Pioneer Passion (34 page)

She watched the six men make them selves
comfortable in her home, sitting on the beautiful furniture with
dirty and grimy clothes. They hung their legs over the arms of the
delicate chairs. The one she heard called Pinkie put his big feet
up on a table, scratching it with his spurs. She winced; furniture
could be replaced, not a human life. They didn’t seem to care about
either. A more disreputable horde of cutthroats she had never seen
and she was beside herself with worry for Scott. She again
remembered Susan and prayed the girl had enough sense to hide or go
for help. Her friend was so timid that she hoped she’d find the
courage to do the right thing.

The leader found a bottle of whiskey in Guy’s
cabinet, took a couple of long swigs and then passed it around.
When it returned to him, he took another mouthful then wiped his
dirty chin on his soiled shirtsleeve. He licked his lips and winked
at her, saying, “Yer man has good taste in his liquor and in his
women.” He complimented her, lifting the bottle for another drink.
“How’s about a swallow, missy?” he taunted. “It might make ya a
little more hospitable towards me and my men.”

He put the bottle up to her lips but she
tightened them, branding him with a repulsed leer and turned he
head away.

“Damn ya, ya little snip! But I like feisty
redheads.” He grabbed Rusty’s hair, turning her head and causing
every root ending in her head to pain. She sneered and knocked the
bottle from the bastard’s hand. Cursing, he grabbed and lifted her
cruelly by the arm as she swung her free hand, but soon found it
pinned behind her back. Her body was pressed against his and his
hot smelly breath made her gag.

“Think yer too good fer us? Well, I think
miss high and mighty needs to be taught a lesson.”

He pressed his rancid mouth over hers,
bruising her lips. Bile rose in her throat but she kept her mouth
pressed tight, resisting the urge to bite his lower lip. She
wouldn’t yield to his demanding kiss, so he let her go and she spat
on the floor.

“You’re the most repulsive man I’ve ever had
the misfortune to meet!” she hissed, wiping her mouth with the back
of her hand. “When was the last time you bathed?”

He grinned displaying his stained teeth and
squeezing her shoulder, he snickered, “A bath? Let’s see. I think
it was sometime last summer when me and my horse fell in the
river.” His men laughed. “But, my purty wild flower, I think I
could be persuaded to bathe if a purty thing like ya would wash my
back and....” he licked his lips, “join me.”

He nuzzled her neck and when Rusty tried once
again to free herself from his clutches, he lost his temper and
pushed her back onto the sofa. “By the time I finish with ya, ya
won’t be so uppity, my little wild flower.” She cringed; her
stomach clenched tight knowing what he meant. She promised herself
she would rather die than have her body molested by him or any of
the others.

Over by the window, a man yelled as he looked
out. “Hey, boss! I think we better take our hostages and leave
before someone rides in.” He took a moment pondering about
something. “Boss, where’s the other one? That one’s friend?” he
asked and pointed to Rusty. She felt her stomach knot, knowing the
outlaw was referring to Susan. He scratched his head in thought
again and then his opened his eyes wide when he remembered. “Yeah
Susan, the little one with the big brown eyes; she should be
somewhere around.”

Yates leered at her. “Damn, I was so taken in
by yer beauty, I plumb forgot ’bout the other one.”

Rusty swallowed; she had to think fast. “She…
she went into town with our cook, Mattie, to visit a friend.” She
prayed that she could lie well and fidgeted. Her hands balled into
tight fists in her lap, hoping the outlaw would believe her. It was
sheer determination that kept her from faltering, looking into both
men’s eyes. “They’re staying overnight and… and won’t be back ’till
tomorrow.” She wanted them to believe there was no reason to hang
around. If only they would leave. She licked her dry mouth
recalling something Jake said, something about hostages. Her blood
ran cold and she felt the hairs on her back of her neck rise when
the leader studied her for a moment and spat, “I don’t believe
her.”

Yates turned to look at the man by the
window. “Jake, didn’t ya say both women were here?” Jake gave the
leader a nod and he ordered, “Go and check the grounds and the
barn.”

