Newton (Prairie Grooms Book 9) (19 page)

“Did you hit him?” Duncan asked.

“No, but I did,” Newton answered behind them.

Duncan glanced over his shoulder at him. “Jolly good – at least someone did. As much as I want to talk about this, I agree that we have more urgent matters to attend to. Such as staying alive.”

“Right,” Harrison said. All four men peered into the darkness. Seth and Sheriff Hughes were out there, somewhere, waiting for the moment they could storm in and rescue them. But that would be hard to do, considering there were at least a dozen outlaws in the near vicinity. All the four could do was hope and pray that the women remained safe and, of course, that they were able to get out of this alive.

A
rya was amazed
– Cozette was as fast and agile as she was, even in pitch darkness! She’d listened to the women in town talk about the duchess, especially when they didn’t think she was listening – how she had been raised by a well-respected fur-trapper, how her mother had died when she was young, how she’d lived like an animal (according to Fanny Fig) until Duncan Cooke had gotten a hold of her and taught her some decent manners (also per Fanny).

What she was, was a wonder. The duchess was the equal of any hunter among her people.

“Shhh,” Cozette warned. “They are close.”

Arya listened, heard a strange sound and realized it was the duchess sniffing the air. Arya did the same. The faint smell of smoke reached her, but there was no light. “They have put out their fire.”

“Yes.”

Arya swallowed hard. The fiends knew they were coming. “What should we do?”

“Find our men,” she said, her voice barely audible.

“How?”

Cozette touched Arya’s arm. “Search with your heart, not your eyes.”

Arya’s heart began to thunder in her chest. She knew what the duchess was talking about, but had been afraid to admit the phenomenon was real. She’d felt it several times before, one time in particular …

“Have you found him?”

Arya jumped. “No.”

“Try again.”

Arya’s jaw twitched and her mind clouded.

“You are trying too hard.”

How would she know?
Arya thought. “I do not understand what you want me to do.”

Cozette touched her on the arm again. “Relax. Think of Newton.”

Arya did as instructed, relaxing as best she could. An image flashed before her: Newton, bound hand and foot, the other men nearby. She gasped.

Cozette gave her shoulder a squeeze. “If they try to harm him, you must control yourself.”

“What?” Arya said. “I do not understand.”

Cozette faced her and put both hands on her shoulders. “Arya, I think you do.”

Arya gulped. Just how much about she and her husband did this woman know?

“Let’s go.” They set off again. Arya was now tenser than ever. Yet, deep in her heart, she knew exactly what the woman was talking about.

“
W
e need
to find out whom this man is working for,” Duncan stated as if that was all that mattered.

“In case you’ve forgotten, brother,” Harrison said, “we need to see to a few other things first. Like, how we’re going to bloody well get out of this?”

“We will.”

“At least one of us is confident,” Logan put in.

“We need to get him back over here, get him to talk,” Duncan persisted.

Newton snapped to attention and scanned their surroundings.

“Don’t,” Duncan warned. “Bring no undue attention to yourself.”

“Rather contradictory to wanting our captor to come have a chat, isn’t it?” Harrison asked. His voice was cracking, a sure sign he was getting flustered.

Newton’s breathing picked up. “Arya …”

“Quiet, Whitman,” Duncan warned.

Newton took a deep, shuddering breath.

“What’s the matter?” Logan asked him.

Newton struggled to his knees and stared into the darkness. Arya was there, just beyond his reach …

“Sit down,” Duncan ordered in a low voice. “Do not let them see you … searching.”

Newton knelt back on his heels and gaped at him. “What are you talking about?” he rasped.

Something whizzed past them through the air. “OW!” a man yelled.

“That,” Duncan said.

“What was that?” another outlaw asked.

Several more objects whizzed by. “Tarnation!” “Dagnabit!” “Johnny! What’s happenin’?”

“Yes, what is happening?” Harrison wondered.

Duncan smiled. “My wife.”

All chaos broke loose as the men in the darkened camp began to run around like chickens with their heads cut off. Someone lit a lantern just in time to see two more arrows connect with someone’s derriere and leg. Men were dropping like flies. Some were on the ground without having been hit by an arrow – the man with the lantern raised it to get a better look at them, and got hit in the head with a rock for his curiosity.

“They’re everywhere!” someone yelled.

Men continued to panic. A few guns were fired into the darkness, but no one could see what they were shooting at. Only their main captor kept his head. “Stop it, you fools! Stand your ground!” But an unseen assailant was a frightening thing, and the outlaws kept running hither and yon.

Finally the leader cursed, corralled three of his men and headed straight for Newton and the rest. “The one with the longer hair, bring him,” he ordered.

Two of them grabbed Newton none too gently and began to drag him away from the others.

“This one too,” he said and pointed to Duncan. “I’m not through with him yet.” He helped his remaining man yank Duncan to his feet. “I’m sure I can make use of you.”

Duncan smiled.

“You’re sure a cocky one!”

Duncan’s smile broadened.

