Jodi Thomas - The Lone Texan

The captain frowned. "Her brothers will all three come after her. There's nothing I could do to stop any one of them."

"Tell them I'll bring her out," Drum said. "Alone. It's the only way. If they tried to go in firing, they'd die."

Shelley laughed as if he knew a secret joke. "No one's ever come out of there."

Drum stepped around Harmon and said over his shoulder. "He's wrong, Cap. I made it out once, and I can do it again."

BONNIE AWOKE WHEN THE COWBOY LIFTED HER DOWN from his horse. She felt as if every bone in her body had been broken and put back together backward. She wasn't sure she could have stood if he'd set her on her feet.

She'd cried and fretted for what seemed like hours, then she'd done the unthinkable when in danger: she'd fallen asleep. Here she was, convinced she could survive in this barbaric place, and what does she do the first time she's tested? She sleeps.

The cowboy carried her through a low door and into a dark little house that was smaller than the hotel room back in Galveston.

"You'll be safe here," he said as he lowered her to her feet.

"Safe!" she said, trying not to wobble. "I was safe back in Boston. I was even safe in Galveston. How can you possibly think I could be safe out here in the middle of nowhere with a man whose name I don't even know?" She was getting wound up, and once she was wound, she would steam for a while. "I'm out here in the wilderness with all kinds of things outside that door just waiting to kill me or eat me. And inside seems no better. How am I safe in here with a man who'll probably ravish me or kill me at any moment?"

She drew in a breath to continue, when he stopped her with a short question.

"Which do you want first?"

"What?"

He squatted and lit the fireplace. It was well after sunup, but the rain at the open door made it seem like night. "I said, which do you want first, the ravishing, or the killing?"

Straw caught twigs aflame. The fire flickered. Bonnie stood frozen, her back to the fireplace. Her worst fear was about to be realized. The constant harping of her mother to stay away from all men had been right.

Never in her life had Bonnie Faye ever been speechless. Until now.

The giant stood and stared down at her. "I vote for the ravishing. I've never done it with a woman I thought could take my weight before.” A grin grew slowly across a face that hadn't seen a razor in a week.

Bonnie Faye did a second thing she'd never done before: she fainted.

BY DAWN SAGE HAD KICKED, SHOVED, AND BITTEN SO many times that they covered her head with a burlap bag that smelled of potatoes and tied her onto her horse both at the horn and thigh level with belts. She could make out daybreak and knew they were traveling west. As the hours passed, she tried to rest as much as she could, knowing that night would be her best time to escape. She'd need all her energy then.

For almost four years she'd been up North in what most call civilization. She hadn't needed her survival skills. Her life hadn't depended on constant vigilance. Only, now she was back where her life might depend on what she observed and knowing the right time to act. Though her eyes were midnight blue and sunshine streaked her brown hair, Apache blood ran in her veins. Her mother's people had thrived on this land for generations, and she felt those ancestors near as the hours passed and her senses honed. She thought of nothing but breaking free.

The men talked among themselves. Slowly she pieced together facts. Four voices. Two of the six who'd helped row her away from Shelley's place were either silent, or they'd disappeared somewhere during the night. The others didn't seem to be celebrating their bounty. She got the feeling they were hired men doing a job, and that job wasn't over until the bag of contents from the safe was delivered.

She might not have sight, but she knew enough to describe each. One she called Big Hands, because when he'd lifted her, his hands circled her waist. His voice, mostly orders, came from in front of her.

Another man she thought of as Frog. His voice was low and raw as if overused. He smelled unwashed. Sage was glad he rode behind her, downwind of her. He didn't seem to like having her along, but he did whatever Big Hands told him to do.

The third man she guessed was thin and wiry. He paced when they were stopped and circled round the others when they rode. She guessed that he must be of a small build, maybe so small he couldn't have lifted her up into the saddle. His words came quick, and usually when he passed beside her, he'd warn her not to fall asleep. Twice when she'd thought she heard other travelers near, he'd whispered that he'd put a bullet in her back if she so much as sneezed. After that, she thought of him as Sneezy.

The last, she hadn't decided what to call, for he spoke little and kept his distance. Mostly, she heard the other three talking to him, and from that she knew, he was having trouble handling his horse.

They followed no road or even a trail, which was probably wise, since they were surely being followed by now. Several times during the night Big Hands ordered everyone to pull up until he decided on a direction in the dark.

Each time they stopped, Frog released her bound hands from the saddle horn and lifted her down. When he pulled off the bag, she tried to hold her breath until she was a few feet away from the smelly man. He'd mumble a few swear words, then loop a rope over her neck. "I ain't losing you in the dark," he'd say as he pulled it tight, "but you can walk around a little if you want”

Sage dug her heel into the soft, wet ground, hoping the print wouldn't be washed away in the drizzling rain.

When Big Hands told everyone to mount. Frog tugged on the rope, pulling her back to her horse. Each time he lifted her up, he remembered to tie her legs down. Sneezy circled by twice and asked if he could hold the rope when they stopped, but Frog told him that it was his job.

Despite Frog's smell. Sage was glad he didn't pass her off to Sneezy.

One thing she found strange. To the man, none touched her more than was necessary. They hadn't even checked her to make sure she wasn't carrying a weapon. To them she seemed to be no more than something they were transporting.

