White Moon Rising Page 21

  The journey took him almost three hours. At noon, he topped a low rise and found a small shack with a little smoke rising from the chimney, surrounded by plowed and cultivated fields.

  A man trudged to the shack. Cap figured he’d timed it perfectly: the noon meal. He guided the horse down the hill. When he dismounted at the front stoop, he dusted himself off and strolled to the front door. The door opened before he could reach it, and a man about Cap’s height but thinner, stepped out, leaving the front door ajar. In a thick German accent the man asked, “Can I be of help to you?”

  Cap took his hat off, swiped the sweat away, and then put it back on. “Are you Mr. Uwe Schmidt?”

  “Why, yes, and who might you be?”

  Even if Cap had told him, the man would have never heard him. Cap clobbered him upside the head with everything he had.

  Berta’s father dropped as if Cap had hit him with a poleaxe.

  Shaking his fist, Cap strolled to his horse, mounted and rode off.

  As he was leaving the yard, someone asked, “Uwe, who is it.” But Uwe wasn’t talking.

  The bouncing of the horse brought Abbey to full consciousness. How long she was out, she didn’t know. At first, she wasn’t even sure she had been out. It was as if she was on the outside watching everything happen to her. Like watching a play she was acting in.

  Her head, hanging down, spun like a top. The combination of her dizziness and the stench of the horse’s sweat caused her to vomit.

  She tried to move but couldn’t. He’d tied her across the saddle. Because she had no way of gauging time, the movement seemed endless. They finally pulled to a stop and the horse relieved itself. With her head hanging low on the side of the horse, she got the full effect of the smell, and the splatter hit her in the face.

  Again she threw up and continued heaving even after she’d emptied her stomach.

  Crunching steps alerted her to Lloyd’s presence. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head up. Part of the hair ripped out and she yelled with pain.

  Bending close, he hissed, “Shut your mouth. You have to puke, you swallow it. I won’t tell you again.”

  He slammed her face into the side of the horse, and cursed when the horse shied.

  Her jaw had hurt before this, but now her face and scalp did. Hot liquid flowed out of her nose and bubbled when she tried to breathe through it.

  The horse fidgeted, and every movement caused her pain. She could see enough to realize the horse she was on wasn’t hers. She had to do something, but what? If he would just give her a chance to get her hands on him once, just once, she’d scratch his eyes out.

  Time dragged by, how long, she didn’t know. Nor did she know why they’d stopped where they were. Her vision was limited to left and right of one side of the horse. She could raise her head some, but not much. Besides, pain shot through it every time she did.

  She struggled to break the bonds holding her, or to reach the ones on her hands with her teeth, but she couldn’t do it. She’d even tried to get the horse to run, but in her position, she could do that, either.

  When it seemed they would never move or he wouldn’t come back, the crunching boots told of his approach. He chuckled, a low mean sound. “I never thought I’d get this lucky. Got you right where I want you and now that stupid Johansson is following me. I’ll take care of him, and then you and me are going to have some fun.”

  He chuckled again. “Well, at least I’m going to have some fun.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks and she sobbed. His hand exploded on the side of her head, rocking it sideways. Pain and a bright light splintered through her head, and she bit her tongue, tasting blood in her mouth.

  “You might as well get used to it because this is just the beginning—the easy part. I have a leather strop I plan to use on you before, during, and after I take you. In fact, I plan on using it until you beg me to do anything I want to you.”

  As the horse moved, shudders swept through Abbey. She choked back the sobs bubbling in her chest. These were no idle threats to scare her. He intended to beat her and rape her. When he was through with her, he would have no choice but to kill her. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her only hope—and she realized it was slim—was Andy was following. God, she needed him.

  Her pain intensified as the horse continued to move, bouncing her one way and then the other. At one point, the horse scraped close to some low branches and her hair caught in them, ripping out more of her hair.

