Wyoming Renegade

“Uh, sure. You need anything?”

“Nope.” He was feeling the soft center of the hoof. “I’ll be along in a couple of minutes.”

She went to the other side of the wagon, away from the horses, and tossed the wood down with a small crash.

“You okay?” Eddie called.

“Yes.”

She found a bare spot, stacked the wood, and when it failed to light after three tries, she did what anyone would do. She poured on a pint of coal oil.

Alex struck a match, tossed it and whoosh! The sky lit up like a second sunset. The flames towered above her like a fiery giant. The wood snapped and cracked and sparks flew upward, higher and higher, chased by flames that could be seen for miles, she supposed.

Heart racing, Alex circled the fire, back and forth, like a drover circling a herd, trying to make certain the flames didn’t escape her own special corral.

“Alex, what the devil was that?” Eddie hollered.

“Just getting the fire going. Don’t worry.” Lord, it was amazing how calm she could sound when she was terrified. Then, as suddenly as it had flared, it receded. Fast as you could snap your fingers, the flames sank down like someone had turned off a gas jet.

Thank goodness, she thought with a chest-heaving sigh. That was close. She pulled her hair forward, half expecting to see the ends singed. All safe.

Well, she knew how to start a fire now, that was for sure. Better yet, she did it herself without asking for help.

The rich scent of burning wood filled the night air. The flames seemed friendly now, warm and welcoming. She held her hands out to the fire, feeling the heat on her palms and her face. “Eddie, aren’t we ever going to have dinner?”

“Be right there,” he called over his shoulder.

Hunger was a great motivator, so she figured she’d better help out if she was going to expedite things. Muscles straining, she dragged the food locker across the wagon bed and out onto the tailgate, the chains stretched tight as a clothesline.

The crate was light pine and rough enough to make splinters. She pried the lid off. Her stomach growled in anticipation. Salted ham sounded good. Forget the beans, they took too long. Ah, yes, canned tomatoes should work, oh, and canned peaches for dessert. Perfect.

About that time Eddie joined her.

“What do you think?” She felt rather pleased with herself since this was a first for her.

Eddie appraised the campsite, the fire, the food display with the aplomb of a general reviewing the troops. “Fire going, food out…nice job.” He grinned and gave her shoulder an affectionate hug. “Thanks.”

Eddie rolled up his sleeves and went to work carving the ham, putting the slices in the skillet.

She watched him work for a minute, grateful that Eddie and Uncle John went camping every summer in Yosemite. “Is that going to take awhile?”

He arched one red brow. “Ten minutes or so to get it ready and another ten or so to cook. Why? Hungry?”

“I’m starved, but I was wondering if you’d mind if I washed up a bit before dinner?”

“Sure. Go ahead. I’ll do the same thing after we eat.” He pushed his hair back with the curve of his elbow, his fingers sticky with tomato juice.

It only took a minute to fetch her towel and soap from the trunk. She managed the embankment in a little more ladylike fashion this time. The fact that it was getting darker didn’t help much. The first stars of the night, the brightest ones, could already be seen in the sky. A full moon hung low over the horizon.

Hurrying up the stream, she found the pool she’d seen earlier. There was a chill in the night air and she decided not to undress completely. No, a nice sponge bath would do fine.

It was like being in her own private world. The sound of the water was melodic, soothing, relaxing. The rustle of the leaves in the breeze added to the night song.

Even in the chill, she felt muscles relax, felt the tension ease in her shoulders and back. Eyes open again, she glanced around. Yes, this was a lovely spot.

Seated on the rock, she hurried to wash, the scent of frying ham wafting down to her. There was nothing like a little washing and a good meal to set the world right.

Eager to get to that meal, she eyed the stream again. It was going to be cold. She summoned an inner grit and splashed handfuls of water against her face.

Alex groaned and shuddered as her skin turned icy. It was as refreshing as lemonade in July and just as welcome.

She made quick work of rinsing her arms and legs. Water clung to her face and eyelashes and she swiped at them with the backs of her hand.

Still blinking against the water, she grabbed up her towel and dried her skin, rubbing to get the blood moving.

She slipped on her skirt and reached for her blouse. If she was lucky, Eddie would have dinner ready by the time she got back to the camp fire. Blouse done up except for the top two buttons, she gathered her towel and soap and turned.

Two men were blocking her path.

Fear shot through her. Instinctively she stepped back, clutching the towel to her chest like armor.

Both men were cast in shadow, and she wondered how they could have gotten so close to her without her hearing them. Probably her distraction and the sound of the stream.

How long had they been standing there? Had they been watching her bathe?

Calm. Stay calm. This is the West and there could be a rational explanation for this. Stay calm.

