Jessica Page 6

  “I don’t need much sleep.”

  Jessica couldn’t believe her eyes. Jake with the two women in tow sauntered over to a pile of blankets a few feet away from the fire, while the rest of them were herded into the wagon by Gabe.

  Once they were inside he left the canvas flap up, but brought up his bedroll so they would virtually have to tread on him to get out. She stayed as far away from the other girls as possible, given the wagon wasn’t very big.

  She didn’t want to get friendly with anyone, then feel bad by leaving them behind when she escaped. Travelling alone gave her the greatest chance of getting away. One girl might not be missed straight away, two or more would. How could her brain still function under these fearsome circumstances?

  Chapter Eight

  Three weeks passed. Jessica had become so jittery she jumped at the slightest sound. Fortunately for her, on their second night on the trail, Jake had sustained a painful injury to his male region. It rendered him incapable. He couldn’t even ride his horse. It had cost a girl her life, though. Before he helped himself to a woman he always removed his spurs. After he had forced himself on this girl, she had snatched up one of his spurs and stabbed him with it. He had rolled around screaming and cursing. Once he had recovered sufficiently he beat her up then shot her dead.

  Finally, after twenty-three days on the trail they stopped at an isolated cabin and were left to the administrations of a flashy looking middle-aged woman. She forced them to wash and change into revealing gowns and lace trimmed pantaloons.

  Jessica didn’t know how her breasts managed to stay inside the low-cut bodice. The woman was a retired Madame, who came to the cabin each time Jake brought in a shipment of women to dress them, and apply face make-up so they would be more attractive for the men who were going to buy their services. Her mouth dried up thinking about what she would have to endure if she couldn’t escape the clutches of these fiends.

  She couldn’t remember exactly what Jake had done to her that night at Scarlett’s place, except it hurt. Didn’t want to remember if truth be known. She now knew what men would expect of her after seeing Jake in action before he was injured, and it terrified her.

  Once they were seated on benches running along either side of the wagon, she watched in shock as their legs were chained to iron rings on the floor, making it impossible for them to jump out once they arrived in Lawson. Their bound wrists were cunningly concealed behind a black and red embroidered cloth that was wrapped around them, with a large gold bow in the middle, as if they were a giant parcel.

  Bitterness overwhelmed her. Fear ate at her like a ravenous dog. It was becoming harder to believe she would ever escape. To think of being betrayed by someone she had thought of as a friend, was soul destroying.

  Dressed in a garish, revealing gown, her face caked with make-up she looked like a whore, and after what Jake had done to her, she was one. If she had been able to throw herself under the wheels of the wagon she would have.

  ~*~

  After the bank robbers left the Lawson Bank, Ethan pushed up against the wall and after much grunting and a few muffled curses, managed to get to his feet. Jessica tried to do the same, and even if his hands hadn’t still been tied, he wouldn’t have helped her. He owed her nothing after what she had done. The quicker he got away from this town and her the better he would like it.

  He stumbled to the door of the bank and shouldered it open. Stepping out into the street he yelled. “The bank has been robbed.”

  A couple of passersby raced off hollering for the sheriff, another man untied his hands while his two companions rushed inside the bank to release the other hostages.

  Once she was set free, Ethan watched Jessica rubbing her wrists together. She must have been tied up so tightly the rope had almost cut off her circulation. Why should he care?

  The gal from the livery dashed toward him once her hands were freed.

  She darted past him and sprinted up the main street.

  The sheriff lumbered in, followed by Sol, the swarthy owner of the Raging Bull. The Bank Manager hurried up to them. “The bank has been robbed. Those filthy varmints cleaned us out,” he raged. “I demand you do something about it.”

  “Yes. Accosting law-a-biding citizens,” a pious looking woman shrilled. “That, that whore.” She glared at Jessica. “And that saddle tramp who sat next to her were probably in on it.”

  “We were not,” Jessica said.

  “Of course not,” Ethan snapped. “We were tied up like the rest of you.”