  Finally, the horses stopped. Lloyd’s footsteps rustled the leaves as he neared, but on the opposite side of the horse as her head. Instead of stopping, they continued behind her and she couldn’t see him. For the hundredth time, she tried to get out of her bonds, but to no avail. It seemed the more she tried, the tighter they became and her hands had long since lost the feeling in them. But she couldn’t stop trying.

  Please God, just let me have one chance to get my hands on him.

  Awhile later, the footsteps approached but this time stopped. Her heart raced as he stood behind her. She had no idea what he was doing or thinking and she couldn’t see him. Then the bonds on her feet separated.

  He strode around to the front of the horse. “I’m going to let you down. You try to run or do anything other than what I tell you, I’ll tie you to a tree and gag you.”

  With one swipe, he cut the bonds tying her hands to the horse. He grabbed her face and pushed her backwards. Her feet hit the ground and then collapsed. She fell and landed on her back.

  “Get up,” he snarled.

  It was a struggle to make her legs work. As he’d done before, he reached down and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her up. Pain slashed through her and she screamed, but the sound enraged him and he shook her by the hair until she stopped.

  She collapsed to her knees, and he again yanked her up.

  On her feet, he pulled her close. Even with her nose clogged with dried blood, she could smell the sweat, dirt, and whiskey on him. Tremors surged through her. She would die before she let him do to her what he planned.

  Holding her with one hand, he grabbed her face with the other and wrenched it towards him. She realized he was trying to kiss her and jerked her face away. He became livid with rage, grabbed her again, and wrenched her head around. This time when his lips came close to hers, she caught them in her teeth and bit down as hard as she could.

  He might kill her for this, but a quick death was a lot better than being with him. She tasted blood but this time not hers.

  His scream and lip tore apart in her mouth. His pain exalted her. In a frenzy to hurt him, she gnawed harder, trying to grind her teeth. He jerked away from her, tearing his lip even more. Blood gushed out of his mouth, running down his chin.

  She only had a moment of satisfaction. Then he hit her full in the face and everything turned dark.

  With fists clenched tight at his sides and pain searing through him, Lloyd Stephens glared at her. He’d hit her too hard and knocked her out. He swiped the blood off his face with his shirtsleeve. Dammit, that hurt. She’d pay for that. He just wished he had time right then.

  Swiping the blood off his mouth, he reached into his pocket, found his handkerchief, and put it in his mouth, hoping to stop the flow of blood. His bottom lip where she’d bit him was already swollen. He eased his tongue over the ragged gap her teeth had made. Part of his lip was hanging down.

  Stephens reached down, grasped one of her ankles, and looked around for the nearest tree. As he dragged her to it, her dress pulled up around her waist, exposing her underwear. When he reached the tree, he stood with blood dripping down his chin, his heart beating fast, staring. She had long supple legs, strong but feminine.

  He’d always thought she’d had a great body under all those clothes, but he’d imagined nothing like this. He’d reached for his belt, and then it dawned on him where he was. He reached up and felt of his lip. As pain throbbed through him, he kicked her leg. He would wait until she was conscious. He wanted her t
o be aware of what he was doing to her. Feel the pain and humiliation.

  Besides, he had to take care of Johansson first. He had plenty of time to do with her what he wanted.

  Hurrying to his saddlebags, he retrieved some rawhide rope. He pulled her arms around the tree and tied them tight. When he had that done, he took the bloody handkerchief out of his mouth, forced hers open, and stuffed it all the way in.

  With his rifle, he eased along his back trail. He’d spotted a bush-covered low knoll overlooking the trail he’d taken. With the bright moonlight, it was the perfect place to set up for an ambush. He could see the trail for at least a hundred and fifty yards, but he would be deep in the shadows. No way could Johansson see him.

  Once he realized someone followed him, and knew who it had to be, he’d slowed down. He wanted Johansson to catch up, but at a place and time of his choosing.

