Mara McBain (10 page)

She gasped as his hand crushed her breast. She whimpered, writhing with pain. She froze as his hips humped against her. Her movements were arousing the bastard!

“Don’t stop now, keep begging. You’re a needy little whore aren’t you? I heard the way you begged my nephew to fuck you. I must say he is a lucky man. Rose doesn’t really enjoy sex, and now that she’s shaped like a sow, I have no desire to use her. On the way here I was regretting I wouldn’t be able to continue my dalliance with Catherine, but in her absence my nephew has thoughtfully provided me with a new treat.”

Genevieve’s heart slammed into her throat. The man had raped Trey’s wife. There was no way her husband knew about this. Wade was very right about Trey’s jealous streak. He would’ve killed him if he had found out. Why hadn’t Catherine told him? Was she afraid Trey would blame her? Wade was very good at twisting the truth. She had been Trey’s whole world. If she hadn’t thought Trey would believe her…

“I’m going to take you down a peg or two, teach you your place,” he growled, grinding against her again.  “I wish that it could be my hand that wielded the strap, but maybe in time when Trey tires of your insolence.”

Take you down a peg or two.
The words echoed in her head. Her father's face loomed before her eyes: the darkened twist of anger, the rage, and the pain that followed. She shuddered, remembering how his hands had broken and battered her. Trey was so much bigger. She couldn’t go back to that place again. She wouldn't, and if she betrayed Trey... A strangled cry of fury broke from her throat as she twisted, fighting to break free. Her elbow swung up in a desperate arc, catching Wade in the side of the head. He fell and she stumbled over him, hitting her hands and knees in the middle of the barn. She didn’t wait to see if he got up, scrambling franticly across the floor. Pulling herself to her feet, she hit the door and ran.

  Stomach growling, Trey trudged across the yard with Cole on his heels. Wade had disappeared on them at some point in the afternoon, and he fully planned on giving his uncle hell, but not until after he ate several pieces of the fried chicken Gen had promised for dinner. His mouth watered. It was one of his favorites. He scratched Brute’s ears as he stepped up onto the porch. The dog was coated in mud, his fur matted with burrs.

“What in the hell have you been chasing?” he asked, shaking his head. “You’re going to have to put up with it tonight. I’m starving and not messing with you.”

“You actually think that mutt understands what you’re saying?” Cole asked, stepping around him with a roll of his eyes.

“Not all the time, but about as often as you do,” Trey said with a chuckle.

They stepped into the mudroom and Trey’s good humor faded. Not only did the smell of fried chicken not greet him, but the kitchen was cold and dark.

“Damn,” Cole muttered, glancing around the empty kitchen with a forlorn look. “What the hell did you do?”

Trey swept off his Stetson and ran a hand over the top of his head. He didn’t have an answer for that. Shit, but he was hungry. Sighing, he walked to the bottom of the stairs, hat in hand.

“Gen?” 

When no answer was forthcoming, he wandered into the living room. Wade was stretched out on the couch with his head in what was left of Rose’s lap.

“Have you seen Gen?”

“Isn’t she with you?” Rose asked in surprise.

“No, she obviously isn’t with me or I wouldn’t be asking if you’ve seen her.”

“Please keep your voice down. I have a dreadful headache,” Wade murmured from under his arm.

“When did you last see Gen?” Trey asked, ignoring his uncle.

“She did the lunch dishes and then she said she was going out to check on a new calf,” Rose answered with a haughty sniff.

Biting his tongue, Trey slapped his Stetson on and headed back outside with Cole close behind.

“Did she say that Gen’s been out here since after lunch?” he asked as they crossed the drive.

“That’s what the twit said,” Trey muttered, yanking open the barn door. “Gen!” He scanned the barn. Tossing open doors, he checked the empty stalls before stopping at the cow and her calf. No Gen.

“Why did you bring that damn thing over here?” Cole growled behind him.

“What damn thing?” Trey asked, kneeling down to pick up a scrap of leather and familiar yellow flannel by the stall door.

