Melissa laughed outright at the picture Tanya painted for her. Suddenly the laughter broke off in midstream and her smile froze on her face, becoming more of a grimace.
Before Tanya had more than a second to wonder about it, she heard splashing in the water behind her. Her gaze fell on Rosemary at the water’s edge, her mouth open in a soundless scream, but as Tanya turned to see what was happening, something caught and tugged hard at her hair. As she stumbled backward, she was seized hard about her chest and under her arms, and the next she knew she was being lifted out of the water. As her startled thoughts registered the feel of a horse beneath her, a hand was clamped down on her mouth, stopping the reflexive scream in her throat.
In a matter of seconds they were out of the water on the opposite side of the river and thundering through the trees. The attack had come before any of them could scream for help. Until someone wondered why they were taking so long and went to investigate, no one would realize they were in trouble. By then it would probably be too late. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Tanya reasoned that the wagon train itself had not been attacked. There had been no sounds of alarm or fighting before, during, or right after the abduction at the river. The Indians had arrived swiftly, silently snatched up their hapless victims, and departed. Tanya doubted anyone else had been taken but the five of them.
All these thoughts were racing through her mind as Tanya struggled to release her captor’s hold. Desperately she squirmed and wriggled and kicked, considering a fall from the horse a small matter compared to what was in store for her if she failed to escape. She freed her arms and flailed at the bronze thigh resting so close to hers; clawed at the arms and hands binding her to him.
She felt his hold slacken slightly, and just when she thought she might be making some headway, he brought his arm up tightly about her ribs under her breasts until all the breath left her lungs and she could draw no more. Her head began to spin, then a grey mist with brilliant yellow spots rose up before her eyes. Struggle as she might, the mist was swallowing her, and she felt her limbs going limp, useless. Her last conscious thought was, “This has to be a dream, a nightmare! Oh, God, don’t let this be real!”
Consciousness returned all too soon. Her first sense was of the steady rhythm of the horse beneath her. There was a warmth along her right side, a drumming in her ear. Tanya stiffened as she remembered what it was all about and realized the warmth came from the Indian’s body as she lay against him, her head against his chest. The pounding was the beating of his heart in her ear. Screwing up her courage, she opened her eyes for her first glimpse of her captor.
She looked straight up into the darkest eyes she’d ever seen in her life. They were as black as night, so much so that she could not tell where the iris left off and the pupil began. Tanya could see her reflection perfectly. Not able to hold his gaze, she let her own wander to his high forehead beneath the decorated headband, the blue-black hair hanging in braids across his shoulders, and the two eagle feathers dangling on one side. Her eyes traveled from his high cheekbones along his well-defined jawline, then skipped to the straight, sculptured nose and down to the firm, unyielding shape of his lips. Feeling his eyes still upon her as she studied him, she jerked her gaze back to his and thought she caught a glimmer of humor in his eyes before they again became unreadable mirrors.
His shoulder was solid beneath her, his arm corded with muscles, his hands long-fingered and strong. His stomach was flat, his hips — as far as she could estimate — were slim, and his chest broad, deep, and hairless. His skin was a bronzed copper shade, and she noticed that he was clean, smelling of leather, wood and smoke, not at all repellent but very masculine. As she searched her brain for a word to describe him, she was shocked to find the only words to come to mind were
handsome, noble male.
“I must be out of my mind!” she thought in bewilderment.
Tearing her gaze from him, she struggled to sit up straight, and was surprised when he aided her attempt, though she noted he remained alert to her every move lest she became unruly again. Glancing about, she saw they were traveling across the plains, heading for the foothills and mountains to the west. The sun was setting. Darkness would be on them soon, and surely they would be lost to rescue then. By craning her neck about and peering over his shoulder, she could see the other Indians and their captives. She counted ten Indians and horses in all, and only four other women besides herself as captives. Behind them she could see no sign of a rescue party.
Her gaze reviewed their group. Rosemary rode before a tall, stern-looking Indian a bit older than the others. Still in shock, her eyes had a fixed, glazed look, as if she was not aware of a single thing that was happening. Nancy was sitting in a crumpled heap across her brave’s lap. Her chemise was undone and her straight brown hair straggled down across her bared breasts. The coppery hand of the brave rested intimately on her thigh.
