Divine Deception (14 page)

Charles chuckled, wiping at the blood on his cheek, and said, “My dear niece, you’ve just assured my well-deserved wealth. You three,” he said, pointing to the three men who stood looking on. “Ya’ll be takin’ this along to Donavon.” He handed one of them the papers, including the one with the bloodstain. Wielding his knife once more, Charles added, “One more thing.” He cut a long strand of Fallon’s hair and handed it to the same man. “Tell the man to run his fingers through that!”

Fallon glared at the man called Simmons, remembering his foul breath as he licked her face in the store. “He’ll break you into pieces this time,” she threatened. “All of you.” She felt a small wave of triumph swell within her as the expressions on the face of each man momentarily changed to that of concern.

“
He can’t,” Charles stated. “If those boys don’t come back within the hour, you’re dead.” Standing and dusting off his trousers, he said to the man holding the papers, “Ride out there and tell him the terms. He’s to come alone. You two hold up somewhere and watch him. Pick off anyone who tries to follow him. He does what I say, and I’ll let her go. I will. Ya tell him that. It’s him I want.”

The man with the papers in hand nodded and mounted his horse. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he said, grinning repulsively at Fallon. “Then I can spend some time with you, girl.” He rode off at a confident gallop.



The hour seemed to go on forever. As Fallon waited, she wiped her wounded hand thoroughly on her clothing, then tore the ruffle from the hem of her nightdress and used it as a bandage. The sun rose higher in the sky, and Fallon wondered why the air felt differently in the presence of these vile men. Simmons and her uncle sat close to a small fire they had built, laughing and congratulating each other on their successful venture. As time passed slowly, Fallon sat on the hard ground, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her head on them as she waited. Her attention was arrested when their subject of conversation changed.

“
Ya ain’t meanin’ it, are you, Ashby?” Simmons asked. “Lettin’ her go, I mean. Ya promised me—”

“
What do ya think?” Charles interrupted. “I said ya could have her, didn’t I? Just as soon as Donavon is bleedin’ his life out on the ground, ya can do whatever ya want with the girl. But he has to think he’s got a chance at savin’ her purty little hide.”

“
Well,” Simmons began, “I want me a taste now. I’ll take me a taste and save the rest for later.”

Fallon looked to her uncle in astonished disbelief. “Uncle Charles,” she stammered, “surely…please…”

But the man she called uncle only looked at her, an evil smile spreading across his nauseating face. Looking to Simmons then, Charles said, “I see your point. Have your little taste of honey. But that’s all. Ya can have yer Thanksgivin’ feast when I’ve had Donavon’s blood.”

“
No!” Fallon screamed as both men began to chuckle, and Simmons walked to her, pulling her roughly to her feet.

“
Tie them hands up again,” Charles suggested, tossing a fresh length of rope to Simmons as Fallon began to beat his head and chest with her fists.

Simmons slapped Fallon soundly, causing a pause in her defense long enough for him to bind her wrists together once more. Then as he dragged her to a nearby tree, she began fighting him again until the back of his hand across her face sent her falling against the trunk.

“
Stand up!” he shouted as he pulled her to her feet and pushed her against the tree’s solid trunk. His last blow had finally weakened her, and she could only endure the horrid wrenching in her stomach as Simmons ran his soiled hands up her arms and along her shoulders. Fallon’s senses continued to twist violently as his head descended to the softness of her flesh, his slimy mouth kissing her neck. Then, as he had once before, he grabbed hold of her hair and yanked her head back, laughing lecherously, and Fallon’s eyes closed tightly as she felt him run his foul tongue the length of her cheek.

Tears of despair escaped her eyes as he began toying at her neck. When his mouth forced a repulsive, slobbering kiss on her mouth, her mind fought to hold on to the vision of Trader and the feel of his rapturous kisses. It was, of course, in vain, for the man before her was real flesh and blood, and Trader seemed a lovely, intangible dream.

The drumming of a horse’s hooves blessedly distracted Simmons, and he released his wicked hold on Fallon as he turned to watch the rider approach. It was the man Charles had sent to deliver the message to Trader. When he reached them and dismounted abruptly, Fallon was instantly aware his countenance had changed drastically. His hands trembled, and his face was void of color.

“
Did he agree?” Charles asked, approaching the man.

“
I ain’t stayin’ here, Ashby,” he firmly stated.

Charles grabbed hold of the man’s shirt, which was stained on the front with patches of drying blood, and growled, “Did he agree?”

