White Moon Rising Page 18

  “You ain’t the first, and I ain’t dead.” Horner chuckled. “Although, you’re the most beautiful. Had I not promised them, I would keep you all to myself.”

  Grasping the Derringer in her dress pocket, everything inside her calmed down. She was still frightened, but ready. There was no doubt in her mind, she would let him get close and then kill him.

  The boy would help her, she was sure of that, and Elijah as well, but there were three men against them. She must kill one quickly.

  Elijah, in a quiet voice, but one with steel in it said, “I’se protect her. You not harm her.”

  Patton said, “Don’t be a fool, nigger. Stay out of this and you may live.” He shrugged, “Who knows?”

  Kneeling, beside the fire, Elijah stirred the coals under the coffee. He touched the pot, but jerked his hand back.

  Abbey met Elijah’s gaze. He was telling her something. The coffee. The hot coffee. That was a weapon, too. She remembered hearing the old mountain man talk to her father in the store. He said, “Anything could be a weapon. Man had been killing each other thousands of years before they invented guns.”

  That was the thing. Not to run, for she could not run as fast as any one of them. Running away would leave her vulnerable. She had to be alert and watch her chances.

  The coffee had been one thought, but there were others. There was a long stick near the fire. She took it up and poked it in as if feeding the flames.

  “Let us eat, Elijah. Our pleasures will come later,” Patton said.

  Horner glanced at her sideways. He chuckled. “I’d seen you about town and wondered how I could get you.” He jerked his head toward his silent companion. “We talked of it. And then you decided to go to Moreland and ask for help to go out on the prairie.” All the men laughed. Then he said, “We could not have planned it better, ourselves. Of course old JT wanted you himself, but he had to sacrifice something.”

  She had trouble breathing. “JT wouldn’t have anything to do with this,” she said. “He’s a good man. Not like Lloyd Stephens.”

  The three men burst out laughing.

  Patton composed himself enough to say, “Not like Lloyd. JT’s the boss of everything. Nothing is done in that town without his say so.”

  The betrayal was hard to swallow. She thought JT was her friend. He betrayed her, but Andy, too. Andy had saved his life. Now she remembered all the times he’d tried to talk Andy into leaving Heath—get away with his paintings.

  Fury swept through her, overtaking the hurt. She should shoot Honner now. Unexpectantly. Shoot him without warning, when he had not moved toward her, she would take them by surprise. She might only have to shoot one. She could shoot through the dress.

  Patton was looking at her. “You’re not afraid?”

  He seemed surprised and puzzled.

  “Why should I be afraid?” she said, trying to sound calm. She leaned forward. “Have you ever seen Andy shoot? He is very good. Also, you better never let him get his hands on you. He’ll snap you like a piece of chalk.”

  “It is time to eat,” Elijah said. “Come to the fire.”

  Elijah indicated a pan of cornbread. “Help you selves.”

  Abbey breathed a small sigh of relief. The food was a reprieve, but a small one. She glanced up. Any other time she would enjoy the sky filled with bright stars, the coolness after the hot day, and the smell of the fire. Now, her mind whispered, Andy, where are you? I need you.

  Knowing that she’d been a fool didn’t help her much.

  Where was he? Did he think of her? He might also be staring at the stars. Was it true they were chasing him? He might be out there, suffering, dying, alone.

  She forced those thoughts away. There was nothing she could do about that, no way to help him. She wanted him to show up desperately, but she couldn’t count on it. She must do everything herself. I will not wait, she told herself. I shall shoot him at once. Before he is ready. Before he makes a move.

  Suddenly, one of the horses lifted his head, nostrils flaring. “Look at him,” she yelled. “There is somebody out there.”

  Startled, they looked. Patton, who had been crouching by the fire, stood and peered into the night. After a long minute, he shook his head. “Animal.”

  Glancing around uneasily, Honner spoke low-voiced to Patton, who glared at him and shook his head.

  Horner grabbed another piece of cornbread and filled his bowl with more beans, but every once in a while, he’d stop to listen.