“Daddy’s strap. I told Uncle Wade the other day that we should’ve burned that piece of history a long time ago.”

Trey looked up with a deep frown. “I didn’t, and this is Mama’s mitten that I gave to Gen this morning. Check the loft and the other buildings. I’m going to have a chat with good ol’ Uncle Wade.”

Rose screamed as Trey yanked Wade right off the couch. Gripping his uncle’s chin, Trey turned his head to the side to admire the man’s goose egg.

“What happened here?”

“Just a little accident while loading wood earlier. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but I was feeling a little woozy and just wanted to lie down.”

“So this little boo-boo of yours doesn’t have anything to do with my missing wife?”

“Missing you say? I had no idea. Perhaps the girl went into town. She was making a supply list earlier.” 

“I suppose you know nothing about my daddy’s strap being moved to my barn either.”

“That’s a gutsy move on the girl’s part. Touching something like that is akin to asking for a sampling.”

A low growl broke Trey’s lips, and he jacked Wade up against the wall.

“You might want to reconsider your flippant answers tonight, smart ass. I’ve had a long ass day. Where the hell is my wife?”

“I have no idea where the girl is.”

Trey glared at his uncle. The man looked calm, but he couldn’t meet his eye. Shoving him further up the wall by the front of his shirt, Trey let go, catching him by the throat instead.

“You’re a liar.”

“I don’t know,” Wade sputtered. His face darkened as he fought for air.

“You know something. What happened?” Trey asked. His voice was deceptively soft. His hand tightened. “What did you do to her?”

Clawing at Trey’s hand, Wade shook his head franticly.

“You better spit it out, boy.”

“Just talking—scared—she ran,” he choked out.

“What were you talking about?” Trey growled, his hand tightening of its own accord. “What the hell did you say to her?”

“Please!” Rose begged, pulling on Trey’s arm. “He can’t breathe. He doesn’t know!”

“The ‘can’t breathe’ part is probably true, but he knows why she ran, and he’s going to tell me.”

Wade stopped clawing and waved pleadingly at the hand clamped around his throat. Trey gave a slow smile and leaned close.

“I’m going to loosen my hold, and you’re going to tell me what you said to make her run and where she went. If you don’t, I’m going to snap your fucking neck like a rabbit. Do you understand me?”

Wade’s nod was timid, the fear in his eyes gratifying. Maybe the man wasn’t as stupid as Trey thought. His breath made a rattling noise as he sucked in air gratefully.

“Talk.”

“Told her you br – brought Thomas’s strap over for her and that I would enjoy watching you use it,” Wade choked nervously. “She turned her back on me and when I leaned over her, she attacked me. I fell and hit my head. When I got up, she was gone.”

Trey searched his uncle’s face. He couldn’t argue that Gen had been frightened he’d take a strap to her last night, but something still didn’t ring true about Wade’s story. He didn’t have time to find out what it was right now. His wife was out there alone in the dark and it was getting colder.

“You better pray she has the same story to tell when I find her,” he snarled, flinging his uncle to the floor and stalking from the house.

Draping the flannel scarf over her head, Gen wrapped the ends around her neck, tucking the remainder into the collar of her coat. She bit her lip. She’d lost one of Trey’s mother’s mittens. He was going to love that. It felt like it was getting colder. Tugging the remaining mitten on, she pulled her bare hand back into the coat sleeve. She hugged herself and looked around. In the moonlight, every tree became a threat. A small scream escaped her as something scurried in the brush behind her. Her heart hammered. Why had she not been smart enough to run down the wagon lane in search of Trey and Cole?
Because you were scared.
She snorted at the little voice. And she wasn’t now?

