And she’s my little sister. Maybe not by blood, but in all the ways that count. Hunter—he may be too late to spare her completely. But he can reach her before they take her across the border.’’ Loretta’s stomach quivered with fear, fear she refused to analyze. ‘‘He’s only three days ahead of me. The village won’t have moved this quickly. I can find them. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.’’

  ‘‘At least take some men with you for protection.’’

  ‘‘Against an army of Comanches? They’d all be killed. And Hunter would feel betrayed. He’s left me a trail out there to follow. If I show it to his enemies . . .’’ Loretta started down the loft steps. ‘‘No. This is something I must do alone. I can’t take time to argue, Aunt Rachel. Tom’ll get here any minute. He’ll try to stop me.’’

  Rachel tore down the steps after Loretta, her sobs high-pitched and ragged. ‘‘At least change your dress. Take a minute to think!’’

  ‘‘I’ll change clothes on the trail.’’ Grabbing the pack of food off the table, Loretta slung it over her shoulder and strode across the room. ‘‘I’ve done my thinking.’’