Passion's Fury (11 page)

The man called Zeke grinned at April, displaying yellowed teeth. He was short and stocky and wore heavily soiled clothes. His face was craggy and lined, and April winced at the sight of a zigzagged scar that ran all the way from his left temple to the corner of his mouth.

Whit Brandon looked much older, and while he appeared as scruffy as his companion, there was something less ominous about him. Perhaps it was the flicker of sympathy that she saw briefly in his eyes. She turned back to Vanessa and cried, “Just what are you planning to do? You’re my sister, but so help me, Vanessa, I’ll not tolerate—”

“You’ll shut your mouth or I’ll have the boys gag you!” Vanessa growled as she gestured to the two men. They came closer. “You’re going away with them. They’re going to take you to a convent up in the mountains near the Georgia border.”

“A convent? Please, Vanessa—” She was fighting to hold back tears, and she did not want to beg. “You won’t get away with this. Now let’s talk. You can go home with me, and we’ll try to talk to Poppa. I’ve sent for Uncle James, and when he arrives, he can help us—”

“Uncle James won’t get your message. Mandy showed me the letter you wrote him, and I burned it.”

April shook her head. “But why? Why are you doing all this? And to think that all this time I’ve trusted Mandy.”

“Mandy’s loyalty is to me. I’ve already told you that I am not going to let you cheat me out of what’s mine. You’re going to a convent, and my men will tell the monks there that you’re incorrigible. Your family can do nothing with you. You can’t leave men alone, and you’re a disgrace. They’ll take you in and keep you there to protect you from your sinful ways. You will be well cared for, but you won’t ever be permitted to leave unless someone comes for you. And I assure you, no one ever will.”

“Vanessa, don’t—”

“Silence her.”

April struggled as Zeke grabbed her arms and twisted them behind her back. Whit jerked the scarf from about his neck and stuffed it into her screaming mouth. Then she was lifted and thrown over Whit’s back. Vanessa yelled, “Take the wagon, like we planned. Get as far away from here by daylight as you can.”

“We know what to do,” Whit replied gruffly. “We’ll get back as quickly as we can.”

“Yes, I want you to hurry back to me.” Vanessa was now leading a horse from the bushes where it had been hidden earlier. “I know I’m going to need help, but I can manage on my own for a while. My father is in no condition to argue with me, and I can handle the servants.”

April was carried to the wagon and dumped roughly into the back. She lay there staring up into the cloak of night, frantically twisting her hands about inside the rope that bound them. She saw Vanessa peering down at her from on top of her horse. “I’ll tell everyone that you ran away because you were ashamed of what happened this morning. I’ll say that Poppa raped you, that he is insane and won’t remember whether he really raped you or not.”

April strained wildly against the gag, and Vanessa laughed.

It would kill her father, April knew, to be told he had raped her. He could not face thinking that he had done something so loathsome.
For the love of God, Vanessa, don’t do this evil thing,
she screamed silently. She heard the sound of Vanessa’s laughter once again, rising above the clip-clopping trot of her horse. Then the wagon moved and Vanessa disappeared into the night.

The wagon moved slowly. Zeke’s horse, Satan, was tied behind it, and the beast snorted with impatience. After a while, Zeke began complaining about the pace, and Whit murmured, “This is a rough road. I can hear that girl rolling and bumping around back there now. If I go any faster, she’ll be bruised from head to toe.”

“So who cares? I don’t want to risk—”

“You ain’t risking nothing. Nobody’s gonna look for her, ’cause ain’t nobody gonna doubt Vanessa’s story. If you don’t like us goin’ so slow, you get on that fancy horse of yours and ride just as fast as you want to.”

Zeke snickered. “It really tears you up, don’t it? Knowing I got such a damn good horse. Can’t nobody beat him.”

“That don’t bother me. What makes me sick is the way you’re so almighty cocky about it. Always bragging and running that mouth of yours. Someday somebody’s gonna beat you and then you’ll shut up.”

“Well, when that day comes, you crow about it, you hear? Till then, you just remember I own the fastest horse in the state of Alabama, and if it hadn’t of been for what I won this past year racing that horse, we wouldn’t have had the money to keep you in that rotgut popskull you love so good.”

