Wild Lilly (12 page)

“But, Paul’s been nothing but kind and pleasant to me.” Her stomach soured, churning the coffee within to an acidic mess. She tore her gaze away from Eunice’s tear-filled eyes and stared out the window at Willow Creek. “How could he be so cruel to break a woman’s arm? How could I have missed that side of his personality?”

Eunice’s lips trembled as she forced the words out. “I hate hurting you like this, but Mr. McGregor wants your land. He has been bragging in the saloons about how he is going to marry you and get the land, then send you back East so he can continue to keep his mistresses.” She pressed her lips together and took a shallow breath. “He spends more time in the brothels than on his ranch, and he’s practically bankrupted his family by spending all his money on whores.”

Each word cut at Lilly’s heart until she felt numb. Her heart protested that he swore he hadn’t been to see Estrella. Maybe he had just switched his attention to another whore. As handsome and wealthy as he was, he probably had his pick. Swallowing hard, she blinked back tears. Eunice, too, rubbed at her eyes.

Making a soft, groaning sound, her guest stood and slid the black shawl from her shoulders. The back of her dress hung open and unbuttoned. The fabric could not close over the thick white bandages that swathed her back. As heavy as they were, red continued to seep through in spots.

Lilly gagged as the coffee came back up. If the bandages gave any indication, portions of the older woman’s back were flayed open. “My God, Eunice!”

Eunice glanced over her shoulders, the tears running familiar tracks down her cheeks. “Don’t let this be you. Finish out your contract, and go home. Go somewhere far away from here where men like my husband cannot reach you. If you stay with Mr. McGregor, this
will
be your fate.”

Carefully, Eunice slipped the shawl back in place. “I must go before Lee gets impatient for my return. Please, think on what I’ve said. I came here to try my best to protect you.” Cold venom filled Eunice’s voice. “I wouldn’t wish my life on anyone.”

“Why don’t you leave him?” She whispered the question, hands pressed over her heart as it broke.

“Because,” Eunice paused as she reached the door, “we have a daughter in a special school in Kansas City. I’ll stay with him until she has graduated. Then we can try to escape him together. She doesn’t know what kind of monster her father has become. I’ve sheltered her the best I can, and he never hits me in front of her. I’ll do anything to keep her safe, even sacrifice myself so she has a chance at a better life.”

The salt of her tears fell over her trembling lips. She didn’t know who she cried more for, Eunice or herself. “When you leave him, please let me know. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

Eunice closed her eyes and nodded. “I truly don’t deserve your kindness.” She pulled the heavy wood door open, hesitated, and gently tugged it shut as she left.

Bracing her head on her knees, Lilly let the sobs she was holding back rack her body. Sampson came out from the bedroom and nuzzled her with his slobbery nose, licking away the tears when she lifted her face. She threw her arms around him and wept. She wouldn’t stay with Paul if what Eunice said was true. How could she be so naïve? And how close had she come to becoming a broken spirit, like Eunice?

***

Storm blew hot air on her face, sensing her dark mood. She had changed into a dark brown dress and bonnet with sturdy boots. It was past time to do a ride of her property. At least that was the excuse. In actuality, she didn’t want to be there when Paul came looking for her. Today was Sunday and she was supposed to spend the evening at the McGregor ranch helping the boys catch up in their schoolwork. The coming conversation with Paul called for a clear head, and right now her mind felt stuffed with too many emotions. Her heart lay like a sore lump in her chest.

She slipped a compass into her front skirt pocket. She would ride due west, and come back home before dark. Then she’d go over to Paul’s ranch and try to get the truth out of him. If that didn’t work, she’d find an escort into the saloons and ask the soiled doves herself. Maybe she could get Rufus to come with her. He looked like the kind of man who could take care of himself.

Either way, she was
not
going to be one of those women that sat at home and moaned over their fate. Grand-mère Colette would have ridden over to Paul’s with a horsewhip and beat the truth out of him. The thought cheered her in a perverse way and she took strength from the memory of her Grand-mère’s love.