She’d stupidly ran blind in the woods, just wanting to put as much distance between her and Wade as possible. By the time she’d stopped for breath, she’d had no idea where she was. Trey had been right in telling her to stay close to the house. If she ever saw him again, she’d be sure to tell him that. Men loved to be right. Maybe that would lessen his irritation at her not listening. Sighing, she started walking again. It had been hours. She had no idea what direction she was going in or which direction she needed to travel. Unlike being lost in the city, where buildings and businesses provided landmarks, the trees all looked the same. She was holding onto the hope that if she wasn’t going back toward the McCade farm, that she’d stumble onto a neighbor’s place or a road to follow.

Her stomach growled, and she pressed the heel of her hand into it. It had been dark for a while. Trey had to be home, tired, and hungry. Was he angry? Would he look for her? What was going through his mind right now? What in the hell was she going to say to him when he found her? Her empty stomach churned. Wade was family. He was his father’s brother. Like him or not, Trey showed respect for his elders. Would he even believe her if she told him what Wade had said about her, about Catherine? Obviously Catherine hadn’t believed so, because she hadn’t went to her husband.

She skittered at a crash to her left. Tripping over a branch, she tumbled down a small hill, landing in an undignified sprawl. She rolled over slowly, taking inventory of aches and pains in search of anything serious. Pushing to hands and knees, she froze. Beady, red eyes stared at her from the hill. Her heart hammered. It made a snuffling noise, its big head swinging back and forth. Gen eased back onto her feet, crouching in the leaves. The shape ambled closer, rocks and dirt tumbling down the slope in front of it. She caught her breath when the giant pig finally stepped into a patch of moonlight. Jagged tusks jutted from its jaw, its snout wrinkling as it scented the air. The eyes were demonic.

A violent shudder worked through Gen’s slender body. This wasn’t a dog to make friends with. Would it attack if she moved? If she just backed slowly away would it follow? She risked a look over her shoulder. If she could find a tree with low enough branches, maybe she could scramble up. Pigs couldn’t climb, could they? Her daddy had often spouted off about them flying in his drunken stupors, but climbing had never been mentioned. Standing slowly, she backed up a couple of steps, watching the animal. It was still watching her. Suddenly it lunged forward, moving faster than something that size had any right to.

She dodged behind a tree at the last second, and the beast grazed off the side with a squeal. Scrambling on top of a boulder, she jumped with all her might for a tree branch. She caught it, but slammed against the trunk in an awkward swing. Feeling her fingers starting to slip, she dug the sides of her feet and knees into the bark, trying to shimmy higher. The tree shuddered as the hog crashed into the base of it. Her heart slammed in her chest. It wasn’t that big of a tree. Reaching the branch, she pulled herself up over it and stretched higher. Catching the next one, she wiggled up, cursing the bulk of her skirts as they twisted around her legs. Straddling the branch, she hooked her arm around the trunk and looked down, trying to straighten her stupid skirts over bare legs. Her knee was bleeding, and the damn pig was still rooting around the base of the tree.

He slammed into the trunk again, and she heard the sound of wood shredding. Swallowing hard, she twisted her head around the other side, trying to see how much damage the devil pig had done with those tusks. Bark flew as he snorted, butting at the base. The small tree swayed and Gen prayed harder. Her head jerked. She thought she’d heard something over the wild thunder of her heart. Holding her breath, she listened. 

“Gennnnnnnnn!”   

She let her breath out with a little sob. Her name had never sounded sweeter. Wrapping both arms around the trunk, she tried to yell back around the lump in her throat.

“Treeeyy! Help! There’s a pig!”

“Gennnnnnnn!”

“Over here! Hurry!”

She heard him mutter something, likely curses, but he still sounded far away.

“Treeeyy!”

“Keep yelling, darlin'. Talk to me!” he shouted back, and she saw a beam of light cut through the trees.

“Over here!” she called. “Thank God you came. I’m sorry. I got lost.” The light flashed across her tree and she waved her arms. “I want you to know you were right. I should’ve stayed closer to the house,” she said, her voice falling off in shame.

“Keep talking.”

The light was closer now, coming up the hill in a hurry. He was running.

“I’m up here! There’s a huge pig with tusks like an elephant, and he’s trying to tear this tree down.”