The voice of reason preached calm, the voice of caution screamed to run for her life. Still they hadn’t made a move in her direction, hadn’t said anything threatening, so perhaps she was overreacting.

It took a couple of tries to get her voice to work. “Good evening,” she finally said with all the bravado she could muster, which wasn’t a whole heck of a lot. The night suddenly seemed much colder and much darker. She didn’t move. Neither did they. “We’re about to have dinner,” she continued, though she wasn’t sure they could hear her over the pounding of her heart. “Would you care to join us?”

For what seemed like an eternity, they stood there staring at her in a way that made her feel naked, even though she was dressed. Self-protection was overtaking all other emotions. Her fingers curled into tight fists, although she knew, deep down, she was helpless against two men.

She took another step back, her heel sinking into the soft earth at the edge of the stream, throwing her off balance, and she reached out to steady herself. One of the men said, in a voice cold and ominous, “You and the kid out here all alone?”

The man on the left spoke, his voice snake-oil smooth and equally slimy. From what she could make out, he was dressed all in dark colors—blue pants, brown shirt. A gun was tied to his left leg; that she could see with stark clarity. His hat was black and settled low so she couldn’t see his face. He was tall and thinner than his companion.

He took a menacing stride in her direction. “I asked you a question, lady.” His voice sent a shiver up her spine. “Is it just you and the kid out here?”

In a heartbeat she realized two things—first, they’d seen Eddie, and second, she and Eddie were going to die.

Chapter Six

Moonlight cast the glade in ghostly white and gray. Her first thought was to escape, to run and not look back. The voice of self-protection screamed louder than a banshee. But she couldn’t. Eddie was there, somewhere, in the camp. She couldn’t leave him, abandon him to these men.

Panic was like a living thing inside her, eating her up. Her whole body shook with a force that threatened to knock her over.

Think, Alex. Think fast.

Stall them. She had to stall them until she could find a way out of this for her and Eddie.

“If it’s money you want…”

“Money,” the shorter one repeated in a sinister tone that said he had all the cards. “Sure we’ll take your money, honey, and anything else we want, if ya know what I mean.”

God help her, she knew exactly what he meant.

Think, Alex, think.

She tried to think. She couldn’t. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Her heart threatened to explode in her chest. Dear God, this couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. It was.

Think.

Eddie. They had asked if it was just her and Eddie. They didn’t know how many they were.

She had to clench her jaw to keep her chattering teeth from giving her away. Her fingers dug into the coarse cotton of the towel she still clutched. Somewhere in one of the trees, a night owl hooted softly.

“If you don’t want dinner, then you are not welcome here. The men—” she emphasized the word “—will be back any minute. I suggest you be gone by that time.” She waited, holding her breath.

The tall one stood there, arms at his side, his hand dangerously close to his gun. “And just where have these men—” his voice dripped with skepticism “-gone?”

“Hunting…for dinner,” she added, trying to find some plausible explanation. “So, unless you want trouble, I suggest you leave.”

For a full five seconds they didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, and then they laughed. Both of them laughed, a cruel, hard sound that sent dread snaking up her spine.

“Oh! Oh!” the second man whined in a high, mocking voice. “I’m shakin’ in my boots.”

They both laughed again.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” the tall one said, “but the kid up there said as how it was just the two of you right before he invited us to share a little grub.” He straightened. “Course, that was our intention anyways.”

There was more laughter. “Alls a man needs to survive out here is a good horse, food and—” he took another step in Alex’s direction “—a woman. Come on, honey, what say you and me…”

Terror overcame reason. “Go to hell!”

He grabbed her, his fingers digging into the flesh of her upper arm through her blouse. Alex lashed out with everything she had, fists, feet, and finally she raked his face with her nails. She dug in hard, feeling the wetness of his blood on her fingertips.

“Damn you, bitch!” He released her, pushing her away as he did. Alex staggered back, her foot sinking ankle deep in the muddy streambed. Grabbing nothing but air, she fell backward into the water.

Her skirt soaked up water like a sponge, and in no time it seemed to be anchor heavy.

Someone laughed, she wasn’t certain if it was one man or both. Muscles in her back and legs strained against the weight of the skirt. Her wet hair was plastered to her face. She wiped it back. Water gurgled and swirled around her.

Like an animal, she managed to get to all fours, the rocks of the stream sharp against her tender palms. She pushed hard, determined to get up, to turn and face her attacker.

She never saw the blow coming, only felt something on her back an instant before she slammed face first into the water again.

Breathing was impossible. Icy water rushed into her nose and mouth. There was no sound. She tried to rise. Something or someone held her down.

Fingers digging into the streambed, she strained up, twisting, frantic for air. She couldn’t move.