Whit did not reply, and after another snicker, Zeke fell silent. April stared up into the black sky once more.

She suddenly found herself hating the sheltered life she had led. She had always envied Vanessa her freedom, but until now, she had not fully realized just how much she resented the useless life she had been forced to lead. Had she been allowed more independence, perhaps she would be better equipped to cope with this horrifying situation. Survive, she ordered herself. Survive and fight back. She would fight. Then she would deal with Vanessa.

Her eyes closed, opened, then closed once more as sleep mercifully took her. After what seemed only moments, the wagon lurched to a stop and the sun was shining on her face. Raising her head, she looked about to see that they were stopping beside a dilapidated old barn. She could hear the two men discussing spending the day inside.

“We can pull the wagon right inside,” Zeke was saying. “Ain’t nobody around. Nobody’ll see us. We can get some sleep and start out again once it’s good and dark.”

“Suits me. I’m about to fall asleep in my tracks.”

“You want me to take that outta your mouth?” Whit asked her. “I will if you promise to be quiet so’s I can get some sleep. I reckon you’re hungry, too.” He reached down and jerked the scarf away. As she gasped for the sweet air, he warned, “Now don’t you give us no trouble, girl I’m just doin’ a job. I don’t want to see no harm come to you. Now how about some corn dodgers? That’s all I got to offer you. There ain’t nothin’ to drink ’cept whiskey, and I got a feelin’ you ain’t a drinkin’ woman.”

Zeke appeared at Whit’s side and looked down at her, grinning with yellowed teeth. “Naw, she ain’t no drinkin’ woman. She’s all lace and velvet and fluffy stuff. I’ll bet she sips her tea from a china cup.” He threw back his head and laughed. “Bet you’d never see
her
match drink for drink with a man like her sister can!”

“Leave her alone.” Whit walked to the back of the wagon. “I guess we better take her for a walk so’s she can tend to her, uh—personal needs.”

Zeke spoke up quickly. “You go on and take the wagon inside. I’ll take her to the woods.”

Whit ignored him. He reached into his pocket and brought out a knife and, with one quick movement, slashed through the ropes around her wrists. She rubbed her hands together and stared down at the bruised flesh. He said, “You been strugglin’ against them ropes, girl, and that’s how come you got rope bums. You best just settle on down. You ain’t doin’ nothing but hurtin’ yourself.”

He reached in and clamped strong hands around her waist to lift her up and out of the wagon. Her legs felt weak as her feet touched the red clay ground, and she sagged against him briefly but quickly regained her balance and stepped back. She did not want help of any kind from either of these men.

“Come along.” Whit started toward thick underbrush at the edge of the road.

She held back. Zeke laughed, and Whit shot him a furious look. “Might as well come on, girl,” he snapped. “Or else I’ll tie you up and you can wet yourself. Now come along. I ain’t gonna look.”

With flaming cheeks, April stumbled along behind him.

When they were out of Zeke’s sight, Whit said, “Okay, you get behind that tree over yonder, and I’ll wait right here. Don’t get no ideas about runnin’ off, ’cause these woods is full o’ bobcats and wild hogs, and I’ll just let them tear you to pieces if you try anything.”

For the first time, April spoke. “Mr. Brandon, if I do try anything, you may rest assured it won’t be just an attempt. I’ll succeed.”

“Well, I’ll be doggoned.” He slapped his knee. “The little filly’s got some spunk after all. Glad to hear that, little lady. I figured we had us a real milksop.”

With a swish of her skirts, April moved behind the tree, tended to her needs, then returned to follow him to the barn. Zeke had already moved the wagon inside and out of sight. Three blankets were spread side by side in a corner. She snapped, “I’ve no intention of lying down beside you two.”

“I don’t see where you’ve got any choice.” Whit sounded annoyed for the first time. “Now stick out them wrists, ’cause I’m going to tie you up good.”

“Let her have her way.” Zeke strode over and snatched up one of the blankets, then walked to the other side of the barn and threw it down in the shadows. “Let her lay over here with the spiders and horse dung if she’s too good to bed down with us. And once you get her hands tied, tie up her legs, too, so she won’t be up wandering around.”