She thought she heard him chuckle.

“I’m coming, darlin'. Stay in the tree, and keep talking.”

“I lost your mother’s mitten.”

“I found it.”

She sighed in relief. He didn’t sound mad. She flinched, a half scream escaping her lips as the sharp retort of a gun cracked and echoed through the valley. The pig crumpled with an ear-shattering squeal. The outline of Trey’s broad shoulders and Stetson appeared out of the dark, and she sent a fervent thank-you up to God for gifting her to Trey. She giggled. Trey, on the other hand, had might want to get himself right with the Lord if she was the best he deserved.

“What’s so funny, little girl?”

She looked down at him at the base of the tree and shook her head, her whole body shaking in relief.

“I’m just so happy to see you.”

“I’ll be happy when I know you’re okay. Can you get down from there?”

“I think so,” she murmured, twisting around to reach down for the lower branch with her foot. All she found was air. She bit her lip, sliding the other way awkwardly.

“Tell you what, darlin'; if you can turn to the other side here, you’ve got a clean drop. Just swing your leg over the branch, scoot your bottom to the edge, and push off. I’ll catch you.”

“It’s awful far,” she said, her voice quavering uncertainly.

“Trust me. I’ll catch you,” he said, his deep bass washing over her in reassurance.

She peeked down at his up-stretched arms. Stretching for the lower branch again she sighed. She didn’t have a choice. She cursed herself under her breath. What kind of ninny got stuck in a tree? She wiggled until she could slip her leg over and was sitting on the branch. He had taken off his hat and was waiting patiently. The bulk of his coat made him look even bigger. Her husband looked ten feet tall and bullet proof.

“Are you ready?” she whispered.

“Ready and able, darlin',” he rumbled. When she still hesitated, he smiled up at her. “It’s okay, baby. I promise. I’ll catch ya.”

She believed him. Closing her eyes, she scooted her bottom to the edge of the branch and let go. There was only a moment of flight and then she was safe in Trey’s arms. He staggered back a couple steps and squeezed her tight, his nose burrowing against the side of her neck. She tugged her scarf aside, needing to feel his skin. His lips brushed behind her ear, and she hugged him tighter.

“Thank you for coming for me,” she whispered.

“You had a doubt?”

“No,” she whispered, giggling when she realized it was true. “I knew you’d find me, even if it was to strangle me for leaving the yard.”

Trey threw back his head and laughed. Gen snuggled closer. Damn but that was a beautiful sound. He gave a sharp whistle and then stooped to pick up his hat, still cradling her. She startled as a shape came hurtling out of the dark. Brutus spared a quick look at the fallen pig and then came over to press his cold nose to the back of her leg. Twisting, she tried to preserve a little modesty, tugging her skirt loose of her husband’s arm.

“Where were you?” she asked, rubbing Brutus’s big head.

“We already had a long talk about that while we were looking for you,” Trey said, giving the poor dog a hard look. Brutus hung his head. “Seems someone was out chasing God knows what, because he’s covered in burrs and mud.”

“It’s not his fault.”

“Why don’t you tell me whose fault it is?” he asked, setting her down as his horse materialized out of the gloom.

 Gen wrapped her arms tight, shivering at the loss of his heat. She jumped, covering her ears as Trey fired his gun in the air several times.

“What’re you doing?” she asked shakily.

“Letting Cole know I found you.”

“Oh. How will he find us?”

“He won’t. If I needed help, the number of shots and the intervals would’ve been different, and I’d have sent up a flare. He’ll head back to the house.”

“You’ve thought a lot about this.”

“My daddy put things in place when we were younger. It’s a big farm. You can’t just pick up a phone if you get in trouble,” Trey said with a wry grin as he knelt to gut the pig. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Gen bit her lip. She still didn’t know what to do.

“What question?”

“Whose fault is it?”

Her stomach clenched. She watched the big knife slice through the tough skin, and Trey carefully started to remove the pig’s insides. She turned away. Brutus followed her, and she picked at the burrs in his thick coat.

