Bittner, Rosanne (7 page)

"You
will go no farther,
señor,
"Juan told him. "Speak your
name."

"I
am called Hawk," John Hawkins answered, deciding to use Ken's nickname for
him. It sounded like something an Indian would call himself, and he sure was
not about to tell them his real name.

He
was hoping he'd guessed right—that none of these men knew him by sight. If he
was going to get the better of this bunch, why not ride right into their nest
and take them from the inside?

He
glanced at the woman tied to a wagon wheel. There she was, red hair and all,
Tess Carey. God only knew what she'd been through. Now all he had to do was
figure out how in hell to get her out of here.

Tess
watched the newcomer, convinced by his appearance that he was as wicked and
cruel as the others.

"What
is it you want?" Chino asked. "I have little patience, and I do not
like new faces."

John
looked around the camp, studied the wagons, every man there, his gaze finally
falling on Tess. She shivered and looked away.

"I
was only curious," John answered Chino. "I have left the Comanche
reservation in Oklahoma. I am only part Comanche," he lied. He figured he
could pass for Comanche, if that was what he needed to be for the moment.
"I do not belong there where men live and farm like women. I heard many
stories about how a man can come down here and make money the easy way. Now
that I am forced to survive by white man's money, I am looking for work. Do you
know where I can find work?"

Chino
grinned, and he began strutting haughtily around John's horse. "There is
the kind of work where a man must truly work, if you know what I mean." He
patted the horse's rump, came back around to face the man who called himself
Hawk, gauging his size, trying to read his eyes. "And there is easy work.
We do easy work, work that brings great pleasure and excitement, work that
keeps us free. The only thing you need for this work is to be good with a
gun." He eyed John's many weapons. "You look like a man who is good
with guns."

He
boldly reached out and yanked John's rifle from its boot. He looked it over
approvingly, while John waited quietly, hoping Chino would not suspect
anything. He had hidden all supplies that might link him to the Army or the
Rangers, and he was dressed like any other half-breed drifter might be. One
benefit to looking so Indian was that it often helped him in his work. He could
easily pass himself off as a common, poor Indian—or as a ruthless renegade—
whatever the job called for.

"This
is a fine rifle, Hawk," Chino said. The others continued to watch and hold
guns on John. "
Are
you good with a gun?" He came back around
to look up at him.

John
studied the apparent leader of this sorry group. It was obvious what had
happened to the redheaded woman. Part of her blanket had fallen away, revealing
a naked breast. Because her hands were tied, she could not pull the blanket
back over herself. He struggled with his anger, telling himself to be patient.
"I hunted game for others on the reservation," he answered. "I
was known for my skill with rifle and handgun. And I did my share of raiding
and killing before I was confined to the reservation."

Chino
nodded. "And where did a poor Indian from the reservation get such a fine
weapon?" He walked closer, patting the horse's rump again. "And such
a fine golden horse?"

"I
stole them," John answered. "From a white man who is dead now,
somewhere on a lonely road in Texas."

Chino
laughed, and the others joined in. "This I like to hear," Chino said,
coming around to face John again. "The trouble is, my friend, we, too,
steal horses, and you have a very fine horse there. I would not mind owning him
for myself. Nor would I mind owning this fine rifle of yours."

Tess
watched the one called Hawk straighten, the look in his dark eyes as evil and
threatening as any she'd seen in Chino's eyes. "It would be better for you
if you didn't try to take what is mine. I did not come here for trouble or to
lose my horse and rifle. I came here to find work. If your work involves
stealing horses and..." He looked over at Tess again. "Women,"
he continued, "that is fine with me. I've heard about renegades in these
parts who sell such things for great profit. I have been watching you from a
distance, saw the woman. I would like to be a part of this easy work, as you
call it. If you want a man good with a gun, who doesn't mind killing whoever
needs killing to get what he wants, I can be of service to you. Otherwise, I
will take that rifle and be on my way."

Chino's
eyebrows rose in surprise at the man's boldness. He laughed again. "I like
your courage, Hawk. Something tells me that if I tried to keep this rifle and
take your horse, you would shoot me, even knowing it would mean my men would
fill your belly with their bullets."

"You're
exactly right."

For
the first time Tess sensed a hint of fear in Chino's countenance. He laughed
again, this time the laughter of a nervous man trying to pretend he was not
impressed. He handed the rifle back to Hawk. "I think maybe we can use you
after all. You stay with us, watch what we do. We in turn will watch you, make
sure you are not lying to us about something."

Juan
spoke up. "I do not trust him, Chino." He walked up to stand beside
Chino, eyeing John. "Perhaps he is an Army scout."

"The
United States Army does not come into Mexico," Chino reminded him.

"I
think we should search his gear."

Chino
rubbed his chin. "Perhaps we should."

"Search
all you want," John told Chino. He moved his gaze to the Mexican beside
him. "But this man will not touch anything of mine. I have no use for a
man who is brave only because he is among many. I think perhaps this one here
would be afraid to challenge me if he were facing me alone."

The
air hung silent for a moment, as rage began to make itself evident in Juan's
eyes. "Are you calling me a coward,
señor?"

John
swung a leg over his saddle horn and dismounted in front of Juan. "I am. I
think you are one who talks big only when he thinks others will do his job for
him." He held out the rifle. "If you want to search my gear, then
take this rifle from me first."

Tess
wondered if the man called Hawk was truly as brave and daring as he appeared at
this moment, or if he was just plain crazy. Chino grinned, stepping away.

"Go
ahead, Juan. Take his rifle," he teased.

