Christine Dorsey (38 page)

He was leaving today—really leaving. They had talked last night after making love. He couldn’t stay here. Not with the army out to get him—and Samantha had no doubt they were.

Jake didn’t deserve such treatment. He’d remained as long as he had because of her—to help and protect her. But she didn’t need his help anymore. And he had to leave.

Samantha could tell it hurt him to say it. He cared about her... she knew that. But apparently the painful memories of his wife and son, and of the war, made it impossible for his feelings to run as strong and deep as hers. She loved him pure and simple. She’d always love him.

But when he woke up, he’d mount his horse and ride away... and she’d never see him again.

Samantha took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of hay and animals and Jake.

He hadn’t asked her to go with him.

Closing her eyes, Samantha relived their conversation last night as they lay on the twisted army blanket. Never once had he suggested she give up everything and follow him. Never once.

But she hadn’t really expected him to. He was a Rebel, a drifter, wandering off to who-knows-where. And she had responsibilities. Will. The farm.

She stared at the cobweb-laced rafters and let her mind take flight. She imagined him asking her... begging her to ride off with him. What would she say?

“You look pensive this morning. What are you thinking about?” Jake rolled onto his shoulder and traced her profile with the tip of his finger.

“Nothing,” Samantha lied. She shifted toward him, forcing herself to smile. “How do you feel this morning?”

“Like a cannon rolled over me,” he teased, then grinned when her expression grew concerned. “No, really, I don’t hurt too much. Like I told you yesterday, nothing’s broken.”

“That’s what you said, but then you also don’t seem to trust the doctor in you, so...”

“Now, Samantha. I told you I’m not interested in practicing medicine anymore.”

The blanket pooled around her waist as Samantha sat up. “You said you’d give it some thought.”

“Did I say that?” Jake leaned forward to kiss the valley between her breasts.

Samantha sucked in her breath and her head fell back. “You... you certainly did. Last night.”

“I must have been distracted.” Jake lowered Samantha down on the gray army blanket and settled on top of her. He kissed her eyes, cheeks, and the tip of her nose, then settled in for a very distracting assault of her mouth. When he lifted his head, they were both breathing heavily. His fingers caught in a tangle of golden hair and his green eyes grew serious. “I’m going to miss you, Samantha Lowery.”

It was in her mind to plead with him to stay—or take her along— anything so they could be together. She opened her mouth to say it when the clucking and fluttering of chickens drifted in through the barn’s window holes. “Will,” she moaned. “Will’s up.”

Jake gave an exaggerated sigh, kissed her again, then rolled onto the blanket. “Maybe it’s better this way.” He scrubbed his hands down across his face, wincing when he rubbed the area around his eyes. “I could stay here and make love to you all day but it wouldn’t change the way things are.”

He shook his head then turned to her. “Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll go have a talk with Will. I imagine he’ll have some questions after last night.”

Samantha nodded and watched Jake pull on his pants and shirt. After stomping into his boots, he reached down and pulled Samantha up beside him. His kiss was warm and deep... and it was a kiss of good-bye.

He left the barn then and Samantha heard him call to Will, suggesting they walk down toward the creek. “These bruises could use a soak in cold water.” Samantha imagined him giving Will’s hat a tug and her brother scurrying to keep up with Jake’s longer stride. Will wouldn’t be happy when Jake told him he was leaving.

Dejectedly Samantha pulled on her clothes and made her way to the house. In the quiet of her bedroom she stripped off her wrinkled dress and washed with the chilly water in the pitcher. Her skin puckered and goose bumps covered her arms but Samantha was so miserable she hardly noticed. She brushed out her hair, donned a clean dress, and went out to start breakfast.

Will had already stoked the stove so she took a large pottery bowl off the shelf and mixed up a batch of griddle cakes. It helped some to stay busy and she hoped she’d be able to hold herself together until Jake left. After that, she really didn’t care what happened.

When she heard footsteps on the porch and the door opening, she started ladling batter onto the hot skillet. “Breakfast will be ready soon,” she said without looking up.

“That’s real nice of you, Samantha, but neither of us is going to stay around to eat it.”

The bowl slipped from her hands, splattering batter and pottery shards all over the floor as Samantha whirled around. “What are
you
doing here?”

“Now is that any way to greet your old true love?”

