Bound For Eden (34 page)

One of Silas's hands self-consciously rose to brush the ugly raw slashes across his face. ‘Gideon happened,' he said grimly.

Alex gaped. ‘He did that to you? His own brother?'

Silas gave her a hard look. ‘He said it would remind me.'

‘Of what?' Alex asked cautiously, struggling to get to her feet. Silas Grady was almost the last person on earth she wanted to be alone with, second only to his crazy brother.

Silas gave a sharp bark of laughter. ‘Have a look more closely. What do you see?'

Nervously, Alex examined his cuts, which were only just beginning to scab over. Her eyes widened in horror and the hair on the nape of her neck stood on end. The slashes formed a crude letter A.

‘He said you owned me, so I might as well bear the mark of a slave.'

Alex flushed.

‘He followed me that day at the river,' Silas said bitterly, ‘he heard every word.'

‘I'm sorry,' Alex breathed.

Silas shook his head. ‘Don't you see? If you'd come with me he would have killed us both.'

‘Where's my sister, Silas?' Alex was alarmed by his talk of murder.

Silas looked confused.

‘Victoria,' Alex pleaded, ‘please tell me she's alright, please tell me he hasn't killed her.'

His expression cleared and an odd smile played around the corners of his disfigured mouth. ‘Haven't you figured it out yet? No-one has your sister.'

‘But the note, her yellow dress . . .'

‘I had to get you away,' Silas told her, sounding proud of himself. ‘He was coming for you. He would have killed you. After he . . .' he trailed off significantly, a black scowl darkening his face. ‘You're mine, Alex. I'll kill any man who touches you.'

‘You bastard,' Alex gasped. ‘What do you think he'll do to them when he finds me gone?'

Silas shrugged.

Alex grabbed a rock and hurled it at him. It smashed him in the mouth and he gave a yell, which echoed across the valley and off the low hills nearby. ‘And to think I actually felt sympathy for you,' she spat.

‘I don't want your pity,' he shouted, outraged.

‘You won't even get that!' Alex shouted right back at him. ‘You have nothing but my contempt.'

He came after her. She tried to run, but he was too quick for her. He tackled her to the hard ground, his knee forcing her legs apart and his hot breath hitting her in the face.

He looked down into her furious gray eyes, feeling her writhing beneath him, and he lost control. Ignoring the pain in his ruined lips, his mouth assaulted hers. Alex screamed into his kiss and tried to claw at him, but he'd caught her wrists.

Alex's rage dissolved into blind terror as his knee rammed into her. Oh hell, she was alone out here in the wilderness with this savage. She began to panic when he clasped both of her of wrists in one hand, freeing his other to tear at her clothing. The bib of her overalls tore. The buttons popped free of her shirt, and then his hand was ripping at the bandages binding her. When she felt his hand close around her bare breast she snapped, and bit down hard on his tongue.

He screamed, blood pouring down his chin, but he didn't loosen his grip. He'd dreamed of this moment for too long to relinquish it.

Alex fought like a wildcat but, despite her best efforts, she was soon half naked and in danger of losing the battle. And then she heard a whistle. Silas went rigid and screamed even louder than he had when she'd bitten him.

There was another whistle. Silas scrambled off her and as he fled Alex saw two arrows sticking out him, one in each buttock. As he ran there was another whistle and, with a meaty thud, a wicked looking arrow, bristling with stiff white feathers, lodged in his shoulder. He went down, shrieking.

In shock, Alex turned to see a dark silhouette looming above them near the base of the jutting rock. As she watched, it slunk down the steep rock, silent and graceful. It was an Indian man. Alex felt a stab of fear. She'd never been so close to an Indian before in her life. And this one was terrifying.

He was broad across the shoulders and chest, a fact emphasised by the fringing on his long buckskin shirt. His jet-black hair fell well past his shoulders and was decorated with a single black-tipped feather. His face was angular and cruel. But it was his eyes that really struck fear into Alex. They were so pale they were almost colourless, and were piercing like the eyes of a wolf. They seemed devoid of human emotion.

But then, as he stared down at her, she thought she saw a twinkle.

‘I have been watching you all morning,' he said in perfect, unaccented English. ‘I thought you were a boy.' His gaze dropped to the lush curves of her breasts, which she was struggling to hide with her hands. ‘I was wrong.'