If the situation had not been so serious, Tanya could almost have laughed at Suellen’s predicament. As it was, a smile flirted at the corners of her mouth for the smallest of seconds. The snooty Suellen’s nose wasn’t up in the air now. As a matter of fact, it was just the opposite. She was riding slung stomach down across the Indian pony’s back. Her head and arms dangled down on one side, her legs on the other, and her rear in the air. Every time she attempted to protest this position in her piercing voice, her captor administered a smart slap to her posterior.
Poor little Melissa drew all of Tanya’s compassion. She sat in tears before one of the ugliest, most repulsive human beings that Tanya had ever seen. She sat stiffly, a look of abject terror on her face. There was a vivid, rapidly darkening bruise on her cheek. Her petticoat was torn half off, revealing the entire upper portion of her body, the cloth lying limply in her lap. Her captor was taking pleasure in tormenting her by squeezing her breasts, cruelly twisting the already red, swollen nipples between his fat, stubby fingers. Down his three chins saliva dripped, and Tanya could almost smell the stench of his fat body from where she rode. Tanya shivered involuntarily and drew a curious look from her captor.
As she studied the remaining Indians, Tanya reluctantly admitted that though they were a fearsome lot, they seemed a proud people. It showed in the way they carried themselves, even on horseback. For the most part they were tall, fit, and well-muscled. The long, slim bone structure of their faces was cleanly defined with high cheekbones and straight noses, and Tanya was thankful they were not decorated in hideous war paints.
One young brave came abreast of them and said something in a deep guttural tongue to her captor. Since he glanced at her as he spoke, she assumed his remark had to do with her. Her captor answered in the same language.
Although the young man was no more of a menace than the man on whose big black horse Tanya rode, she unconsciously shifted closer to her captor for protection. It may have been her imagination, or did his hold tighten on her waist?
Night fell and they rode on into the darkness. Lulled by the monotonous movement of the horse and the length of the ride, Tanya finally gave up the struggle to keep her eyelids open. She slept, once again supported by that broad bronze chest.
She opened her eyes to a darkness so black she was at once disoriented. The only reality was the hard wall of muscle behind her, the iron band about her middle, and the warmth of the black horse beneath her travel-weary bottom. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out the shadows of trees on either side of the trail they were on. They seemed to be climbing, so she guessed they were across the plain and into the foothills she had seen.
Tanya sighed and twisted about, trying to find a more comfortable position. The brave assisted her, grunting something unintelligible near her ear. She supposed he was telling her to sit still. Were they never going to stop to rest or eat? Tanya’s tongue felt like cotton, and her stomach was surely touching her backbone. The attack had come in late afternoon after the wagon train had camped for the evening, and Tanya was regretting her missed supper. It seemed a trifling thing to worry about under the circumstances, but she was bone-weary, and dreadfully hungry and thirsty. To top it all, she was sure to disgrace herself unless they stopped soon. She just had to find a place to relieve herself before her bladder burst.
When they finally did stop at a clearing in the dense trees, Tanya’s muscles were unprepared. Her brave lowered her to the ground, and before her limbs had adjusted to her weight, he pushed her roughly toward where the other women were being dumped. He grunted a terse order in his deep voice, which she interpreted as a directive to stay put, and went to tend to his horse. The other men did the same, leaving the women in a trembling and frightened huddle in the center of the clearing. Adversely, Tanya now wished they had not stopped, for as long as they were riding she felt somewhat safe. Now a feeling of dread was creeping up her backbone.
Looking at the pathetic group about her, Tanya’s fright grew. Rosemary was still in her fright-induced trance, staring stupidly ahead at nothing. The other three, Suellen included, were weeping softly. In an odd way Tanya felt removed from them, neither crying nor hidden from reality in a stupor. Admittedly, she was scared, unsure whether her limbs were shaking from fright or weariness, but an icy calm was setting in. Dread of facing an unknown, inevitable fate made her eyes huge golden orbs in her face, but a fierce will to survive whatever was in store was holding the tears at bay.
Moved by compassion, Tanya wrapped the trembling Melissa in her arms. Melissa clung to her, sobbing. With words so soft and shaky that Tanya could barely understand her, she whimpered, “Oh, Lord, Tanya, I’m so scared! What is going to happen to us?”