Whit nodded. When he’d finished binding her, he lifted her as unceremoniously as a bag of flour, flinging her easily over his big shoulder to carry her across the straw-littered floor. But when he laid her down on the blanket, he did it gently. Despite his gruffness and hard drinking, something told her she had nothing to fear from this man.

Once the big doors were closed, there was little light inside the barn. She tried to sleep but soon gave up and let herself become lost in worry.

She heard movement before she saw the hulking shadow moving stealthily around the wagon. Footsteps, soft, muted, sneaking. Her skin prickled as she saw Zeke creeping toward her, eyes gleaming as brightly as a cat’s in the dark.

Stricken by terror, she waited too late to scream. He was upon her, covering her mouth with his hand as he fell on top of her, straddling her body. She bit down on one finger, but before she could make a sound, he had gripped her throat so tightly she could not even breathe.

“Now, you just be still, or I’ll have to hurt you.” He leaned close and she could smell the sweet-sour odor of whiskey. “It won’t bother me none to slit your throat. I’ll just tell your sister you tried to get away and you drowned or something. She’d probably be relieved to know you was out of the way for good. So you just relax, and ol’ Zeke’ll show you a real good time.”

He pulled a sweat-stained handkerchief from his pocket and stuffed it quickly and tightly into her mouth. “You’ll choke on that if you struggle much,” he said matter-of-factly. His laugh was nasty, taunting, as he held her by the neck with one hand and used the other to hold her down. “Me and you gonna have ourselves a time. You better get your fill while you can, ’cause them monks ain’t gonna give you no lovin’. You can bet on that. Now, I gotta untie your feet.”

April began to struggle once more as soon as the rope was removed from her ankles. Zeke rasped, “Better be still now, or I’ll kill you.”

“What in the hell is all that racket about?”

Whit’s anxious, angry voice caused Zeke to freeze. April knew he was scared of the bigger man, older man. She continued to twist beneath him, even though he wrapped his fingers tightly about her throat once more and hissed, “Shut up, damn you. Don’t you make a sound.”

“Zeke, what are you doing?”

Whit Brandon got up and moved quickly across the barn.

Whit came around the wagon, stopped short, then moved quickly to grab Zeke by his shoulder and sling him to one side. “You sorry bastard, I ought to kill you dead right here and now! I told you you won’t gonna lay a hand on this girl, and I meant it.”

He reached down and yanked the gag from April’s mouth. She began coughing and gasping and crying all at once. “How bad you hurt, girl?” Whit demanded, roughly pulling her up to her feet. “What did he do to you?”

April could only shake her head as she pulled her tattered clothing about her.

“I didn’t do nothing,” Zeke whined, cautiously moving back, out of range of Whit’s fists. “I was just foolin’ around. Didn’t see no harm in that. I wasn’t gonna really do nothin’. You can see she’s got her clothes on.”

“You lying sonofabitch! You think I don’t know what you would’a done if I hadn’t heard and woke up? Now you get the hell out of here before I give you a beatin’ you won’t forget.”

Zeke stiffened, and his eyes narrowed. “You ain’t got no right to talk to me like that. You ain’t my boss. You can stop threatenin’ me, ’cause I ain’t scared of you.”

Whit whirled around, fists doubled menacingly. Zeke took a few shuffling steps backward before turning to run the rest of the way out of the barn.

“You all right, girl?” His eyes were filled with concern as he faced April once again. “You sure he didn’t hurt you?”

“He didn’t succeed, thanks to you,” she whispered, rubbing her throat.

“I should’ve kept a closer watch on him. Zeke can be a mean one when he wants to.”

The words came rushing out. “Why don’t you just let me go, Mr. Brandon? You seem like a nice man. Not at all like Zeke. Have mercy on me, please.” Her wrists were still bound, but she reached out to clutch the front of his shirt. Anguish was mirrored in her eyes.

“Now, I can’t do that, girl,” he said gruffly, gently pulling her hands away. “I got a job to do. That sister of yours has promised to pay me well, and what with the war and all, I’ve got to find some way to make a living without folks noticing, or else they’ll wonder why I ain’t off fightin’ in the war. So you’re just wastin’ your breath.”