“
He did,” came the answer. “And I ’spect he’ll be here straight away. But I won’t. I won’t have no more to do with that man!”

“
What are ya runnin’ from, boy?” Charles asked. “Ya scared of one man when there’s three of us?”

“
That man I am,” he confirmed. Charles released him, and he continued, “He near broke my neck, Ashby. Only thing that stopped him was knowin’ ya had the little missus there.”

Charles glared at Fallon as he spoke to the man. “What did he say?”

“
Well I rode up, and he came chargin’ out of the house like a bull gone mad. I shouted at him to keep his distance ’cause the girl would be hurt if I was. He kept acomin’ and pulled me from my own saddle. I warned him again, and I thought he had settled himself. Then he took hold of me by the neck and slammed my back up against the wall of his fancy house there. He asked me what we wanted. I handed him the papers and the hair. I couldn’t see his face, a course, as he looked at that paper with her blood on it. But I didn’t need to. I thought I was dead on that spot. He turned back toward me then, and I looked up into that black hood he wears and thought that was the end. He took me by the throat with one hand and lifted me clean off my feet, all the time holdin’ me against that wall. He said, ‘Where’d he cut her?’ And I told him on her hand. I reminded him I had to come back here or you’d kill her. Then he went to slamming his free fist against the wall, still holdin’ me off the ground. I ain’t never seen such strength in a man! His fist broke through them outer wallboards again and again and again, and all the time he was gruntin’ like some kind of wild animal! I ain’t waitin’ around here, Ashby. You’re a dead man either way, and that’s what I believe.”

“
He ain’t gonna turn on us. We got him by the tail,” Charles said, still glaring at his niece.

“
He put me down, let go of my neck, and took hold of my shirt here with the hand he’d been slammin’ against the wall. His knuckles were one big mass of chewed up flesh and blood, and he told me he would come. I’ve no doubt he will, but I won’t be here to see him,” the frightened man said, trying to mount his horse.

Fallon gasped as her uncle pulled a pistol from his hip and pointed it at the man. “You will be here. We’re all in this up to our necks. We were meant to be wealthy men, and this is how we’re gonna get our riches.”

Suddenly there came the drumming of a horse’s hooves approaching them. In the distance came a lone rider, black cloak beating the breeze around him as he rode.

“
Trader,” Fallon breathed. She could feel hope bursting within her. Something told her Trader would triumph yet. She thought of the powerful anger and frustration that would have to be within a man to allow his physical body to wreak such havoc on the wooden planks. She knew Trader cared for her. As her mind reviewed his actions toward her, especially in the past few days, she knew that perhaps love was too strong a term, but he did care for her.

“
We’ll finish this later,” Simmons mumbled, pulling Fallon toward her uncle then harshly pushing her to the ground.

Charles, distracted by the approaching rider, simply returned his pistol to its place at his hip, ignoring the frightened partner in crime, who mounted his horse and furiously rode off.

The black rider on a horse the color of night reined in before the men who held Fallon captive. The fierce-looking steed snorted heavily and savagely stomped his front legs on the ground.

“
I’m gonna send you to rot in hell, Ashby,” Trader growled, still on the back of the mighty animal.

“
Hold her, Simmons,” Charles ordered. Pulling Fallon to her feet, Simmons drew his knife and held it to her throat. “Dismount, Donavon,” Charles growled at Trader.

With an angry heaving in his chest, Trader jumped from his horse. “You move to harm me, and he’ll slit her throat.”

Fallon watched helplessly as Trader withdrew some papers from inside his shirt and tossed them on the ground at Charles’s feet. Charles bent confidently and picked up the papers. He began nodding as he inspected them.

“
My lands, my herds, everything,” Trader confirmed. “Let her go. If she isn’t home soon, you’ll be hunted men.”

“
Now
don’t get pushy here, Donavon. We ain’t done with our business yet,” Charles chuckled. “You’re gonna get what you well deserve.” Ceremoniously cracking his knuckles, Charles circled Trader. “Ya raise a finger to me, Donavon, and Simmons will cut Fallon for every move you make against me.”

“
No,” Fallon breathed as she saw Trader’s chest rise and fall with heavy, determined breaths. She helplessly screamed out as Charles delivered a terrible blow to Trader’s midsection. Though an exhale escaped him, Trader stood firm, straight, and impenetrable. Then, chuckling, Charles drew his gun from his hip, and taking it firmly by the barrel, he hit Trader violently on the back of the neck with the butt, causing Trader to crumple to the ground. Charles commenced kicking Trader about the rib cage and in the back, legs, and any other part of the powerful body that lay at his mercy.