  She’d used the horse’s movement to spook them, Horner, anyway. She rose and went to the fire. She wasn’t hungry. She was too scared and her insides were crawling too much, but she had to eat, or at least attempt to. She would need her strength. Besides, it was another small way of delaying. She took her food, sat back and ate a bite. “It tastes good, Elijah. You are a good cook. Can I have some coffee?”

  “Yes, um, Missus Abbey.” He filled a cup and handed it to her. She reached out with her left hand to take the cup. Their gazes met. No words passed between them, but Elijah nodded to her. He’d noticed. She sipped a little, and then placed the cup on a rock near the fire to heat it even more.

  Had anyone but Elijah noticed she took the cup with her left hand? She didn’t think so, but Patton was looking at her, puzzled.

  The horse’s head was up again, ears pricked. So were the others. All were looking off into the night; then one turned and looked across the fire at something.

  Horner swore and jumped up, peering into the dark.

  “Sit down,” Patton snapped. “You’re as jumpy as a girl.”

  “Something is here,” Horner mumbled. “I don’t like it.”

  “What was that?” Abbey asked suddenly.

  “What? What did you hear?” Horner almost yelled.

  “Something…I don’t know. There was a sound. I—”

  Patton’s voice cracked like a whip in the night air. “There was nothing. Nothing at all.”

  Elijah stooped over the pot, and then half-straightened, listening, as Horner looked around uneasily.

  Horner wet his lips, watching.

  The third man who said almost nothing and she didn’t even know his name, looked from Horner to Patton. “You are stupid,” he scoffed.“I’m not waiting.”

  One of the horses shied suddenly, and they all turned to look.

  When they turned, she jumped up. She bent and picked the cup up with her left hand. Although her heart was beating heavily inside her chest and her throat was dry, she was calmer than she thought she would be. She’d practiced in her mind what she had to do.

  She glanced at Elijah, nodding slightly. Her right hand slipped into her pocket, grasping the Derringer.

  Tahatan, at some signal from Elijah, was on his feet, watching Patton.

  Something stirred in the brush close to the camp. A heavy foot step then another, followed by absolute silence.

  “Who is there?” Horner yelled, his voice screeching.

  A slight breeze stirred the leaves. There was no other sound. Abbey shifted her attention to the third man, who was not listening. He was looking at her. He held up his index finger and curled it, indicating for her to come to him, and his words emphasized his point. “Come to me and beg a little, I may not hurt you.” He chuckled, a harsh sound at that moment. “Not much, anyway.”

  Patton threw his coffee to the ground. “We agreed, I’m first.”

  With fear crushing her chest, she glanced at Elijah, who was near the fire, his dark eyes alert. The boy had dropped back toward the shadows, nearer the horses. “Leave her alone,” Elijah said.

  Patton turned his gaze from her. “Do not be a fool, nigger. No one will know. No one will come here.”

  “Andy will know. He reads sign better any Indian. He find you.”

  Now on his feet, Honner along with the third man, was edging closer.

  Abbey had stopped breathing, her heart heavy. She gripped the Derringer in her right hand, now concealed by the folds of her dress. She had two bul
lets, two shots, and the barrel was short. She had to let them get close. She could not miss.

  As they edged closer, Elijah yelled, “Stop.” He lunged for a rifle near him.

  Horner turned and shot him. He staggered and fell.

  The third man, the one closer to her, lunged towards her, arms outstretched.

  As she lifted the Derringer, terror flashed in his eyes. His mouth gaped with a cry that never came. He was within four feet of her, his hands outstretched, when she pulled the trigger.

  The heavy .44 slug hit his stomach with a dull thud, like hitting a wet blanket with a stick.

  When he fell to his knees, she jumped back, out of his reach, and turned the gun on Horner and Patton.

  “Miss Abbey,” the boy shouted.

  He had her horse saddled.