A small lunch filled one of the saddlebags, as well as her Colt revolver and a couple canteens of water. Giving Storm’s silky grey neck a stroke, she led him out of the barn and hauled herself up. Arranging her skirts behind her, she adjusted the leather breeches that protected her legs from the saddle and the sun. Storm moved skittishly beneath her, responsive as ever to his rider. Sage whinnied from the corral and Storm answered with a snort.

Sampson lifted his head from the porch as she trotted past. Once her crying had stopped, he had reverted to his usual, indifferent, self. He gave a soft snort and went back to sleep.

She followed an old trail through the vegetation and moved deeper into the brush. Storm was tall enough that the grass didn’t reach her legs, and the branches scraped off the leather of her breeches.

Storm’s long legs ate the land at a quick pace, carrying them further from Caldwell. The trees gradually thinned out, and the property became dominated by grassland from one horizon to the other. Dark gold with hints of green, Lilly saw nothing but an ocean of grass. In the distance, hawks circled overhead, gliding on the air currents.

She spent most of the ride trying to clear her head. There were two Pauls in her mind, the gentle and honest man who stole her heart, and the abusive and manipulative man that just wanted her land. Which one was real? Her heart wanted her to believe in Paul, but her mind kept on flashing to the image of Eunice’s ruined back and her whispered, ‘This could be you’.

What did she know about the desires of men? The few that she’d been with back home had culminated in some stolen kisses and quick touches through her dress. Maybe Paul was so good at kissing her because he had a lot of practice. She felt sick when she thought of him going to some other woman’s arms after they ate lunch together at her school.

At the top of a gentle rise, she loosened the reins and stood in the stirrups, stretching her legs and taking a moment to admire the view. No sign of man as far as the eye could see, other than a small plume of smoke to the south. Blotting her face with the edge of her skirt, she took a deep drink of the canteen and tried to figure out how far of a ride it was to the river in the distance. As she looked at the sun to judge the time, she became aware of three horses racing across the plain toward her position.

“Who could that be?” she wondered aloud, trying to squint against the bright light. It looked like three men. Maybe it was Paul and his brothers.

She waited, her heart flipping between joy and despair as she waited for Paul to catch up to her. Something must have happened, or he’d come looking for her when she didn’t show for her promised visit. She turned away from the approaching horses, dashing the tears off her cheeks. She didn’t want him to see her crying, not until she asked him some questions.

When she darted a glance back, the horses were closing in fast. Fear coursed a sick path through her body as she recognized the bearded face of Hank. Heart slamming against her ribs, she turned Storm and spurred him into a gallop. She might be able to make it to the smoke in the distance. Smoke like that meant fire, and a fire meant other people.

Fierce wind dried her remaining tears as Storm flew across the grass. The sound of his lungs bellowing out air and his hooves slamming into the ground became the sum of her world. From behind her came a yip as the riders began to slowly close in. She leaned over Storm, the ends of his black mane stinging her skin.

Turning to look, she saw that they were almost on her now. The plume of smoke hovered closer too, but not close enough to offer any help. It was time to make a decision, either stop and try to get the gun out before they reached her, or ride on and hope she could outrun them.

Storm stumbled a bit as he hit a hole in the ground, his pace slacking. She let him slow and turned him so she could reach into the saddlebag behind her for the gun. She tried to hide it in her skirt before they closed in on her.

The men rode around her in a circle, yipping and yelling at the top of their lungs as they grabbed at the reins in her hands and at her dress. Hank reached over and ripped her bonnet off her head, pulling out pieces of her hair with it.

Hank took off his dirty hat and placed the brown bonnet on his head. “Look at me. I’m a little schoolmarm who don’t know what’s good for me.”

The men roared with laughter and Storm snorted and pawed at the air, almost throwing her into the tall grass.