“You were never my true love, Bundy Atwood, and you know it. Now get out of my house?”

He snorted and stepped forward and Samantha made a mad dash for the musket hung over the hearth. “Oh no you don’t, you bitch.” He grabbed her about the waist, lifting her off the floor and stopping her struggles with a savage yank of her hair. “Did you really think I’d ride off and leave you all safe and happy? Huh?” He tugged on her hair till tears streamed down Samantha’s face. “Did ya?”

“Let me go,” Samantha sobbed, her hands trying to fight his painful grip on her scalp.

“Sure I’ll let you go. After I’m done with you. And Landis is. And Ab. And anyone else who wants a piece of a lying, nigger-loving whore.”

~ ~ ~

“I still don’t understand why you have to go, Jake. Don’t you like us no more?”

“That’s not it at all.” Jake splashed clear, cold water onto his face. “I’m real fond of you.” Jake took a deep breath. “And Samantha. It’s just not as simple as that.” Jake glanced back to where Will sat on the bank, his crutch by his side.

“It’s ’cause of what those soldiers done to you, isn’t it?”

“That’s part of it,” Jake admitted. “But not all. What happened in town just reminded me that I don’t belong here.”

“So you’re heading for Texas. Just like that.”

“It isn’t just like that, Will. That’s where I was going when I stopped off here. Remember? I’m only finishing the trip.”

Will snapped off a stalk of grass and stuck it in his mouth, chewing on it a second before looking up and meeting Jake’s eyes. “Did Sam know you was leaving before she went out to the barn last night?”

Jake stood, raising his face to the blue sky that reminded him so much of Samantha’s eyes, then looked back at Will. He met his stare man to man. “Yes she did, Will. You have to understand— Now where are you going?”

Will struggled to standing, balancing precariously on one leg while he positioned the crutch. “You’re no better than Bundy Atwood. Taking what you want then not caring a hang about her.”

“Now wait a minute.” Jake reached for Will but he jerked away. “For one thing, Samantha and I both knew what we were doing. When you get older, maybe you’ll understand.” Jake dropped his hand. “I care about Samantha very much.”

Will’s expression was disbelieving. He turned and started up the path, Charity trotting along beside him.

“And for another thing, Bundy Atwood never took anything from your sister.”

“Yeah, but you sure as hell did, didn’t you, Jake?” Will stumbled, then righted himself, and hobbled as quickly as he could toward the cabin.

“Shit.” Jake mumbled the word under his breath as he kicked a rock into the creek. So much for explaining things to Will man to man. Maybe it didn’t work because Will wasn’t a man yet. Or maybe... Jake shook his head. Maybe it didn’t work because Jake didn’t have good enough reasons for what he did... for what he was going to do.

If that was the case, then what in the hell was he supposed to do? Jake took a deep breath and tossed a stone into the creek.

~ ~ ~

Will stumbled again and nearly fell when Charity darted in front of him, but he found his footing and kept going. He was heading toward the cabin but he didn’t want to see his sister. He didn’t want to see anyone.

He’d liked Jake from the first; loved him as only a boy could love a man he admired. He thought the feeling was mutual.

But somehow some man-woman thing between Jake and Sam had messed things up. That and the soldiers beating Jake. All these forces he had no control over were making Jake leave. Just like Luke.

Will took a moment to lean against the corner of the barn. His leg was aching and he rested his cheek against the sod, breathing in the familiar scent of earth and grass.

A noise off in the distance caught his attention. Will wasn’t sure he’d heard anything till he looked down and saw Charity perk up her ears. She trotted around the side of the soddy, then suddenly let loose with a peal of sharp barks before racing across the yard.

Will pushed away from the barn, rounding the corner as fast as his broken leg and crutch would allow. His eyes widened in shock at what he saw. “Let her be,” Will screamed as he part skipped, part scrambled, toward the stand of trees where Bundy Atwood was tossing Sam over a horse.

Lying across the saddle, she was struggling, hitting out with her hands and kicking at Atwood as he mounted behind her. Atwood threw one thigh over her legs and shoved her head down before gathering up the reins.

“Wait till we get you to Missouri,” Will heard Bundy yell at Samantha before he turned his horse.