  “Calm down, Violet. I’ll get to the bottom of this, never fear.” The sheriff turned to Ethan. “Don’t leave town until I say so.” He scowled at Jessica. “Get back to the Raging Bull with the other whores.” He pushed her toward Sol.

  Sol grabbed Jessica’s hand in a vicious grip. “Little slut will pay for the trouble she’s given me. She’ll wish she’d never been born by the time I’m finished with her.” He dragged her toward the door.

  “Ethan, please help me. I don’t want to go with him.”

  “You heard the gal, she doesn’t want to go with you, so leave her alone you sonofabitch.”

  “Too bad. She’s mine, bought and paid for.”

  “No, she’s mine, for a few hours at least.” Ethan didn’t know why he was defending Jessica after what she had done to him, but somehow his conscience wouldn’t let him ignore her desperate plea.

  “I paid for a service I didn’t get. I want a refund of my money, then I’m leaving this Godforsaken, vermin infested town.”

  The other occupants still in the bank, gasped.

  “No refund,” Sol snarled.

  Ethan was tempted to punch him in the mouth. He detested bullying men.

  “Let him have what he paid for,” the sheriff said. “She can service him for an hour, which should relieve his itch.”

  A couple of men snickered while a middle-aged matron fanned herself with a lace handkerchief.

  “After ya have some fun with her, cowboy, vamoose, and don’t come back. Saddle tramps ain’t welcome in Lawson.”

  “Yeah? A couple of minutes ago you were telling me not to leave.”

  “I changed my mind. Ya got two hours to leave town.”

  “He didn’t do anything,” Jessica said, and received a slap across the face from Sol. He grabbed her by the hair and she yelped.

  “She’s wearing my coat.” Ethan’s hand hovered near the gun he had only just retrieved. He was tempted to draw it and fire.

  “Give the cowboy his coat.” The sheriff instructed, waving several interested bystanders away.

  Jessica removed the coat and the breath whistled between Ethan’s clenched teeth. No wonder she wanted his coat to wear. The top of her gown was so low he could see most of her creamy breasts.

  A shaft of heat shot to his groin, so burning in intensity he rocked back on his heels. What in tarnation was happening to him?

  Sol started dragging her toward the back of the bank.

  “Let me go.” She fought him every inch of the way.

  He grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the wall. “This ungrateful little whore will be lower than a dockside harlot by the time I’ve finished with her. In fact.” He shook her brutally. “I’ve got a good mind to sell ya to Delores, and ya can work in one of her two bit cribs servicing thirty men a day.”

  Jessica’s face was white and stricken, tears filled her eyes and flowed down her cheeks. Ethan couldn’t stand it a moment longer. He followed them into the back alleyway. “How much to buy her?”

  Sol’s weasel face lit up, his eyes grew cunning. “Fifty dollars.”

  “Forty.”

  “Forty-five, cowboy, that’s my last offer.”

  “Done.” Ethan counted out the money and handed it over. “Now get out of my sight.” He drew his gun and pointed it at Sol’s head. “Or I’ll put a bullet in you.”

  Sol scurried off muttering threats.

  Ethan’s eyes were drawn to Jessica’s breasts. He gnawed his lower lip. “Here, cover yourself.” He gave her back his coat.

  She put it on. “Thank you, Ethan. I can’t pay you back now, but I promise, one day I will.”

  “Cowboy!”

  He swung around and the gal from the livery came up the alley leading two horses, his and another nondescript looking nag.

  “I saw what happened. Get out of town fast, ya both will be dead if ya don’t.”

  “Thank you,” Jessica said.

  “How much for the horse?” Ethan asked.

  “Nothing. Some drifter left this horse with me a few weeks ago, got hisself killed, so he won’t be coming back for it. Saddle was his, too.”

  “Thanks, much obliged. Why are you doing this?” He helped Jessica mount.

  “Because I hate Sol, slimy sonofabitch. He tried to make me sell the livery to him after Pa died, even threatened to kill me if I didn’t. Sent a couple of men over to rough me up, didn’t count on me having Pa’s shotgun and knowing how to use it.” She turned and loped off.