  Staying away from the trail so he wouldn’t leave his footprints, he maneuvered through the brush until he reached the ambush place he’d chosen. He knelt and looked over it for a time. No one was in sight, but he didn’t expect him to be this soon. He’d need to be patient.

  He cocked his rifle, putting a bullet in the chamber, but eased the hammer down so all he would have to do was ear it back. With that done, he lay down and situated himself in the best place to see but also fire the rifle.

  As he lay waiting, he didn’t have to worry about falling asleep. The pain in his mouth was too intense, and besides, the mosquitoes were buzzing around him, biting.

  Time passed, and the longer it did, the more impatient he became. What had happened to the great Indian? Surely he couldn’t have lost the trail he’d left. Heck a blind man could have followed it. And what was taking so long?

  Still he waited as another hour passed. He shook his head. Maybe he didn’t want to catch up. Maybe he’d spotted him waiting somehow.

  Rising, Lloyd navigated his way back where he’d left Abbey tied.

  She was conscious, and he’d expected to see fear, but it surprised him when her eyes blazed hate. He’d have to watch her. This one was not going to submit to him. She’d fight every step of the way.

  With his lip swollen three times its normal size and pulsing with pain, he stared down at her. He reached and yanked the gag out of her mouth.

  Her breath escaped with a rush as she sucked in air.

  Stephens knelt beside her. His words, through the messed-up lip, sounded garbled, slurred. “Bitch, you’ll pay for what you did to me.”

  He would have said more but it hurt to talk. Instead, he jerked his knife out and slashed the bonds holding her to the tree. He stepped back and motioned for her to get up. When she didn’t right away, he kicked her and jerked his hand up.

  When she was on her feet, he motioned to the horse. He followed her, but he had a problem. He didn’t trust her to ride astride—she’d try to run, he had no doubt. The only way would be to put her across the horse again, but she wasn’t about to do that on her own. Also, he wasn’t about to give her another chance to get close to him—not close like she wanted. He sneered, a movement that fired pain through his face. He grabbed his pistol and with a sweeping blow, crashed it into the back of her head.

  The gun thudded when it made contact, and without a sound, she dropped like a sack of grain.

  Struggling, he picked her up, and with all his strength tossed her over the saddle as he had before. He was bathed in sweat by the time he had her hands and feet tied. As best he could with his messed-up mouth, he guzzled some hot, stagnant water from his canteen, and then mounted his own horse.

  As the hours passed, he continued to guide the horse around obstacles, sometimes going almost in a circle. The horse’s pace continued to slow, but now, the large point jutting up was near. As daylight peeked over the trees in the east, he guided the horse to the west and came upon a small valley with a stream running through it.

  When he pulled the horse up to a copse of trees, he nodded emphatically. He’d waited too long for what he wanted.

  Tying both horses to some brush, he ambled around the horse Abbey was on, grabbed her hair, and lifted her head. She was conscious. He strolled around to her feet, cut the rope, and then repeated the process with her hands. As he had before, he shoved her backwards off the horse.

  She landed on her butt.

  As if on a Sunday stroll, he sauntered to his horse but stopped at his saddlebags. He opened them and extracted a rolled piece of leather. When he unrolled the strop, it was three feet long and almost an inch thick.

  He popped it in the air and it cracked like a whip.

  Elation surged through him as he stared down at her. For the first time terror flashed in her eyes, and well it should. She scooted backward on the ground as he approached her. He would have smiled then but his mouth hurt too much.

  They’d moved several feet before he tired of that and leaped forward, grabbing the top of her blouse. The tearing sound was loud when he ripped it off, leaving only her chemise covering her breasts.

  With tears streaming down her cheeks, she attempted to back up and cover herself at the same time.

  Now he was having some fun. Again he reached out, but this time he ripped the chemise, exposing her breasts. As she covered with both arms, he slapped her.

  Skin on skin rang in the early morning air. The force of the blow did exactly what he’d planned. She fell back, dazed.

  His mouth almost watered as he ogled her full, creamy white breasts with large, ridged pink nipples.

