When she settled, Miller patted her behind. “Good girl,” he whined. “Ain't no use fighting. If you get free, we'd just have to kill you early, and you wouldn't want that.”

He patted her again, a little harder than before. “I ain't never had me a preacher's woman. What'd you reckon' she'd do if I rode her a while? If I cut her first, she'd be all limp. She wouldn't mind nothing I did.”

He pulled a knife from his boot and slid it an inch along the center of her back, cutting through material as he passed. She felt the cold blade of the knife tickle her spine. He passed the knife back and forth, almost breaking the skin, almost ending her torture.

“Forget it, Miller. She's a good woman, and it's bad enough we got to kill her come morning,” Whiteley answered. “You keep your hands off her.”

“Right.” Miller laughed as his hand spread across her hip. “I won't touch her if that's what you want, Sergeant. But you got to promise I get to be the one to kill her. I got it all thought out.”

“I promised, didn't I? Now shut up.”

Karlee twisted, rolling away from him. But he scooted with her until he had her wedged into one corner of the wagon. Every few minutes, he'd glance toward Whiteley. When the sergeant wasn't watching, he'd pat her again as if playing some child's game.

Karlee knew she should be terrified or humiliated by the way the slimy little man played with her, but all she felt was rage. If she got free for one minute, Miller would be dead. She'd kill him and splatter his brains, if he had any, without a second thought.

Karlee almost laughed. The men kidnapping her might be a little surprised to learn that all this preacher's wife was thinking of was revenge.

After a few miles, the wagon turned off along the bayou.

“You think we oughta go in here without a guide?” Miller sounded frightened. “I heard tell the bayou is full of creatures, some living, some long dead, that'll bother a stranger.”

“There ain't nothing in here but a few gators, Miller. We're meaner than they are.”

Branches blanketed the wagon, hiding it from anyone who might ride past on the road.

“Get the woman out and tie her to one of the trees,” Whiteley snapped. “And don't bother her none, Miller, or I'll break your right arm so you'll have to kill her left-handed tomorrow.”

Miller took the threat seriously. He pulled her from the wagon and roped her to the tree without touching her more than necessary.

Karlee tried to shout insults at him, but the rag filtered the words into mumbling.

“I know you want me to pester you some. Women like it when I pester them.” He slid greedy little hands from the rope at her feet up to her thigh. “But Whiteley ain't in no mood to be crossed.”

He moved away, leaving her alone in the dark. She could see the men bedding down by the wagon. She wished they'd been dumb enough to light a fire. The sounds of water lapping against the shore blended with a thousand whispered calls in the night. After a few minutes of staring, the shadows seemed to come to life, moving about the fringes of midnight black like ghosts of the long lost tribe of Caddo lingered there.

Karlee twisted within ropes. Rage kept fear away. If she could get free, she'd make them all pay.

The ropes held.

Finally, she gave up her useless quest and relaxed against the rough bark of the tree. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the last few minutes she'd been in Daniel's arms. He'd admitted he wanted her. He had called her his.

If she survived this, she'd never nag him to love her. Just caring about her and wanting her near would be enough.

Karlee pushed the night sounds from her mind and tried to remember the way he'd felt against her. He'd been wild and demanding in his passion. He seemed as surprised by his hunger as she was. It was as if it were the first time for him as well.

Something splashed in the water ten feet away. Maybe only a fish? Maybe an alligator? Karlee refused to let fear consume her. Eventually, these fools would make a mistake, and she'd be ready. For the first time, she had a life to get back to.

She wasn't going anywhere but back to Daniel.

TWENTY-EIGHT

DANIEL SMELLED BLOOD AS HE CAME TO. HIS OWN blood, running down the side of his face. He felt for the cut along his forehead, shoving away a cloth that tried to stop the flow.

“You're bleeding.” Ida patted at the wound once more.

“It's nothing.” He tried to clear his head. “We have to find the rifles before they get back. It'll be our only bargaining tool for Karlee.”

The sadness in Ida's eyes made her look even older. “It doesn't matter,” she whispered. “They will kill us anyway. Just like they did my boy.”

Daniel held her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at his face. “You're the late preacher's mother. The one who was Altus's friend. You're the woman who disappeared after the preacher was shot.”

Ida nodded. “I knew whoever killed my son would come after me next.” Her accent evaporated as she spoke. “Since I'm German, it was easy for me to disappear into the settlement. For months, I told myself I wanted nothing to do with this town or its secrets. But the night of the fire, I came back like everyone else to help. I saw the way you fought for the church my son and Altus built. I could no longer stay away.”

“And the children who live in the barn with you are not yours.” Pieces were beginning to fit together for Daniel.

Ida held her head high. “They are now. My only son was shot down months ago. In the settlement out by the lake, I found children whose parents died in last winter's fever. Most of the young orphans were taken in by families, but the half-grown children were left to fend for themselves. I knew the boys would turn to robbing and the girls to worse. They are all mine now. They're all I have.”

Daniel wiped the tears from her wrinkled face. “Did Whiteley know who you were?”