She scowled at him, not appreciating his dry humour.

In one smooth movement, the Indian pulled his buckskin shirt over his head. He dropped it across Alex's lap. ‘I don't think yours will do you much good any more.'

If she had never seen Luke Slater she would have thought that this man was perfect. His body was all long muscle, burnished by the sun. She tore her gaze away and struggled into his shirt. She was surprised at the suppleness of the leather, it felt like velvet against her bare skin. On her the shirt fell to her shins, becoming more of a dress. Thank heavens it fell straight, and didn't cling to her curves. The last thing she needed was everyone in camp seeing she was a girl. Or Luke realising that she wasn't a child.

As she dressed, the Indian strode to where Silas lay whimpering in the dust. He gave a high whistle and after a moment a horse and pony came trotting around from behind the base of Chimney Rock. Alex watched as the Indian trussed Silas up and tossed him over the back of the pony. Then he tied Silas's roan to the pony's harness.

‘Where are you taking him?' Alex asked warily.

‘That depends,' the Indian replied.

‘On what?'

‘On where I am taking you.'

‘You don't have to take me anywhere,' Alex said nervously, ‘I mean, thank you, it's a very kind offer, but I'll be just fine walking back by myself.'

One elegant black eyebrow rose as he regarded her dubiously.

‘And thank you so much for the shirt,' she blathered on, beginning to back away. ‘I'd really best be off now, everybody must be dreadfully worried about me.' And, truth be told, she was dreadfully worried about them. What if Gideon had shown up while she was gone?

With a polite smile, she bid the Indian farewell, trying not to think about what he'd do to Silas, and headed back the way she'd come. Only . . . she couldn't exactly remember which way that was. The sun had come up on her left. Hadn't it? Or had it been directly in front of her? Oh glory, she'd been too distracted to pay attention.

She heard hoofbeats and the jangle of a bit. The shadow of the Indian fell across her. ‘You came from that direction,' he told her calmly, gesturing.

‘Thank you.' Alex set off. She'd forgotten how sore her muscles were. And now she had the extra discomfort of the bruises she'd received when Silas had tackled her to the ground. She was aware of the Indian riding slowly at her side. She was also aware of Silas glaring at her from where he hung upside down over the pony.

‘I would be more than happy to take you where you're going,' the Indian said.

‘I couldn't put you out,' she insisted firmly. There was no way she was getting up in the saddle with such an intimidating man. He might be as much of a maniac as Gideon was, for all she knew.

‘You're very stubborn,' he observed. And then he scooped her up and deposited her in the saddle in front of him, as though she weighed no more than a feather. She grabbed for the pommel. She was getting mighty sick of the way these men kept hauling her about like a bale of hay.

‘I don't even know your name,' Alex said tightly.

‘Is that what's bothering you?' She thought she could detect a note of amusement in that cool voice. ‘That we haven't been formally introduced?'

Formally introduced. It was the last thing she expected an Indian to say. Where had he learned his English?

‘My name is Rides With Death,' he introduced himself. ‘And may I say it's been a pleasure, Miss . . .?'

‘Barratt,' Alex said, too shocked to lie about her name.
Rides With Death?
Oh Lord, he
was
some kind of maniac.

‘But let's not stand on ceremony. Please feel free to call me Nathaniel.'

Now she was sure she heard amusement. ‘Nathaniel?' she giggled, relaxing. So that Rides With Death thing had been a joke?

‘My friends call me Nate.'

‘Nice to meet you, Nate,' Alex said graciously. ‘You can call me Alex.'

‘Ah no, you are too lovely to be an Alex.'

‘How can you tell when I'm wearing all this dirt?' she scolded, tilting her head to look up at him.

His gaze dropped significantly to her chest, now covered by his buckskin shirt, and she blushed. ‘A little dirt cannot hide such loveliness.'

‘My full name's Alexandra,' she said shyly, looking away.

‘Now that is a lovely name for a lovely woman.'

Silas grunted and they both turned to look at him. He visibly wilted under the Indian's cold stare.

‘What kind of Indian are you?' Alex asked conversationally as they crossed the plain. ‘If you don't mind me asking?'