  “I can’t ride,” Jessica said.

  Ethan dropped an oath. “You’ll have to learn, won’t you? For now, hang on to the pommel and I’ll lead.”

  Ethan galloped out of town dragging Jessica’s horse behind him. He would never set foot in Lawson again. Jessica might be a soiled dove, but he couldn’t leave her behind to face the wrath of the brutal saloon owner and his men. He would take her to a small town he knew of about thirty miles from Lawson. Would buy her a ticket on the coach to anywhere she wanted to go, then head for home.

  I’ll never leave Rainbow Valley again. He had his ranch and logging business. It would have to be enough. He was now resigned to remaining a bachelor, unless some unattached gals moved into town, which was unlikely.

  He slowed his horse down, hiding a grin when Jessica asked. “Are we stopping now?”

  He didn’t blame her for wanting to stop, she didn’t look comfortable slumped on the horse and clutching at the reins. She’d be as stiff as a board tomorrow.

  “Not yet, we need to put a few more miles between us and Lawson.”

  Fear bleached every bit of color from her face, leaving it ghostly. He turned his head away and stared straight ahead. He didn’t want to feel sorry for a gal who made a living out of selling her body to men. She looked so virginal, if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes he wouldn’t have believed she was a soiled dove.

  Sonofabitch, he was a fool when it came to women. He snuffed out his sympathy. No man wanted a whore for a wife, no matter how pretty she was. What was her story? She spoke well; he hadn’t heard even one cuss fall from her lips.

  You’re a hypocrite he suddenly thought. Castigating Jessica for making a living the way she did. After all he had visited such establishments in the past. It was necessary for a single man to eventually have to satisfy his pent up need at those places. Did women have such needs? Surely she’d get hitched if she did.

  They came to a creek, so he decided to stop to water the horses and have something to eat. He didn’t have much food in his saddlebags except an emergency supply he always carried when he traveled, coffee, beef jerky, beans, and some oats for his horse. Shared two ways it wouldn’t last more than a couple of days unless he could supplement it with wild game. Fortunately, he was an excellent shot with a rifle. Not as fast on the draw as he used to be, still much quicker than most men, though. He much preferred his rifle to the twin colts he always wore. In his younger days he had enjoyed riding shotgun on various stages, fortunately, those days were over. He preferred a quieter life now.

  “We’ll stop here and rest the horses and have something to eat.”

  The radiant smile she gave him almost knocked him out of the saddle. He dismounted and lifted her down. She hobbled over to a rock and slumped against it. After attending to the horses he handed her a stick of jerky.

  “That’s all we can have until I’m able to light a fire.”

  “Oh, I know how to light a fire. I’m a good cook, if you’ve got any flour, I could…”

  “We can’t light a fire in case we’re being followed, and I only carry what I can fit in my saddlebags.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t think. I’ve lived all my life in the city. This is the first time I’ve ridden a horse.”

  “Yeah, I can tell.”

  “Does it get easier?”

  He swallowed a mouth full of jerky before answering. “Yeah, you have to relax, let your body move with the motion of the horse.”

  “The woman you wanted to marry must have been a fool to let you go.”

  “She didn’t exactly let me go. I left her when I found out she’d tricked me.”

  Ethan had removed his hat and Jessica could see his hair was dark brown, curly and slightly long. His square cut jaw beneath the dark beard stubble had a determined thrust. This man was not to be trifled with. His deep blue eyes were almost navy. They were hard, cold and remote. What would it take to bring back the warmth?

  His hands were large, slightly callused, his nails neatly cut. He didn’t look wealthy, not poor, either. How he must despise her, believing her to be a thieving, lying whore.

  She desperately wanted to tell him she wasn’t any one of those things. Why would he believe her? Why did she care what he thought of her?

  Chapter Nine

  Midday on the second day of their journey, they were following the line of a river. It turned sharply and she saw a hill devoid of any trees. Enormous holes looked as if they had been gouged out of the dirt.