“Why, you … I ought to punch you in the mouth and wipe that smirk of your face.”

“I really wouldn’t if I were you,” Duncan said.

“Duncan!” Harrison warned.

The man drew his gun. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t pistol whip you right now.”

“If you wanted to, you’d have done it by now. But you’re not sure, are you?”

“Not sure of what?” the man snapped.

“If everything your employer told you was true.”

Harrison and Logan exchanged a quick look, then Harrison glanced over his shoulder. The men who’d taken Newton were now out of sight.

“My employer is no concern of yours,” the man hissed in Duncan’s face.

“Oh, but he is … as I think you well know.”

The man sneered at Duncan, pulled an arm back and punched him in the face.

Harrison and Logan gasped – not at the punch Duncan had just received, but because Duncan seemed unaffected. He looked the man square in the eye and smiled.

The man glanced between his fist and Duncan a moment, then with a sneer, struck him with the butt of his gun.

Bad move. Cozette jumped out of the shadows, an arrow notched and aimed at the man’s face. To everyone’s astonishment, she hissed at him like a cat and bared her teeth.

“Good heavens!” Harrison managed.

The man holding Duncan stared at her, mesmerized. “It’s true …” he said to himself. “She’s – she’s a …”

Duncan head-butted him before he could finish, knocking him back. Unfortunately, with the man no longer holding him up and tied as he was, he fell to the ground. Cozette leaped over him, landing on the captor with enough force to knock the man to the ground and send both of them rolling into the darkness.

A shot fired and the lantern went out. “Oh bloody hell,” Harrison said.

“Cozette!” Duncan called. “Release him!”

They could hear a scuffle off to their left and the distinct sound of fists connecting with flesh.

“Cozette!” Duncan called, firmer this time. An order.

Something that sounded like a wildcat growled near them in the darkness.

“Good heavens!” Harrison said, alarmed. “What was that?”

“I’m thinking this is a bad time to be tied up like this!” Logan added.

“Ahhhh!” A man’s high-pitched scream.

“Cozette!” There was a sudden snapping sound, followed by footfalls as someone ran past. “Cozette?” The sounds of the fight near them had stopped.

Harrison’s ragged breathing was the only sound to be heard. “What in the world just happened?”

Logan sat, slack-jawed as he listened to the odd silence. “What happened to all the men?”

Harrison sat, his ears straining. “What happened to Duncan?”

“Not to mention Newton,” Logan added.

“Duncan!” Harrison yelled.

The light of a lantern coming to life illuminated the scene around them. Harrison sat and stared bug-eyed. “Good Lord!”

Men lay stripped down to their long-johns, bound in some form or fashion, some wounded. All had been neatly lined up and laid on the ground as if for inspection.

“What in tarnation?” Logan squeaked. “How did
that
happen?”

Harrison’s jaw dropped as realization set in. “Why … I haven’t seen this sort of thing since …” He stopped, his eyes lighting up, and began to laugh.

Logan looked at him, horrified. “Well I’m glad someone thinks this is funny.”

“You’ve nothing to fear, Logan,” Duncan said as he pulled his wife along beside him. She kept looking over her shoulder, her eyes bright and intense. For a moment she reminded Logan and Harrison of a wild animal. It didn’t seem to bother Duncan, though – he pulled her in front of him, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.

When it became obvious that he wasn’t going to come up for air any time soon, Harrison started to clear his throat. “Ahem … it would be nice if someone untied us. When you have a moment …”

Duncan slowly lifted his face from hers, looked into her eyes and whispered, “Well done.”

Harrison and Logan exchanged a glance but said nothing, both knowing they each heard what he’d said, neither knowing what it meant.

Finally, Duncan released his wife and bent to untie his brother. “I dare say, this all seems frightfully familiar,” Harrison said.

Duncan glanced around. “Does it?”

“Come now, you know what I’m talking about,” Harrison said in exasperation. “Where is he? The only one that leaves men stripped and trussed up like a bunch of rabbits is …”

“Does it matter?” Duncan said. “Just be glad none of us got hurt.”

“How long have the MacDonalds been here?” Harrison persisted.

Duncan sighed heavily as he moved on to release Logan. “Quite a while, is my guess.”

“What?” Harrison said as he rubbed the circulation back into his wrists. “What are they doing here? We haven’t seen them for years.”

Duncan pulled them both to their feet. “I’ll explain later. I promise.”

“But Duncan,” Harrison said, then studied him. “Wait a minute. How did
you
get free?”

Duncan grinned.

Harrison blew out a breath. “Mr. MacDonald is faster than I thought.”

“Duncan,” Cozette said, her voice languid from his kiss. “Newton.”

“Ah, yes. We’d best see to him.”

“Good heavens, I forgot about Newton!” Harrison yelped. “And what about Arya?”

Cozette smiled. “She is with him now.”

“With him?” Logan said as he stood. “But those men have him!”

“Not anymore,” Duncan said and put his arm around his wife. “But we’d best go see to them, before Newton’s wife makes short work of them.” He set off, leaving Harrison and Logan staring after him.