  Raising the Derringer, she fired at the two men. As she pulled the trigger, both dived sideways to the ground, unharmed. She wasted not a second. Running to the horse, she grabbed the pommel and swung into the saddle.

  She jammed both heels into the horse’s flanks. The horse plunged into the night. Another shot blasted through the air, followed by a cry, and then several more shots.

  Everything inside Abbey churned. As the horse raced out of camp she sobbed: a combination of fear, relief, and guilt at what she’d caused. No doubt Elijah and maybe the boy had died back there trying to protect her. She wanted to turn back and try to help them, but another part of her mind told her she couldn’t do anything. She had fired both shots in the derringer and couldn’t reload it right then.

  As she burst out of the trees where they’d camped, she slowed her horse. She needed to think. If she ran her horse into the ground, she would never get away. But where was she going? She’d already discovered her chances of running into Andy in this vast wilderness were almost nonexistent.

  Heath was the best place, but it was at least four rough days. She turned her horse in that direction. Ahead was a small group of trees. She’d keep to the right of them.

  Later she would realize that her horse reacted to the man and horse tied in the trees, but with her thinking about her problems, she didn’t notice. Abbey’s first indication of something wrong was when a shadow jumped toward her, grabbing her horse’s reins by the nose.

  The horse shied violently, almost unseating her. A wild grab at the saddle horn was the only thing that saved her.

  Abbey was still trying to get control of the horse and herself when he grabbed her arm and jerked her out of the saddle.

  She hit the ground with numbing force, trying to force air into her lungs.

  Stunned, she lay on the ground trying to breathe as the shadow controlled her horse.

  Once he had the horse under control and tied, he strode toward her, reached down, and grabbed her by the hair.

  Excruciating pain, as if he was ripping her hair out at the scalp, exploded through her. She had no choice but to rise.

  Before, she’d been afraid of the men in camp and what they had in mind, and doubly afraid when she lit out on her own, but nothing compared to now. With the moon rising, she recognized Lloyd Stephens.

  A lump of fear formed deep in her chest.

  His razor sharp voice sliced through her. “You thought you were through with me.”

  His blazing eyes caused her to shrink away from him, trying to yank her arm out of his grip.

  He moved so fast she had no chance to defend herself. Something hit her in the face and stars exploded in her head.

  Time passed, but how much she didn’t know. Like a bad dream, she knew what was going on around her, but it was as if she was someone else looking at it happen. Her jaw hurt and she didn’t realize why she was again on the ground. How did she get there?

  She tried to move but couldn’t. And then, he reached down and jerked her up. It took her a moment to realize he had thrown her over her saddle. She thought she struggled but didn’t know for sure.

  As he lashed her to the saddle, she drifted in and out of consciousness. She mumbled, “Please God, let Andy find me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Although the sun was one hand high in the east, Andy was already drenched in sweat. For the last two months, despite his wounds, he’d pushed through the pain, driving himself. After he completed Assimilate, he cut more braces for the corral and two days later, he had one the size he wanted.

  With one of the packhorses pulling the empty stone boat, he led the others deep in the woods searching for the trees he needed. The bigger, longer, and straighter he could find them, the better. Fortunately, he had his choice.

  Almost without stop, he spent all day cutting the best trees down, then stripping them.

  The trees were too big for even him to lift onto the stone boat, so he used the packhorses to drag them on. Before dark, he hooked up all four of the horses to the stone boat and began the slow process of dragging the huge trees back to where he would build the house.

  Normally he would work until he couldn’t see, but now he built a large fire and used the light to strip the bark off the trees. He worked like this until he was too exhausted to go on, then he ate a little and passed out until daylight. Then the process started all over.

  Andy wanted a house people would marvel at—one that stood for something. Instead of the mud or mortar he used a hand planner, a large piece of wood with a handle and a razor sharp blade on the bottom. He shaved off the round portions of the tree on two opposite sides. When he was through, the shaved portions were level on both sides of the log. Then he drilled holes in the planed side and inserted wooden dowels he’d cut to fit the holes. The flattened logs fit snugly against one another.