“What do you want,” she asked, dismayed by the tremble in her voice.

The man in the dirty straw hat spat some tobacco, beady eyes roaming over her figure. “What do we want? We want you to go back East where ya belong.”

“You need a reminder how we run things out here. Yer get’n pretty comfy, and we don’t like that.” Hank pulled out a gun and pointed it at Storm. “Now, I suggest you get off that horse ’fore I shoot it.”

She shook with fear, but couldn’t think of a way out of this situation. A movement in the grass caught her eye, but her attention turned back to Hank when he said, “Last chance. I’ll shoot this horse, ’n then shoot you.”

She dismounted awkwardly, trying to keep the gun hidden. This was her only option. Hank slid down from his horse and sauntered over to her with a swagger and a nasty grin.

“We gonna have us some fun, Miss Brooks.” He reached for Storm’s reins and gave her a lewd wink. She shuddered away from the smell of body odor and sour breath. Storm jerked on his reins and pranced uneasily. Her heart thumped like a scared rabbits, and sweat poured down her back.

The other men dismounted and stalked toward her, and the one in the straw hat massaged his crotch. “Now, we can’t have you every way we want, but you’ll still take care of us. Do a good job and I might let yer horse live so you won’t have to walk back.”

She tried to take a deep breath as the breeze brought some fresh air past his stench. With a jerk, she pulled the gun from her skirt and pressed the barrel into his belly. “Back up.”

Hank’s eyes flew wide open and he put his hands in the air. “Hey, now. We’re just playing with ya!”

The two men behind him spread out. One reached for his gun and she switched her target. “Don’t come any closer.”

A sudden stinging pain blossomed over her temple and her ears began to ring. Confused, she put her hand to her head and it came away covered with blood. She staggered and looked over with watering eyes as the third man threw another rock at her. This one missed and disappeared into the tall grass.

Trying to wipe at her face, her hand passed before her eyes in a blur. Storm moved behind her and she grabbed for the saddle.

“Get the bitch,” Hank growled. She tried to scramble back up on Storm, but the blackness continued to edge in on her vision. Her legs went numb and unresponsive and she slid to the ground, narrowly avoiding Storm’s slashing hooves. As unconsciousness took her over, she heard men yelling and screaming, but none of that mattered now. The darkness was complete.

Chapter Eight

Comanche

Reality began to come back to Lilly in bits and pieces. There was speech, in a language she didn’t understand, the movement of a horse, and the feeling of a hard, bare chest against her cheek. Her head throbbed horribly, and she kept her eyes closed while trying not to throw up from the pain. As the darkness pulled her back, she didn’t resist.

The next thing she registered was the smell of meat cooking, and a woman’s voice singing
Ave Maria
. Lilly wondered if she was dead and listening to the choirs of heaven, but she didn’t think they made stew in heaven.

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes with a weak hand. Tanned hide made up the wall in front of her, and dark fur tickled her cheek. There were simple paintings on the hide, horses done in bright and bold colors chasing buffalo. She gently raised her head and pushed herself upright.

A gasp of pain forced itself from between her lips as the room darkened. As she breathed deeply, her vision cleared and a voice came from behind her.

“Oh good, you’re awake!”

Gentle hands held her as she tasted the hint of smoke in the air. She blinked in confusion at the sight before her. A stunning red-haired woman, with freckles dotting her lightly tanned skin, smiled at her. An elaborate tattoo stretched across her forehead like a headband. A buckskin dress embroidered with bones and beads hugged a shapely figure.

“Where am I?” Lilly croaked out, rubbing her throat.

“Here, drink this. It’s willow bark tea.”

She tipped the wooden bowl and grimaced at the bitter taste. After handing the bowl back, she sat there and tried to puzzle out where she was.

The red-haired woman tossed her long braid behind her. “My name is Corina. You are in my home. We are part of the Comanche tribe.” Corina sat across from her on another dark fur rug.