“Gen?”

“I guess you can’t blame anyone, but me,” she said softly.

“Is that a fact?”

She swallowed hard at his cold tone, but his next words sent a chill through her body.

“You know, one thing I really can’t stomach, is a liar. Do you want to try that story for me again?”

When she didn’t answer, he sighed and stood. She couldn’t take her eyes off the bloody knife as he approached her.

“Let me start the story for you, Gen. You went outside to check on the calf. From there, the details are in question. I found your mitten in the barn, so you made it to the cow’s stall. What happened then?”

“I—I just wanted to check on the little one,” she whispered, staring at the fingers of her bare hand.

Trey wiped the knife off and put it away, pulling a piece of tarp from the saddle bag. His silence was as frightening as his growl. Gen wet her lips.

“Wade came into the barn. He was still upset about me sticking my nose in his business with Lilly. I tri—tried to tell him that you’d pun—”Fear clogged her throat, and Gen shook her head helplessly for a moment.

Trey regarded her steadily from where he was now rolling the hog in a tarp.

“The deal with Lilly is over. You and I are squared away on that. If he had issues, Wade should’ve taken them up with me,” he said firmly. “What happened then?”

The taste of copper crept over her tongue as she struggled against the words she didn’t want to say.

“I hate liars, Gen. Spit it out. I won’t be angry with you for the truth.”

Hands clasped in prayer, she forced her lips to move. 

“H—he pressed real close. I was up against the stall door. I was afraid,” she whispered, her gaze and voice dropping. “He wanted to watch you beat me. He said he would enjoy doing it, if you would let him. He reminded me of my father. He kept whispering things to me, and he was touching me. I just panicked. I had to get away. Somehow, I knocked him down and he hit his head. I was afraid of what would happen when he got up, so I ran.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks and she waited for his anger, for more questions, for whatever would happen next. He remained kneeling there for a long minute or so, his head down. She watched his hands flex in heavy leather gloves. Drawing a deep breath, he stood. She searched his face. It was impassive, but his eyes sent a chill down her spine.  

He lifted the carcass, his muscles bulging even under the cover of his thick coat. The horse skittered nervously as Trey carefully situated the boar behind the saddle. Surprisingly, his deep voice was soft and soothing as he calmed the animal. Holding the reins, he turned to her and held his hand out. She hesitated.

“Bowie won’t carry both of us and the boar.”

Gen looked at the big dapple grey and shook her head, stepping back.

“Please. I’d rather walk with you.”

Her husband’s stern face softened a bit.

“Are you afraid of horses?”

“I’m not afraid of them as long as I’m not on them,” she whispered. “I think they’re beautiful and noble animals, but they don’t like me on their backs.”

“If I put you up there, darlin', Bowie will do everything in his power to keep you there. You have to trust me. He’s a good mount. I brought him all the way back from Texas with me.”

Genevieve smiled. She loved Trey’s loyalty. It was one of her husband’s finest traits.

“I trust you,” she whispered, putting her hand in his.

He smiled back, his eyes warming slightly in the moonlight. Boosting her easily to the saddle, he shortened the stirrups for her and made sure she was comfortable. Patting her hands, he urged her to relax her grip on the saddle horn. He reached into his pocket and produced her missing mitten. He winked at her delighted gasp and smile. Letting her wiggle her cold fingers into the warm flannel, he picked up the reins and started for home.

Back in front of the barn, Gen was stiff as he hauled her down off the big stallion’s back. She stumbled against him, her legs unsteady after sitting in the saddle. He held her, rubbing softly on her back, and keeping a rigid check on his temper. She’d been raised in a household where fists and leather flew easier than love and laughter. Given both Gen’s fears, and what he knew of her father, it wasn’t likely her mother had been spared the man’s brand of heavy-handed discipline. She had no way of knowing anything different. He shrugged. Same as he only knew the way things had been in the McCade household. It was going to take some time, but he’d teach her the McCade way.