  Weeks passed and the walls of the house stretched higher and higher until he had it twenty-two feet above the ground.

  He built with a frenzy he didn’t understand, but never sacrificed quality for speed or lost sight of the fact that he had enemies. As the house rose high above the ground, the height gave him the perfect opportunity to keep watch.

  When he took an occasional break, it was always to hunt for food, and at the same time, explore the area. He’d known it well from riding through, but he wanted to know every detail of the land.

  As he worked on the roof, he stopped for a breather and to check the area out. He spotted the horse and rider coming toward him. The rider was too far off for him to recognize, but the horse was obviously in bad shape. He’d come a long way and in a hurry. The horse was trying to run but was too tired.

  Climbing down his ladder, Andy grabbed his rifle. Darting behind a corner of the house, he called Sunka, who was crouched, growling.

  Kneeling at the corner of the house, he laid his hand on the dog’s head, talking to him in a calming voice.

  Moments later, the horse stumbled up the small rise leading to the plateau. Andy recognized Wicasa, the youngest of the boys Elijah let stay in the hayloft. He cocked his head. What was he doing here on a half-dead horse?

  As the horse stumbled and fell, dislodging Wicasa, Andy wrapped Sunka in one arm to keep him from attacking the boy.

  Wicasa rose from the ground, unhurt, and looked around. It took him a moment to spot Andy at the corner of the house. At the same time, he also spotted Sunka, and drew back.

  “What are you doing here?” Andy said, standing.

  “Elijah sent me. Missus Abbey leaves town looking for you. Bad mans with her.”

  Something turned over inside Andy. His heart beat faster and his fists, clenched at his sides, tightened until his fingers tingled. He pointed at Sunka and barked, “Stay.”

  When the dog sat back on his haunches, Andy stepped forward. “Who is with her?”

  “Tahatan, my brother, Elijah, and the mans called Patton. Elijah thinks more come.”

  Patton was JT’s man, and he had no reason not to trust him. Except he didn’t. He’d run into JT out on the prairie several weeks before he left Heath. He was with another man. It was unusual for JT to be out riding on the prairie, and his friend didn’t a
ct right.

  Andy had come up on them by accident, but it was obvious the two men hadn’t wanted him to see them. He didn’t know who the man was, and JT hadn’t introduced him, which was also not JT’s way.

  Now that he thought about it, he had seen the man quite a bit around the fort. He blew out a breath. “What did Elijah tell you to tell me?”

  “He bring them in this direction, but he slows them down. Wait on you.”

  Andy gathered some food and water as Wicasa saddled Big Red.

  The horse Wicasa rode had finally stood and Andy removed his saddle and put it on one of the horses he’d used for pulling the stone boat. He didn’t have far to go, but he had to get there fast.

  As bad as he hated to, he told Sunka to stay. The dog sat with his head cocked to one side as Andy heeled Big Red into a fast lope.

  He ran the horse for almost thirty minutes, and then without stopping, mounted the other horse. He didn’t know what he would find when he got there but he wanted Big Red fresh just in case.

  His biggest problem: he knew the direction they intended to take to get to him, the direction Elijah planned to take them, but he didn’t know if they’d veered away from it or not.

  All through the day, he pushed the extra horse. At times he mounted Big Red, but just enough to give the other horse a breather.

  He had to hurry, but he couldn’t rush in blindly. Not only might that get him killed, but Abbey too. Thinking about her out here turned his stomach.

  What in the world could have possessed her to do such a thing? It had been several months since he’d been to Heath. Not since her father told him Abbey didn’t want to see him again. He didn’t want to believe it, but didn’t know why her father would say it if it wasn’t true.

  With the heat beating down on them, he tried to stay to low ground, and west of a route that would take them on a straight line to Windsong. He didn’t believe anyone could travel in a straight line on the prairie, and that was the reason he was on the west side of the route they would take. Most people were right handed and when they traveled, they had a tendency to drift to their right, or east in this case.