  “Gold mining,” Ethan answered her unspoken query.

  Suddenly, the earth shuddered beneath them, the horses stomped and danced nervously, and Jessica held on for dear life.

  Ethan grabbed hold of her reins and quieted the horses by patting their necks and making soft clucking noises. Dust rose up causing her to cough. Half the hillside had collapsed.

  “Stupid tenderfoot miners, they used too much dynamite,” he growled.

  “Do you think anyone got hurt?”

  “If they were in the path of that rock fall they’ll be dead.”

  She sniffed the air. “I can smell smoke.” Above the treetops a ribbon of smoke drifted skyward. “Someone must be living here. We need to check.”

  They passed through a stand of trees and saw a small shack. Washing flapped in the breeze, a man’s shirt, a woman’s petticoat and pantaloons, and children’s clothing.

  They dismounted. Ethan tethered the horse and Jessica darted toward the shack.

  “Careful. You don’t know what type of person calls this place home.”

  “A family by the look of the washing,” she said.

  A few yards from the doorway, which was covered by a piece of canvas she stopped to listen. “Was that a child’s cry?”

  “Quick, Ethan, I think there’s a baby in here.”

  He drew his gun before pushing aside the canvas. “No-one here.”

  The crying intensified. The room was sparsely furnished, a bed and a couple of wooden boxes. The kitchen dresser looked out of place in such primitive surroundings. A large pot and a couple of pans stood to the side of a rough stone chimney, as did a coffee pot.

  Frantically Jessica glanced around. She spied a wooden pen containing a small girl, and rushed over to the crying child. She looked to be about four, maybe five years old. She wore a blue shift and her hair was a mass of golden curls.

  “What sort of parents would leave a child locked up in that kind of contraption?” Ethan growled.

  Jessica untied the rope keeping the makeshift door closed, and the child launched herself at her. She picked the little girl up and gave her a cuddle. “What’s your name?”

  “Polly.” She wiped the tears away with her fingers.

  “Howdy, Polly, I’m Jessica and this is Ethan. It’s to keep her from wandering off, perhaps getting burnt on the stove when the mother is away.”

  The coffee pot is still hot,” Ethan said after touching it with his fingertips.

  “Where’s your Ma?”

  “Giving Pa his lunch.”

  “I’ve got a mighty bad feeling about this,” he said. “If they were anywhere near that rock fall, they’re ….”

  “Watch what you’re saving, no point upsetting the child until we know for certain.”

  “Wait here, I’ll see what I can find outside.” He strode off.

  “Where’s Ma?” The child looked at her with soulful, tear filled blue eyes.

  “Ethan will find her for you.”

  Carrying the child balanced on one hip, Jessica paced the floor. Why hadn’t he come back? Had he gone and left her? She hurried to the doorway and peered out.

  A couple of hundred yards away she saw Ethan bending over someone. He glanced up.

  “Bring a blanket and some water,” he yelled.

  Polly was getting heavy. She changed her to the other hip, snatched up a blanket from the bed and filled a bottle from the pail of water sitting on the dresser before hurrying outside.

  The little girl pulled and tugged at her hair, but she ignored the pain once she saw Ethan squatting beside a woman. She sprinted the last few yards and skidded to a halt. Dirt and grime covered the woman’s face and clothes. “Is she dead?”

  “Not yet.”

  “But…”

  “The blanket, give it to me. I’ll rig up something to keep the sun off her.”

  “I could help you get her into the house.”

  “She can’t be moved. Every bone in her body looks to be broken, including her back. I dug her out from a pile of rocks and dirt. She must have been on her way back, otherwise she’d be like her husband, buried under half a hillside.”

  “Oh, no! Can’t you do anything?”

  He shook his head.

  “Polly, where’s Polly?” The woman’s voice was feeble. “Where’s my baby?”

  “She’s here.” Jessica took the child over to her, and still holding her hand squatted next to the woman.

  “Ma. Ma. Are you sick?”

  Jessica guided the little girl’s hand across the mother’s cheek. “Would you like a drink of water?”