“
No! Please! No!” Fallon cried, as sobbing wracked her body. She knew Trader would not raise a hand against her vile kin. He would not endanger her. She knew she must escape for his sake! Glancing up, she saw that Simmons’s attention was occupied by gloating in the beating taking place before him. With all her might, she threw her small body against Simmons. It was enough to knock him off balance for a moment and allow her to dash away. The rocks and nettle plants that lay scattered on the ground dug into her bare feet. She did not go far when she stumbled and fell. Simmons was on her instantly, pulling her to her feet.

“
Stand up there, girl!” he shouted. When Fallon looked to where Charles had been beating Trader, she saw her uncle lying on the ground writhing in pain, his arms drawn against his midsection. As Simmons pulled Fallon against him and held his knife to her throat, he also turned to face Trader. Seeing that Fallon was endangered once more, Trader stopped abruptly only inches from her.

“
Let her go,” he growled.

Simmons chuckled and shifted the knife in his hand so his grip was firmer as he now pointed it threateningly at Fallon’s bosom. “She’s dead, ya animal. Watch her die. And I had her last…remember that.”

As Simmons raised the knife, Trader easily grabbed his wrist in one hand. He yanked the man, wrenching him from Fallon and flinging him aside as if he were no more than bundle of feed.

Fallon watched as Simmons crumpled to the ground, looking up at Trader with an expression of disbelief on his ugly face. As he flopped onto his back, a bloody and fatal wound to his chest was revealed, inflicted when he had fallen on his own knife. He pointed a blood-stained finger at Trader before his body went limp, and he lay motionless on the ground.

From behind her, Fallon heard Charles say, “You’ll die too, Donavon.” Fallon quickly turned to see the man standing behind them, his pistol pointed directly into the shadows of the hood.

“
No,” Trader stated plainly a second before his fist brutally met with Charles’s jaw, knocking him to the ground. Taking Fallon’s wrist in hand, Trader held her wounded hand up and said, “But for this, you will!”

Lying on his back in the dirt, Charles still managed to retrieve his pistol and point it at Trader. Trader raised his foot. He planted his boot solidly on Charles’s gun hand, pinning it to the ground. Fallon winced at Charles Ashby’s screams of pain as Trader twisted his foot, crushing the man’s hand beneath it.

Trader retrieved the papers from Charles’s pocket. Then placing his hands around Charles’ throat, he began to squeeze.

“
Trader! No!” Ben shouted, reining in his horse. “Let him be. Let him hang.”

Fallon recognized the sheriff as he reined in beside Ben. “He will hang, Donavon. I promise ya that,” the man assured. “Along with the other one we picked up on our way here. My deputies have taken him back to town.”

The blackness of the hood turned to face Fallon. Trader released his grip on Charles, who fell to the ground, clutching his crushed hand to his chest.

“
Tie him, Ben,” Trader ordered.

“
Yes, sir,” Ben replied with an almost tangible intonation of respect in his voice.

“
I’ve seen enough men die in my life. Let the law deal with him,” Trader mumbled, turning to Fallon. Taking her still-bound hands, he reached down. Drawing a knife from his boot, he severed the rope that held them. He held her hands gently as he turned them over in his own, studying the chafing at her wrists. Removing the primitive bandage, he raised her injured hand to his face, and as it disappeared into the hood, Fallon felt the warmth of his kiss on the wound. He dropped her hands, and his attention focused on her face. Shyly, Fallon looked away until she felt his touch on her cheek.

“
I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion as he pulled her against him. “What…what else did he do to you?” he asked.

Fallon was astonished at the obvious emotion in his tone. Wanting desperately to reassure him of her well-being, she said, “Nothing.”

“
I saw you as I approached, Fallon. That man…Simmons. What did he do to you?”

“
You’re here now. You’ve come for me, as I never doubted you would. That’s all that matters now,” she whispered, as a tear traveled down her cheek.

She knew Trader sensed her need. As always, his ultimately powerful yet ever tender hands caressed her face, and Fallon melted against him.

“
Put it from your mind, Fallon,” he whispered, taking her chin in his hand and tilting her head back. “Let your mouth only remember mine.” And, as the familiar and beloved hood descended toward her, Fallon closed her eyes. A moment later she began to tremble within as her body and soul rejoiced, bathing in the wonderment of his delicious, coveted kiss.