  Sobbing, she rose half way up and wrapped her arms around herself.

  He dropped the strop and stepped closer, and her sobs increased.

  A sound, a cross between a chuckle and whistling, emitted from his ruined mouth. He kicked her foot as his fingers fumbled with his gun belt. It finally dropped at his feet.

  All he could think of was the pleasure he was going to have with her. Even with the sore mouth, he grinned. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”

  She tried to move away as he undid his pants.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Andy, without the strength to take another step, leaned against Big Red. The stench of sweat, his and the horse’s, overpowered him. He blinked. The pink glow of dawn winked at him over the treetops. As bad off as he was, an inner voice urged him to go on—one foot ahead of the other, then the other. His brother’s words, “A warrior does everything possible for his people,” danced around in his brain.

  Staggering, he almost fell but caught the saddle horn. If he fell, he didn’t think he’d have strength enough to get up. If he didn’t continue, he might as well drop where he was.

  Abbey was the only people he had. Even if they had no future, he would still go after her. He loved her and wouldn’t let anything happen to her if he could help it.

  He straightened, removed his canteen, and gulped down several swallows of warm stagnant water. Then he wet his kerchief and bathed his face and neck. Before he put the canteen up, he poured several handfuls into his palm and let Big Red drink. The horse drank and from his look wanted more. Andy sighed and checked, but he didn’t have much water left.

  As fast as he could go, he stepped out after replacing the canteen. A slight breeze kicked up, bringing with it the scented aroma of red cedars that surrounded him.

  His movements were excruciatingly slow, and he tried to hurry, but couldn’t get his legs to work with any speed. Finally, he crawled on Big Red, who was about as done in as he was. He’d have to be careful, or he’d ride the big horse to death. He didn’t know how far he had to go, but he would need the horse. Just a few minutes to rest, get his wind back, he told himself.

  Andy’s eyes snapped open. He’d dozed off, but for how long? He sighed. He’d had his rest. With a groan, he slid off the horse and leaned against the saddle.

  The never-ending plodding continued with Big Red walking beside him. His moccasins were wearing out on the bottom, exposing the soles of his feet to the dirt, limbs, and sharp rocks. Once, h
e stopped to look back where he’d come from, and he could see blood in his prints.

  Big Red nudged him and he didn’t know why. Then the horse nudged him again, and through a fog in his brain, he realized he wasn’t moving, just standing still. He must have fallen asleep standing where he was. He reached to pet the horse but stopped. Big Red’s ears were pointing straight up, alerted to something.

  Maybe it was potential danger, but from somewhere deep inside of Andy, energy he didn’t know existed, bubbled to the surface. He petted Big Red’s neck, but the horse remained on alert. Whatever it was, Andy couldn’t hear, see, or smell it.

  He led the horse to the edge of the red cedar thicket. The land opened up to reveal a small valley fifty yards away. It also had a stream running through it. If the man with Abbey continued the way he was going, they had to come this way. If they did, then he might be ahead of them.

  He swallowed a large lump that seemed to stick in his throat. Did he make the right decision to try to get ahead? Would that cost Abbey her life? He shook his head. No, he couldn’t think of the alternative, wouldn’t let himself think of it.

  Mounting, he led the horse down the hill to the stream. They crossed over and into a copse of woods with grass and water. As he dropped down, a small gust of wind blew in his face. At the same time, Big Red’s ears perked up. The huge pine-covered pinnacle he’d pointed at lay ahead and slightly to the east the way the stream meandered.

  Moments passed as Andy’s heart thrashed around in his chest. The horse had directed his attention to the east side of the pinnacle. It was light enough for Andy to see, and there was nothing, so the horse must either smell or hear what was bothering him.

  Andy laid Big Red’s reins on the ground and drew his rifle out of the scabbard. The cuts on the bottom of his feet cried out with relief when he stepped into the cool water. He closed his eyes and wished he could just lay his entire body in it.