Atwood was riding straight at Will, thundering toward him across the yard’s packed ground. The chickens scattered, flapping their wings in protest. Will knew he should run, but his feet seemed rooted to the spot. Charity barked and yelped, digging in her front paws and snapping her jaws, and still Will didn’t move.

He saw the gun and Samantha’s hair streaming like a banner. Then she squirmed about, arching her back and clawing at Bundy’s arm. Bundy fired wild then erupted into a stream of cursing as he dropped the revolver.

Will leaped toward it just as Atwood jerked on the reins, forcing his mount’s head up. Then seeing Will clutching the gun, he turned, galloping out of the yard in a cloud of dust.

“Jake! Jake!” Will screamed as Jake exploded around the cabin. “He’s got Sam!”

“Who?” Jake rushed toward him, kneeling down in the dirt. “Who’s got her?” Jake had heard the shot and come running.

“Atwood... he took off with her.” Will clutched Jake’s shirt. “He’s taking her to Missouri. I heard him say.”

Jake’s jaw clenched and he jumped up. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Will pushed to sitting. “But Sam!”

“I’ll get her.” Jake raced toward the barn. Within minutes he emerged, leading two horses. He’d also strapped on his other gun.

By this time Will was back on his feet, leaning heavily on his crutch:

“I need you to do something.”

“Anything, Jake.” Gone were the differences of ten minutes ago. “You want me to go with you?”

“No.” Jake lifted Will into the saddle, shoving and pushing till the boy was settled. “I want you to go to town. Tell Lieutenant Farrow what you saw. Tell him Atwood is probably taking Samantha to his uncle’s place. He did say Missouri, didn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Will’s splinted leg stuck forward. “Missouri, that’s what he said. But Jake.” Will grabbed up the reins. “Bundy said ‘we.’ ‘Wait till
we
get you to Missouri.’ Moore must be with him.”

“Get the army, Will.”

“Don’t let them hurt Sam.”

“I won’t.” Jake gave Will’s mare a smack on the rump. The next moment Jake was in the saddle riding off toward Missouri.

~ ~ ~

Samantha’s head pounded and the strong scent of lathered horse filled her nostrils. Every step the horse took compounded the ache in her stomach, and the nausea was like a cloud enveloping her.

She’d never known such physical agony.

Yet the end of the ride promised an even worse fate. Bundy Atwood made it abundantly clear what he and Moore’s men had planned for her.

The blood rushing to her head dulled her reasoning, but still Samantha tried to plan an escape. Nothing came to mind. And soon she only wished for a swift death to end the misery of the present, and the unthinkable future.

Samantha didn’t know how far they’d traveled. She seemed to swim in and out of consciousness. But the horse was slowing, and when it stopped, she felt herself being shoved feet first off the winded animal.

She tried to catch herself, but her legs crumpled under her and she sprawled unceremoniously in the dirt.

“See you got her.”

Samantha cringed when she heard that voice, even though she knew what Moore had planned for her.

“Said I would.” That was Atwood, and Samantha cautiously brushed hair out of her face to see who else was about. She counted eight men including Landis, his brother Ab, and Atwood. And they were all looking down at her with feral expressions on their unwashed faces.

“You’ll pay for this... all of you.” Samantha’s voice was weaker than she wished but at least it was firm.

Moore’s snort of laughter told her he wasn’t impressed by her words or the evenness of her delivery. “No one’s coming after you. No one even cares that we’ve got you.”

“Ah, Landis.” Atwood squirmed in his saddle. “That brother of hers was there.”

Bundy’s eyes flew toward Ab. “Thought I told you to kill him.”

“I did. I mean I thought I did. I’m sorry, Landis. Don’t be mad with me.”

Landis ignored his brother’s sniveling and looked back toward Atwood. “Why in the hell didn’t you take care of him?”

“The bitch here bit me and I dropped my gun. The boy was there diving for it and some dog was nipping at my horse. I figured it was time to git.” Bundy straightened his shirt. “Besides the kid was hurt. Something wrong with his leg. He ain’t nothing to worry about.”

Moore leaned over his pommel. “Let’s move. We’ll be across the border by sundown. And then we’ll have ourselves a little fun.”

This time Bundy pulled Samantha up in front of him. She was spared the humiliation and discomfort of being tossed across the saddle. But she did have to contend with his ongoing description of what he had planned for her that night.