“Harrison,” Logan said.

“What?”

“Could you explain to me what in tarnation just happened?”

“How many weeks do you have?”

Logan sighed. “That’s what I thought you’d say. Might as well follow your brother, then.”

Harrison nodded numbly as they set off after Duncan and Cozette.

“
H
urry up
, Jake!” one of the men ordered as they dragged Newton along.

“This is too slow,” the other said. He set down the lantern he had in one hand, released Newton from his other, then bent to his ankles and cut the ropes binding them. “We were told to take him along. Boss didn’t say what shape he had to be in when we got where we’re going.”

“You mean to make him walk?” the other asked as he picked up the lantern.

“That or be dragged. His choice.” He shoved Newton to get him going. The soft nicker of horses drifted through the darkness toward them.

Newton’s heart raced. Arya was near, he knew it! Problem was, these men were armed. She could get hurt if she tried to rescue him. But that was insane, wasn’t it?

Or … maybe not? He had some idea of how capable she was. If anyone could pull off such a stunt, she could.

They reached the horses, and Jake grabbed a rope off the saddle horn of the nearest one, quickly tying it around Newton’s upper arms and chest. “Now this’ll make for some fun, won’t it, pretty boy?” Newton glared at him as the man laughed, turned and tied the other end around the saddle horn. He then mounted. “Ha ha ha! You won’t be so pretty when we get to where we’re going! Ain’t that right, Charlie?” He glanced around. “Charlie?”

Charlie was nowhere to be seen. The lantern sat on the ground a few feet away.

The man sitting atop the horse looked around nervously. Newton watched him as an odd surge of …
something
welled up inside of him. Excitement? Power? What was this?

As if sensing it too, the man kicked the horse and it took off. Newton knew what was coming and started to run before the rope yanked him to the ground and he was dragged. Unfortunately, the speed and strength of a horse was bound to win out eventually, Newton was just trying to postpone the inevitable.

He didn’t postpone it for long. After only a dozen or so strides, he tripped.

The rope snapped taunt, knocking the breath from him before he even hit the ground. Pain shot through his ribs, and it was all he could do to keep his head up as his body slid over the slick prairie grass.

The strangled wail of a man cut through the wind in his ears and the sound of hooves beating against the ground in front of him. He swore he heard something hit the ground not feet from him. If his captor had fallen off his horse, then he might really be in trouble. There would be no one to stop the beast!

But luckily for him, it did stop – after slowing to a trot, granted, but it stopped. He tried to cry out but couldn’t, the rope around his torso making it hard to breathe. He fought for breath as the horse whinnied and began to snack on the grass. He heard a high-pitched scream in the distance and knew it had to be the man who’d fallen from the horse. He just hoped whatever happened to his captor didn’t happen to him as well. He was hardly in a position to defend himself.

He lay on the grass, bruised and fighting for breath. He had to get untied! Then he heard something moving toward him through the prairie grass.
Oh no …

“Newton!”

Oh yes!
“Aghhh” was all he could manage in reply, but behind it was the greatest love poetry the world could imagine.

Arya was at his side, a knife in her hand. She cut the ropes and he sucked in a lungful of air. “Newton! He has hurt you!”

“Arya,” he rasped. “My hero.” He hoped he wasn’t as bad off as he sounded.

She sheathed the knife, then knelt beside him. “Newton, lie still.”

He swallowed, his throat dry. “No worries,” he managed.

“I thought I had lost you,” she said as her tears fell onto his shirt. He felt them seep through the fabric and wondered how such a thing was possible. Then more followed. “I was so angry!” she said, beginning to sob. “I saw them take you and I wanted to kill them!”

“Arya, sweet, calm down,” he said as he tried to rise.

“No, do not move. Rest. We do not know if you are injured.”

“My dear, I’ve just been dragged behind a horse for who knows what distance. Of course I’m injured.” He chuckled for a moment, but it hurt too much.

She smiled in relief. “You are alive.”

“That too, thankfully. Now help me sit up. I think I might have broken a rib, I’m not sure.”

Arya gingerly helped him to a sitting position. He winced a few times, but eventually was upright. “Better?” she asked.

“Much.” He examined his ribs as best he could with his fingers.

“Are any broken?”

“I don’t think so. Bloody miracle, that.”

Arya pulled him into her arms without warning and he grunted at the sudden strength of her embrace. “Newton, I love you!”

“I … love you … toooo,” he rasped.

She released him. “I … I don’t know what came over me when I saw what that man did to you.”

He gently pushed them apart so he could face her in the darkness. “What do you mean?”

“It was like something took over, something deep inside me. I wanted to kill him.”

Newton stared at her, suddenly glad it was too dark for her to see his horrified expression. “Did you?”

“No.”

He slumped in relief. “Oh, thank goodness.”

“I … injured him, though.”

“What?”

“Nothing too bad … I think.”

“What?! Arya, what did you do?”

He felt her shrug. “I … think I broke something.”

“Egads!”

“I’m not sure what.”