After several hours of riding in daylight, Frog pulled the bag off her head again and offered her water and an inch of dried meat to chew on. He tugged off her gag but didn't appear to have even heard her questions. He had a hard face and eyes dulled from seeing too much of life.

When she demanded that she have a moment of privacy, he tied a noose around her neck before freeing her hands. After pulling the noose tight, he moved to the other side of a tree. Her allotment of privacy lasted as long as she could function without breath, for the knot was too tight to budge.

She thought of reaching for her gun tucked in the folds of her petticoats, but the pistol only had one shot. Even if she was lucky and killed Frog, there were still three others, who looked like they'd kill her without blinking.

Sage decided to bide her time so that when she shot, she'd have a good chance of escape.

Quickly, she went back to Frog, and he loosened the noose just enough for her to breathe while he retied her hands.

"Don't fight it, miss," he said as he led her to her horse with the noose still snug around her neck. "It'll go easier for you if you don't fight so much."

"I don't want to go with you," she whispered back just in case her kicking and screaming earlier hadn't convinced him.

He tugged the noose off and replaced it with the sack. "It don't matter what you want. We don't care. You're going into hell with the rest of us, and there ain't nothing you can do about it."

He lifted her onto the horse and tied her legs tight to the saddle. "Country gets rougher from here on out. Don't want you falling off."

Big Hands' voice came from in front of her. "If you behave yourself, well take the sack off tonight. No one to see or hear you out here."

BONNIE AWOKE TO THE SMELL OF STEW. THE AIR around her was warm and dry, but the tapping rain still sounded above her. She took a deep breath. Fresh beef stew boiling in a pot not far away. Smiling a moment before opening her eyes, her thoughts drifted as if trying to remember a home that had almost been real. A place where she used to imagine she lived when she was young. As soon as the adult in her reminded her there never had been such a home, she realized where she was. Not in a dream. Not safe.

Her hand shot up to her breasts, her throat.

Her dress was gone; only her cotton underwear remained.

She knew it. She'd been ravished. Some man she didn't know had taken her, used her for his pleasure, stolen her virginity… and she'd missed the whole thing.

That only left being killed. She'd probably be dead as soon as he finished his meal.

"Hungry?" a male voice said.

Bonnie twisted until she could see him half a room away at a table set for two.

"Do I get a meal before you kill me?"

"Might as well. I'll have to toss the stew anyway. Cooked more than I can eat”

Bonnie started to get up, then realized she had no clothes. She tugged a thin blanket around her shoulders. "You took my clothes."

"One” he said as he ate, "they were wet. And, two, I figured it'd keep you inside if you don't have any dress to run away in. You'll be warm enough in all those underthings."

"Oh," she said as if he made sense. She was caged with a madman. Silently she added clothes thief to his list of ravisher, killer, and robber.

There was nothing practical to do but eat, and Bonnie prided herself in always being practical.

She tiptoed over to the table and sat across from him. "Did you…" She didn't even know how to ask what he might have done to her.

"No," he said, pushing the pot close to her. "I figured I'd eat first."

Carefully spooning one serving, she lied, "I'm not afraid of you.”

"I guessed that," he lied back.

She felt like they were having a picnic in the middle of a great battle. She should be screaming and running around and fighting to save herself, but all she did was take a bite.

“This is good," she said after her bowl was half empty, and he hadn't attacked her.

"Thanks," he answered, still staring at her. "I learned to cook as a kid hiring out with a railroad crew."

She looked everywhere but at him. She didn't want to talk to the man who was going to use her and murder her.

The cabin was small but clean and orderly. Not the place she'd think of as a stage for killing and torturing. She also noticed that the chairs were a few inches taller than most and the table higher. He was a man who liked things that fit his body. Gulping, she realized he considered her one of them.

He stood and collected two cups and a bottle from the one shelf above the pump. He poured her an inch of something from a bottle. "Drink this. It'll take the chill off.” He added another inch. "At your size, you'll probably need more."

For the thousandth time in her life, she wished she was shorter. Everyone knew the perfect height for a woman was five feet two. If she'd been nine or ten inches shorter, he probably wouldn't have even noticed her in the hallway.

After downing the drink, she coughed.

The stranger handed her water, then moved to a chipped washtub to wash his hands. She studied him. He was very tall but well proportioned for his frame. His hair, sun-bleached and too long, looked like he'd cut it himself with a dull knife. There were wrinkles around his eyes, making him seem hard. She'd guess him in his late thirties and wondered if he'd spent all his life alone, for there was nothing in the house that hinted of a woman or any family. She also noticed no books or paper. Though the table had two chairs, only one rocker sat by the fireplace. A workbench nearby was covered with harnesses he must have been working on.

The door was closed, but the bolt lay against the wall. If she ran, she might make it outside, but where would she go? Even if she found a horse, she didn't know how to saddle one or have any idea which way would take her back to Galveston. A bear or some other wild animal would probably have her as his midnight snack.

"You can't keep me here," she said as calmly as she could manage.

He didn't answer.

Bonnie stood and moved closer to him. "And you can't kill me, so get that out of your head. You've got to let me go. Right now.”