Rusty squeezed her eyes shut, praying again
for her friend. A hand went under her chin like a vice, forcing her
to open her lids. She blinked back tears, looking into the hard,
dark eyes of her tormentor.

“Ya better not be lyin’ or it’ll go hard on
ya. I might change my mind ’bout keepin’ ya jest fer meself.”

Rusty pulled her face from his painful grip
and shuddered. Her heart thumped hard in her chest making her feel
as if his hand had closed around her throat.

Susan had been preoccupied in the barn with
the new colt she named Duke. Rusty’s scream startled her, making
her run to the barn door and stop short when she saw her friend
sitting on the ground, leaning over something. It was her quick
thinking that made her hesitate and hide in the shadows. Her heart
went to her throat hearing Rusty screaming at the strangers, but
she couldn’t hear what was being said because the fear she felt
caused a buzzing in her ears. She put her hands over her mouth when
she saw one of the men grab Rusty, but was still unable to make out
what was on the ground since the men were gathered all around. She
shrunk back into the shadows when the men took Rusty in the house,
leaving a lump in the dirt.

Susan squinted into the sun and it was then
she saw the auburn head. “Scott! Oh, no,” she croaked. Was he
dead?

She couldn’t risk going out there and tried
to concentrate. Mattie was in town visiting a friend. The men were
out on the range and Guy was nowhere around. Her head fell back
onto the barn door and she cried pondering on what to do. She
couldn’t ride or handle a gun. Even if she owned a weapon, she
didn’t think she could shoot anyone. She went up and hid in the
hayloft when one of the men entered. She swallowed, trying to
control her nerves; she must keep her head if she wanted to help
Scott and Rusty.

She blinked back tears, wondering if Scott
was beyond help, and her heart stood still while the outlaw
searched the stalls, looking for her. She looked overhead and saw a
pulley for hoisting up hay. If she could unhook the rope at the
right moment she might hit him on the head.

With shaking hands, she fumbled with the knot
and held the heavy hook in her sweaty palms, hoping he would walk
back to the center of the barn. Her prayers were answered; he
appeared in the spot she hoped he would.

After terrifying moments, her eyes shut, she
let go of the hook and heard the crack of his skull. Slowly, Susan
peeked; he lay on the floor unconscious. Her legs shook like twigs
in a gale when descending the ladder and she crept over, praying he
was still out. All the time, her stomach hurt from fright, fearing
any moment he could come to and leap up at her. Panic never
penetrated her soul as much as it did at that moment.

Cautiously, Susan leaned over and gasped when
she saw his head crushed and split open like a melon from the blow.
Her stomach lurched at the horrible sight, making her double over
and vomit. When the sickness passed and she could stand, she made
herself grab his feet, keeping her eyes from his face as she tugged
with all her strength. Inch by inch, she pulled him into one of the
empty stalls and covered him with hay, then placed clean straw on
the blood and vomit. Once again, she went to the barn door and
peeked out making sure no one was coming. Slightly relieved, she
breathed easier when she saw no one else around but could still see
Scott lying in a heap. She had to do something.

Then Scott moved and rolled over to lie on
his back. She saw his body jerk. It was enough to know he was alive
and a sharp intake of her breath sobered her. He lay still for a
few seconds, and then rolled over again and she believed he was
trying to get to the barn. Susan whispered to him to keep coming,
hoping that when he was close enough, she could chance running over
and helping him. She knew that each turn was sheer agony for Scott.
As he neared the barn, she continued whispering to him. He rolled
some more until she was able to drag him into the shelter.

“Oh, Scott,” Susan sobbed.

Her hands tremble when she untied his bound
hands and feet. He recoiled in agony and she cradled him in her
loving embrace.

“Thank god, you’re safe,” he croaked. “I have
to gather my strength to get you and Rusty out of the mess. Susan,”
he moaned, “my shoulder is dislocated and I’m in a bad way. You
have to pull it back into the socket if I’m to be of any help.”

“Oh,” she cringed. “I... I can’t do
that!”

He tried to sit and moaned, “God, my head is
spinning like a top. “You have to try, Susan.”