Her lungs ached in her chest. Blood pounded in her ears. Cold. She was mind-numbingly cold. It was so dark. Random thoughts of her father and brother and mother flashed like fireflies in her mind and were gone. She knew she was going to die and there was nothing she could do about it.

Air slipped from her lungs and darkness threatened.

Suddenly she was hauled up. Rough hands held her by the shoulders. She was slammed back against a man’s chest. The skin around her eyes pulled tight as she was held by the hair.

Air rushed into her lungs. Blessed air. Nothing else mattered. Choking, coughing up water, she was too weak to do more than sag against her captor.

Water poured off her in rivulets. Her skin was colder than January snow.

The man’s face pressed against hers; cheek to cheek, he held her. His stubbled face scraped her skin, his putrid breath smelled of whiskey and tobacco.

“Not so feisty now, are you, lady?” he sneered, his lips moving against the side of her face. She shivered, this time not from the cold. Her stomach heaved and bitter bile rose in her throat.

With more strength than she ever thought she possessed, she slammed her elbow hard into his ribs. It didn’t hurt him, but it shocked him enough that he released her.

Legs too cold and stiff, she couldn’t run, but she did manage to face her enemy. She might die here tonight, but she wouldn’t surrender.

He grabbed her wrist and twisted. Pain shot up her arm. “Why you—”

“Cut it out, Lyle,” the tall man commanded from his place on the bank.

Moonlight cut across her attacker’s scarred face. He hesitated. “The hell I will. The damn bitch clawed me.” He twisted her arm harder. She had to bend to keep her arm from breaking.

The man on the bank said, “I thought you liked it rough.” Dimly she saw him lift up in the stirrups. “You’ve had your fun, now bring her. I’m hungry. We’ll see who goes first with her after I get some grub in my gut. Besides, Fred’ll want in on this.”

Her attacker, the one called Lyle, stared at her with ferretlike eyes and she thought he wouldn’t obey his comrade, then he surprised her and said, “Come on, you.”

The man half dragged her from the stream. The water-drenched skirt pulled her down. The muscles in her legs cramped and she fell. Mud oozed up between her fingers, smeared her face and clothes.

“Get the hell up.” He yanked her by the hair. Her neck snapped back. Tears pooled in her eyes and slid down her face, blending with the water that cascaded from her matted hair.

A night wind skimmed the tops of the cottonwoods. The leaves fluttered and rattled together. The gurgling of the stream faded as she crawled up the embankment. Her teeth chattered. She shook so hard, she thought she’d shake apart from the force of it. All she knew was that she was alive. For a little while, another minute, she was alive.

Think. Find a way out, a way to survive.

Twenty feet away, she could see the fire she’d started a short while ago. Bright red flames tinged with blue danced and played among the wood she’d stacked there. She remembered the flames shooting into the night sky and wondered if that was how these scum had found them.

She staggered into the camp, her dress dragging behind her like a royal train. Eddie was seated by the fire, his back to her. They both were alive—but for how long?

Across from Eddie was a third man. He had thinning blond hair and a scraggly beard of the same dingy color. His plaid shirt was pulled button-straining tight over his fat belly. A rifle was balanced on his knees, his hand caressing the metal like a lover touches his mate. He didn’t speak, just watched her in a way that made her skin crawl.

“Look see what we found, Fred.”

The one by the fire nodded. Eddie glanced around and his gaze found hers. His face was pale, all the brightness gone from his eyes. His red hair fell across his forehead, and it took a moment in the dim light for her to see the ugly gash above his left eye. Blood trickled down his face and pooled at his earlobe before dripping onto his blue shirt collar.

“You bastards!” she cried, and tried to twist free. “Eddie!” She twisted again, the man’s fingers digging into her arm, tearing the tender flesh. ’

The one called Fred watched for a moment, then offered a yellow-toothed smile that made her stomach roll over again. “Well, now, looks like you boys done found us a real hellcat.” His grin got bigger. “Just bring her right on over here to me. Ol’ Fred knows how to treat a woman.” He rubbed his crotch for emphasis.

Every muscle in her body drew in, wire tight. Terror, as pure and raw as anything she’d ever known, shot out along all the nerves in her body.

“Let me go!” she commanded, and punctuated her demand by applying her booted foot to her captor’s leg with all the strength she had.

“Ouch!” he yelped, and loosened his grip enough that she got free. She heard the distinctive sound of a rifle being cocked. She didn’t care. She was going to die anyway, and in the distant recesses of her mind she thought she preferred being shot to the other options.

Her dress tangled around her legs, and she fell. She crawled the last couple of feet to Eddie’s side.

The men laughed. “Ain’t that a sight?”

“Always did like a woman to come crawlin’.”

They laughed again.

Alex ignored them. “Are you all right?” She touched his wound and he winced in response. Blood stained the ends of her fingers. “Oh, Eddie, I’m so sorry.” She tore off a piece of her wet petticoat and dabbed at his wound.