The
rest of them seemed to relax a little, a few putting their guns back in their
holsters to just stand and watch.

Good,
John thought. He was winning them over.

Juan's
look of anger and arrogance began to melt into one of great trepidation.
"I... I cannot just reach out and take the rifle," he said.

John
shrugged. "Sure you can."

Juan
looked helplessly at Chino. "He is trying to trick us, Chino. He does not
want us to look into his gear."

Tess
gasped when, in a flash, the man called Hawk raised the rifle and landed the
butt of it across the side of Juan's face, literally caving it in. Juan went
down with blood oozing from his eyes, nose, and mouth. Tess had to look away.
The smiles of the other men faded as they stared in shock, and when Tess dared
to look out of the corner of her eye, she could see Hawk had moved his horse
back a little and was waving the rifle at the rest of them.

"Now,"
he said, "anyone who wishes may look through my gear—whoever Chino says
should do it. If I find anything missing, that man will die, even if I have to
die myself. I can't take all of you on at once, but I won't be talked down to,
and I won't allow another man to steal from me. What's mine is
mine!
I
am here to work with you, use my skills to help you, and I will expect a share
of the profits, however Chino here normally splits them." He looked at
Chino. "Can I ride with you?"

Even
Chino seemed surprised and somewhat intimidated. He slowly nodded. "There
is no doubt we can use you, Hawk." He looked down at Juan, knelt down and
grimaced as he put fingers against the man's throat. After a moment he looked
up at one of the others. "Bury him," he ordered.

Good,
John thought. One down. Seven left.

The
Mexican he had killed farther back had been wrong. There were eight here, not
six. Apparently they had met up with two more men, probably those who had
driven the supply wagons.

My
God, Tess thought. The new man had killed Juan with no more effort than
swatting a fly, and apparently he thought no more of Juan than if the Mexican
had
been
a fly! She felt sick inside. This man called Hawk was as
ruthless as Chino, perhaps even more so.

Chino
ordered another man to search John's gear, and John turned his attention to
Tess again. He shoved his rifle back into its boot and walked closer. Chino
came along.

"She
will bring a good price," he told John, "even though she is not a
virgin. She is still tight. I think she has never had children. There were none
at the ranch from which we took her."

Tess
looked away, embarrassed, totally humiliated at being talked about as though
she were a prize cow.

"Where
will you sell her?" John asked.

"We
go to the coast. There are those who come there in ships to take white women to
southern Mexico, sometimes South America, sometimes even across the ocean to
China. I will sell her to whoever gives the best price."

Tess
thought she might vomit. She tried to hide her breast as best she could, but
the position of her arms made it impossible.

"You
can have a turn at her if you would like," Chino told John. "Just do
not injure or kill her. She is worth too much, except for her sharp tongue. I
am thinking of cutting it out. Where she is going, she will have no need to
speak, only to obey. Only her light skin and full breasts and slender thighs
matter. Without a tongue, a man can find other uses for her mouth, no?"

With
horror Tess realized what the man was saying.

"I
expect he can," John answered. "The trouble is, she would still have
her teeth. Maybe you should yank those out, too."

Both
men laughed wickedly. Tess felt someone grabbing her wrists, looked up to see
the one called Hawk had taken a huge knife from its sheath at his waist. At
first she thought perhaps he had decided to go along with Chino's idea of
cutting out her tongue, and her soul filled with terror. But instead he used
the knife to cut the rope that held her to the wagon wheel, although her wrists
remained tied. He jerked her to her feet, and the blanket fell away. Hawk held
her arms over her head, and she could feel his power. He was bigger than Chino,
and God only knew what he might do to her if Chino let him have his way.

Immediately
all her defenses and stubborn pride rose to the surface again. She was not
going to be any more submissive to this man than she had been with Chino. She
pulled at his powerful grip, but to no avail. "Let me go, you half-breed
bastard!" she growled.

Just
as I thought, John noted. This woman was the kind who would never give him a
second glance under normal circumstances. What was he doing risking his life
for her? Oh, hell, he knew why. No woman deserved to be treated this way, not
even a stuck-up white ball of fire like this one. "I see what you mean
about her tongue," he told Chino.

"I
tell you, my friend, we could have quite a time holding her down and putting a
stick in her mouth to keep it open. She would have no fight left in her if we
cut out that tongue, but then, some men like the fight. Maybe I will wait and
let the one who buys her take care of her tongue."

Tess
kicked at John, but her aim was off just enough to do little harm to the spot
she'd aimed at. John brought her arms down and jerked her around so her back
was to him, then wrapped a strong arm around her in a viselike grip so that she
could do nothing but kick at his legs with her bare heels and pound at his
chest with the back of her head. The others laughed at the spectacle as John
tried to hang on to her.

"She
can fight, that one!" one of them said. "It took many to hold her
down when Chino got a piece of her."

"Go
ahead and take her into the wagon," Chino told John. "It is my
welcoming gift to you. But he careful, Hawk. You are a big man. I do not want
her ruined for the one who might want to buy her, huh?"

His
laughter rang in Tess's ears as her stomach tightened painfully at the
realization that yet another strange, dark, cruel man was going to rape her,
maybe give her some horrible disease. She felt so filthy and disgraced, she
hoped now they would just kill her. Death was better than this.

"I'll
go easy on her," the man who held her replied. "The question is, how
easy will she go on me?"

They
all laughed again, and Tess struggled wildly as she was carried to the back of
one of the wagons. John threw her inside and was quickly in there with her, his
brawny body on top of her, his weight making it impossible for her to move,
especially since her wrists were still tied.