Tanya patted the blond head ineffectually. “I don’t know, Missy,” she answered. “It all depends on them.” She glanced at the approaching Indians.
Her own tall captor clamped a hand around her upper arm and led her off toward the trees. Quaking inwardly, she stumbled, half running to keep up with his long strides. Just inside the treeline he stopped, and with a few brief hand signals made her understand she was to relieve herself here.
She stared at him dumbly for a moment. Modesty overcoming her fear, she motioned for him to turn around. Folding his arms across his chest, he continued to watch her steadily, making no move to honor her request.
Mad enough to spit, she frowned at him. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” she complained. “It’s too dark in these woods to see two feet in front of me. I wouldn’t get a yard away before you heard me!” She thrust out her chin and requested primly, “A little privacy would be appreciated, if you please.”
She knew he hadn’t understood a word, but his lips quirked suspiciously, as if he were holding back a smile. “Indians aren’t supposed to smile, are they?” she wondered to herself.
Whatever, the result was that he gave her a level, warning look, then turned his back to her. Knowing her chances of escape were nil, she quickly and thankfully used her few seconds of privacy to empty her aching bladder.
He led her back into the clearing, and Tanya immediately wished he hadn’t. The scene before her was right out of the halls of hell. She stopped so abruptly that she caused her captor to walk right into her rigid back. He grumbled what amounted to a curse, but she was beyond noticing. Mesmerized by the horrifying scene before her, she was at once revolted, but unable to turn away.
One of the Indians had built a small, smokeless fire that illuminated the area well enough that Tanya could not help but see what was happening, and if ever she had prayed to go deaf it was now.
Not one of her friends had a stitch of clothing on, and each was being raped by a different savage. Not a sound came from Rosemary as a grunting, sweating savage rutted over her. Nancy was sobbing loudly and crying out, and Suellen was screaming at the top of her limitless lungs and cursing with words she should have never known.
Tanya’s eyes zeroed in on Melissa, struggling beneath her grotesque captor. The ugly beast was thrusting himself into Melissa’s tender flesh with a malicious vengeance, while he kneaded and bit at her bruised breasts. Melissa’s wild shrieks of agony ripped the air.
“Oh, God!” Tanya muttered before she bent and vomited violently on the ground before her.
Her captor gave her little time to recover herself as he dragged her close to the fire and shoved her to the ground. Fully expecting to have to defend herself, Tanya was surprised when he seated himself beside her, dug into a leather bag, and handed her a strip of dried meat. Eyeing him warily, she watched as he took out another container, shook out some dried grain and berries into his palm and mixed it with water. Cupping her hands before her, he dumped the mixture into her palms, motioning for her to eat it. Then he prepared more for himself.
Over her initial shock but still revolted, Tanya tried not to notice when other braves replaced the first attackers over the prone bodies of her friends. Feeling guilty that she was the only one not violated so far, she was also honest enough with herself to feel grateful, knowing she did not wish to trade places with any of them, not even to spare them. It was selfish, she knew, and she felt badly about it, but she could not help them by wishing ill on herself. Accepting this, she chewed morosely on her food, willing her stomach to accept the needed nourishment. She took the water he gave her and drank greedily, then sat quietly and waited to see what would happen next.
After a while, he rose. Motioning for her to stay there, he stalked off toward where the horses were staked. He was gone only seconds before Tanya was grabbed roughly from behind. Thrown onto her back, she looked up into the horrid, beefy face of the beast who had attacked Melissa so vindictively.
Momentarily too stunned to do more than emit a startled squawk, Tanya’s survival instinct suddenly erupted full force. If she were going to be violated, it would not be by this animal if she could avoid it, even if it meant her life! A low, vicious snarl issued from deep in her throat, startling both herself and her attacker. Then Tanya was a blur of flailing arms and legs as she fought him. He threw himself onto her, trying to subdue her with his weight, aiming blows at her body and face. She successfully deflected the worst of his blows with her arms, scratching and biting. Then one of her kicking legs landed a knee hard in his groin. The fat, blubbery savage roared in pain and struck her hard on the chin with his fist.