He managed the barest of smiles, a grimace really, but his eyes never left their attackers. “Are you all right? Did they—”

“No.” She covered his hand with hers.

Behind them, the fire snapped and popped, red flames against a black velvet sky.

Lyle tossed another stick into the flames, sending a cascade of brightly colored sparks fluttering into the night. The tall one lounged against the wagon wheel, shoveling in the food that Eddie had cooked.

The man at the camp fire spoke up. “Well now, aren’t you two a pair.” He served up a plate of food for himself. They’d obviously opened several of the cans she’d brought.

“She yours?” Fred gestured with his fork. He shoveled more ham into an already full mouth. He sloshed in a drink of whiskey from a bottle he produced from his pocket. The dark brown liquid dribbled out of the corners of his mouth and down his chin, staining an already stained beard. “Well, boy, I asked if she was yours.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Eddie and Alex spoke in unison. The man paused then laughed, a hard nasal sound. “Well, sonny, which is it?”

Eddie stiffened, pulling Alex into the curve of his arm. “She’s mine, as you put it.”

The man regarded them thoughtfully. “Wife?”

“Yes.”

“Ha!” the man by the wheel sneered.

“She’s my wife.” Eddie’s tone was adamant. He stood, pulling Alex up with him. She didn’t know what was happening but she went along.

“How come she doesn’t seem to think so?” the tall man asked with a sneer.

“She’s confused. Being held at gunpoint will do that to a person.” Now it was Eddie’s turn to sneer. He inched back, nudging Alex with him.

The man at the camp fire stopped eating, his hand sliding around the trigger of the rifle still balanced on his lap. “Where you goin’, boy?” His tone was menacing.

“You’re welcome to the food and to whatever is in the wagon.” Eddie took a brazen step back, this time shoving Alex fully behind him as he did.

The man who was eating scraped the last of the food from the metal plate and tossed it down with a clink. He dragged his sleeve along his mouth, leaving more stains on the cloth.

“We were gonna do that anyway… boy.” He hefted his rifle in the curve of one arm. “Frank.” The man nearest the wheel straightened. “Take a look-see in the wagon, seein’ as how this young fella’s been so kind as to offer it.”

Frank followed orders and disappeared around the side of the wagon. Alex saw the wagon sway slightly as the man climbed inside.

“The woman, Fred?” Lyle asked eagerly, licking his lips as he did. “What about the woman? I mean, we ain’t been with no white women in a month o’ Sundays and I’m getting tired of them redskin bitches.”

Alex felt her skin crawl. She wanted to scream. She wanted this all to be some terrible nightmare.

“Hey,” a voice called from the back of the wagon. “Ain’t nothing in here but clothes and food and some kinda paints….”

Eddie took another step back, pulling Alex along with him. Firelight flashed on the barrel of gun being pointed in their direction. The hole in the barrel suddenly seemed enormous. “Don’t be leavin’ us, boy. Why, the party’s just about to get going.”

“Hot damn!” Alex’s attacker, the one called Lyle, surged to his feet and strode for her. “Me first.” He licked his lips and wiped them on his sleeve again. Alex clung to Eddie, her hand gripping his arm for support, for strength.

“No,” she barely whispered. Inside she was screaming, but outside she was paralyzed.

With clear intent, the man advanced on them. Eddie stepped between Alex and the man. The man hesitated for about two seconds. “Git outta my way, boy.” He took another step. “I’ll kill you where you stand.” He produced a gun from the waistband of his pants.

“Eddie, don’t,” Alex whispered.

“Yeah, Eddie,” the gun-wheeling man sneered. “Don’t.”

“Stay away from her,” Eddie pronounced, refusing to back down. He kept inching away, pulling Alex with him. “We told you to take whatever you wanted, just leave us alone.”

“Trouble is, boy,” the man near the fire said, “you have what we want.”

“Hey,” Frank called from the wagon again. “Found some money. Looks like…maybe…nearly a thousand.”

Both men halted, their attention drawn to their companion and his announcement.

Eddie kept moving back. In a low voice he whispered, “As soon as you’re in the shadows, run.” He kept inching while the men gathered around to count their loot. The shadows were close, a couple more yards. A few more steps and—

“Dammit, boy,” was the only thing Alex heard, then a shot.

Eddie yelled in pain. He fell to his knees, his eyes wide with disbelief. As though in slow motion, he lifted his hand away from his side. Blood, bright red, pooled in his palm and dripped between his fingers onto the ground.

“Eddie!” Her voice sliced through the night like a razor’s edge. “Eddie!”

Eddie didn’t answer, just looked at her, then his eyes fluttered closed and he fell the rest of the way to the ground.

Chapter Seven

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