Frightened, she bit her lower lip with
uncertainty. He was right, but the thought made her stomach grow
queasy again. She had come this far and even killed a man,
something she was fighting not to remember. She swallowed hard.
“What do I have to do?”

“Help me over to that post. I’ll hold on
while you pull on my arm with all your strength.”

Susan didn’t believe she had any strength
left in her, but when she held him up and kept him from falling,
she found she had more than she gave herself credit for. She also
discovered that she was braver than she thought possible.

Scott knelt and ordered, “Now,” and he held
onto the post with his good arm.

Hearing his voice laced with pain, Susan took
a deep breath, and with trembling hands, yanked. She heard the pop
and moan, before he fell on his side and she believed he was
fighting the dizziness to keep his senses. “Rip off some of your
petticoat. I’ll need a sling.”

Without hesitating, she picked up her plain
cotton dress, ripped off half the undergarment and quickly made a
sling. Scott’s whole body was wracked with sweat and she prayed he
would not pass out again. Soon the outlaws would realize that the
man she killed had been gone a long time and someone would come
searching. Also, any minute the possibility of Scott’s
disappearance would be discovered.

While tying the sling, Susan quickly
explained what she had done to one of the men. He praised her for
taking it upon herself to do such a thing and told her that she had
to keep up her courage because he needed her to help him with his
plan.

“Susan, stand by the door and signal me when
you spot someone coming. Lead the man into the barn and I’ll handle
it from there. As long as a single man comes out searching, I can
take care of him but… if more than one appears, we’re in
trouble.”

She agreed and went to the door just in time
to see another exit the house and pull out his gun when he saw the
empty spot where Scott had been lying. Nervously, she walked out of
the barn, catching the man’s eye. She waited long enough for him to
get a good look then ran back into the structure and stood only a
few feet from the entrance as the outlaw came in.

“Well, lookee what we have here.” The man
eyed the place suspiciously looking for the other. “So, it was ya
who caused Jake fer not returnin’? She felt impaled by his steady
gaze. “Did he drag that fellow in here, found ya and took his time
gettin’ back?” Her bravery waning, she stepped back. He licked his
lips, and snickered, “I don’t mind gobblin’ up some of yer sweet
confection meself.” He craned his neck looking over her shoulder,
and she suspected he was expecting to see his partner appear.

Susan edged herself back some more.

“Hey, missy, why don’t ya spend some time
with me?” he drawled. He looked around again. “Hey Jake, it’s me,
Hank. What ya doin’, takin’ a nap? This little slip of a gal wore
ya out?”

His laugh was down right dirty and he had a
sinister gleam in his beady eyes making her nervously bite her
bottom lip. Mesmerized, Susan saw Scott circling his way behind the
ugly man and she blinked when the shovel came down on the
unsuspecting head and her knees buckled.

“Susan,” Scott called softly to her.

She looked at his pale, sweaty face and
jumped, forgetting her queasiness and went to him. He leaned on her
and said, “We have to hide him. Help me pull him over.”

This man was much bigger than the other one
and Susan needed all the help Scott could give her. With his good
arm and her two, it was still a struggle. Scott then sat on the
straw panting, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He looked up and
he said before she asked about Rusty. He must have read her
thought.

“We have to help Rusty. I’m not much good
this way. If you can get a gun to her, she could fend for herself.
She’s a good shot and wouldn’t hesitate shooting anyone if it meant
her life. I don’t like what I’m about to suggest, and if you’re too
scared, it’s okay.” Susan twisted her hands nervously, fretting
over his words. “You have to go in the house with Hank’s weapon
hidden on you. Can you do that?” She nodded as if her head were
attached to a string. “Are you sure? You’ll be taking a great
risk.” Susan swallowed hard and nodded again. Her throat was so dry
from fright that she couldn’t speak.

Scott took her hand and smiled wanly. “You’re
very brave.” She shook her head in protest. She didn’t feel very
brave and she was petrified at the thought of going in there with
those men. “Think up something believable to tell them,” Scott
suggested. “While you have their attention, I’ll ride out for help.
I don’t think they’ll harm you or Rusty. I believe they want you
both for ransom.”

She tried to believe Scott; she needed to
know she was somewhat safe in order to pull this off.