‘Arapaho. Mostly. And such a beautiful woman can ask me anything.'

She blushed again. The man was almost as much of a flirt as Luke. Luke. She wondered if he was worried about her. She wondered what he'd think when she rode into camp in front of an Indian. Would he be shocked? Would he draw his gun on the poor man? ‘Maybe you should leave me just outside the camp,' Alex said nervously as the wagons came into view. The Indian ignored her, threading his way between the wagons and straight into the centre of the camp.

Alex almost fell off the horse. There, trussed up like turkeys, were the other Grady brothers.

‘Well, I'll be damned,' Luke's voice drawled, snatching her attention away from the Gradys. He was lounging against her wagon, looking for all the world like her tormentors weren't disarmed and helpless right in front of him. And there beside him, munching happily on a bucketful of oats while Adam fussed over him, was Blackie Junior, looking none the worse for wear for his little adventure. And next to Blackie was Luke's missing mare, Isis. ‘It's been a long time, Deathrider,' Luke greeted the Indian.

This time Alex did fall off the horse. Well, it wasn't so much a fall as a tumble, as she scrambled down as fast as she could. ‘I thought you said your name was Nathaniel!' she accused the Indian.

Luke laughed. ‘That's one of his names.'

‘How many do you have?'

‘Aside from Nate?' The Indian slid gracefully from the horse. ‘I told you I was also called Rides With Death.'

‘And don't forget Angel of Death,' Luke added. ‘And Plague of the West.'

‘That last one was made up for the dime novel,' the Indian said in disgust. ‘That Archer fool keeps writing stories about me. Let's just say his grip on reality is rather tenuous. It causes me no end of misery.'

‘I see we should add Varmint Catcher to the list,' Luke said appreciatively, approaching Silas. He gave the man a cheerful slap on the cheek. ‘What happened to your face, Grady?'

Alex blanched, hoping he wouldn't notice the A carved into Silas's flesh. No such luck. He leaned in for a closer look, his brow furrowing. ‘Gideon tried to carve a V on him,' she blurted. ‘For Victoria. He said Silas was owned by Victoria and ought to show the mark of a slave. Because he tried to help us.' She was mighty glad Silas was gagged, because he was giving her a strange look. So was the Indian. She gave him a pleading glance.

‘It doesn't look like a V,' Luke remarked.

‘Gideon slipped,' Alex invented swiftly. ‘See there,' she crossed to join Luke, and jabbed at the slashes. ‘It's an almost perfect V, and then he slipped and joined it together.'

‘Like an A.'

‘Is it?' Alex said blithely. ‘I hadn't noticed. He must have been doing it upside down.' She knew she sounded witless and cast about for a means of distracting him. ‘What on earth happened here?'

‘Nothing you need worry about, brat. Why are you wearing Deathrider's shirt?' He looked back and forth between them, his brows drawing together again.

‘Would you stop calling him that!' Alex snapped.

‘It's his name.'

‘No,' Alex corrected firmly, ‘his name is Nathaniel.'

‘Well, maybe Nathaniel can tell me why you're wearing his shirt?'

‘Hers was torn.' Deathrider spoke in a low voice, so no-one but Luke and Alex could hear.

Luke's eyes narrowed. ‘Torn?'

Alex threw the Indian another pleading look.

‘In the fight.'

She glared at him.

‘What fight?' Luke demanded.

‘That one attacked her.'

If looks could have killed, the Indian would have been dead on the spot.

‘Her? You know she's a girl?' Luke's voice dropped to a fierce whisper.

‘It was kind of hard to miss once her shirt was gone,' Deathrider said dryly.

Luke turned a speculative gaze on Alex. Unconsciously, she crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Aren't you going to tie Silas up with the rest of them?' she asked Luke imperiously. The minute his back was turned she kicked the Indian in the shins. He didn't so much as flinch.

‘Why do you kick me?' he asked in a voice too low for Luke to hear. ‘Slater already knew you were female.'

‘He thinks I'm a child,' she hissed.

Once again the Indian's gaze dropped to her chest. She couldn't resist kicking him again.

‘I wouldn't do that if I were you, brat,' Luke warned, turning in time to catch the latest kick. ‘There's a reason he's called Rides With Death.'