Ida nodded. “I think I looked familiar to him the day he searched the house, but he didn't put it together until tonight. He caught me leaving.”

“You were looking for something, but not the guns.”

“I knew of no guns. I looked for a deed to prove the house mine, if such a thing exists. Karlee said you told her the house belonged to the church, but my son bought it the week we moved in. The week he died. Only I can't prove it without a deed. I didn't care at first, but now, with the children, I need a place.”

“I'll help you look later, I promise, right now we have to find the guns.” Daniel stood and helped Ida to her feet. “Karlee must have hidden them somewhere close. With Gerilyn and the twins here she couldn't have taken them far.”

“You've seen this stash of weapons Whiteley talks about?”

Daniel walked with her into the foyer and slid the panel aside. “Until yesterday, they were behind this wall. Altus must have built it when he did the house. Probably the only other person who knew about this hiding place was your son.” Daniel hated to ask, but it was necessary. “Was your son involved in the raids?”

Ida lowered her head. “A mother only wants to believe the best of her boy, but I think he was part of it for a short time. I may be German, but he was born in Tennessee right after I arrived in America. He was a man of God, but he was a Southerner, too. I think he thought raiding the supply wagons would stop some of the killing.”

Daniel listened as he moved through the downstairs rooms searching every place large enough to store even one rifle. He paid no notice of the boys sleeping in each room. He did, however, tap on the parlor door and wait until Valerie said sleepily, “Come in.”

As Daniel rummaged, Ida explained to Valerie and her mother what had happened. They followed in Daniel's wake searching everywhere he had in case he over-looked something the size of a rifle.

When he reached the kitchen, frustration echoed in his tone. “Where could she have hidden them?”

Ida's girls, who used the kitchen area by the fireplace as their bedroom, sat up and watched him as though he were no more than a part of their dreams.

“I've already looked in the barn and the upstairs for the deed,” Ida answered. “I'd have noticed one rifle, much less many.”

“Look again,” Daniel ordered. Valerie and her mother darted off, willing volunteers.

Sleepy Germans followed him as though he were the Pied Piper. The children mumbled among themselves while they wiped the sleep from their eyes and pulled on robes.

After opening the last cabinet, Daniel slammed his fists on the counter, rocking the walls with the blows. “I have to do something! They have Karlee!”

He ran blood-covered hands through his hair and reached for a towel. “I'm going after her.”

Ida's frail fingers reached out to stop him.

“Don't worry. I'll be back before dawn.” Daniel patted her hand. “I'd tell you to go somewhere safe, but I'm not sure any place in this town is safe tonight.”

Ida's older children moved around her, a youthful army. “We'll make sure that all in this house are protected,” one of the older boys said. In German, the young man began deploying his troops.

Never in his life had Daniel wished his brothers were closer. Wes and Adam were organizers, fighters. He'd always been the thinker. Even when he'd been wounded in the war, he was helping load men onto a wagon when shot, not fighting.

As he left the room, he asked one of the boys to hitch up the buggy. His leg was still too stiff to trust himself on horseback for hours, and when he found Karlee, he'd need something to bring her home in. He didn't even know if she knew how to ride.

As he opened the bottom drawer in his study, he realized how little he knew about her. He'd never asked, and she was not a woman who talked about herself. Did she ride? Could she shoot? Had she ever told another man she loved him? Why hadn't he taken the time to ask?

Daniel pulled out a gun belt Wes had given him for Christmas the year he'd turned eighteen. He'd shot the gun a few times at targets, but he'd never strapped on a weapon.

He was a man of peace. But they had Karlee!

Daniel belted the holster and checked the bullets.

Karlee watched the men. She could see them in the moonlight, but she knew they couldn't see her hidden in the shadows of the tree. As they slept, she sawed the rope against the bark, praying she could get free before they woke up.

Finally, the rope began to fray. Her wrists were raw and she felt near exhaustion, but frantically, she worked. She couldn't be sure of the time, but she guessed it was less than an hour before daylight when she freed her hands. The men would be waking any minute.

If she tried for the horses, they'd catch her. Assuming she could find the road, she'd never make it to town before daybreak. All Whiteley would have to do was ride by and pick her up. If she tried to go across country, she could be lost for days.

There was only one way to freedom. The river.

Karlee moved to the water's edge and slipped off her clothes. She buried them in the brush and mud. She'd worry about her lack of dress if she ever reached safety.

Slow as an alligator, she slipped into the water and began to swim toward the direction of town… she hoped.

Daniel thought he'd go mad looking for her. The Union had posted troops on every road into town waiting for Baker, but none remembered seeing Whiteley or any other men leaving in a wagon.

At the third post, Daniel ran into Wolf and told him what had happened.

Wolf reported vigilantes in flour-sack masks had broken into the local jail, kidnapping several men they claimed were murderers and about to get away with the crime because of the courts. Every lawman in the city was busy hunting them down.

To make matters worse, ruffians were looting, knowing their chances of getting caught were slim. They'd already broken into the bakery and several other businesses that had survived the fire. Wolf made sure they left the bakery empty-handed, but they'd still managed to damage the front of the store.