White Wind (31 page)

Tossing his ripped and torn hat to the ground, Willy stretched and scratched the top of his head, his hair matted with bits of dirt, leaves and twigs. “Ah, time to see how my prisoners are faring.”

In broad daylight, the precariously leaning old trading post had a sad, defeated air. Large gaps in the decaying log sides had allowed small animals to squeeze through. The once sturdy door hung limply to one side, propped open by a large rock. Time had taken its toll, allowing nature to reclaim what was once hers.

Inside, years of accumulated dirt, debris and animal matter hid the wooden floors. Leaves scattered from one side to the other with each breath of air that passed through the open door.

Sarah opened her eyes and surveyed her surroundings with forced detachment. Life had started here for her father and grandfather. Was life to end here for her?

She hugged her knees tight to her chest and lowered her head to rest on her knees. Her hands and feet ached with numbness from the constricting ropes binding them. She scooted back and pressed herself tightly into the corner, as if she could make herself invisible from Hank, who stood guard at the open doorway.

She ignored the silken spiderwebs, their tiny owners temporarily scared away. Wild-Flower sat across the room, bound securely to what was left of a sagging bed frame. She lifted her gaze to Wild-Flower’s, and once again admired the Indian girl’s bravery. Sarah tried to draw strength from her fearless stare, her unyielding pride, but looked away in shame. It was her fault Wild-Flower found herself in Willy’s evil clutches.

Lifting listless, haunted eyes to the shabby one-room shack, she searched fruitlessly for a way out, a weapon, anything. But she knew there was nothing. She’d searched every inch of the room countless times since Willy had dumped her and Wild-Flower in here.

No one would think to look here for her. Not many even knew of this old place. Leaning her head back, she caught a glimpse of blue sky peeking through gaping holes in the ceiling. Her thoughts wandered to Golden Eagle and the many questions buzzing in her head, leaving her dizzy as her emotions ranged from stark hopelessness to the belief that rescue was just around the corner.

Had Golden Eagle returned? Had his people discovered her missing? Were they even now searching for her? Had they even found Wild-Flower’s trail? And the hardest question that frightened her the most: How long could she hope for rescue before time ran out?

Sarah stole a glance at Hank, slouched over in front of the door, falling asleep. She couldn’t see the others.

Glancing once again at Wild-Flower, Sarah couldn’t read the girl’s stoic expression. Another wave of guilt and fear overrode her optimistic hope of rescue as a single tear escaped.

It could’ve been hours or just minutes when Sarah lifted her head. The sound of approaching footsteps had her sitting straight, watching the doorway warily.

Willy stood in the opening. “Out with you.” He nodded at Hank, thumb jerking over his shoulder to emphasize his command.

“Hey, Willy, when does we get one? I could take the squaw outside,” Hank eagerly offered, eyes traveling over the Indian girl who remained silent, her stony gaze unwavering.

Willy slapped Hank on the back and grinned as he too looked his fill, tongue snaking out to lick his lips. “All in good time, ma boy. Thinks I’ll be the first white man to
teach her a thing ’bout lovin’. But don’t you worry none. I’ll break her in real good for you guys. Now get.”

As Sarah watched, Hank left, rubbing his hands in anticipation, and Willy advanced into the small room and towered over Wild-Flower, letting his eyes rove over her enticing curves.

Knees cracking and protesting, Willy bent over, grabbed Wild-Flower’s chin and grinned at the burning hatred smoldering in her eyes. “I think you’s gonna be a real wild one. Mebe I’ll have you first. We’ll let Sarah over there watch, and show her what she’s been missin’ all this time.” His head turned as he spoke, staring hard at Sarah.

Grinning, he added, “I hoped there’s still some fight left in you she-cats. I like my women with lots of fight in them. They all fight me at first, then they gets all scared. That’s when I show ’em who’s boss.” Willy eyed Sarah over his shoulder. “Just like them two squaws I had. They was real feisty. They fought me real good, but it didn’t do them no good. They learned what it means to fear me. Just like you two bitches will.”

Willy stood, grabbed the one remaining chair and pulled it around to sit between the girls at an angle so he could look at first one, then the other. His beefy arms rested across the broken chair back and his legs stretched out.

Sarah kept her eyes trained on Willy as he sat and stared at them, beady eyes shifting from one to the other as if he couldn’t make up his mind which one to torment first. She knew he was trying to unnerve them and feed their fear. That he was succeeding and knew it made him worse.

Willy’s eyes hungrily settled on Sarah, and she swallowed hard as his hand lowered to his lap, stroking himself in anticipation. “Ah, dear Sarah. I hope you were able to rest. I’s got great plans for us. Such a pity we’ve never really gotten to know each other. Seems I waited too long. But no matter. By the time I’m done with you, we’ll know each other intimately.”

Sarah cringed, his cruel laughter jarring her sensitive nerves. She didn’t dare close her eyes. Instead, she reached deep within herself, struggling with her fear. She thought of her unborn baby and anger grew, giving her the courage she needed. If she were to die, she’d not cower and beg. “You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you. What do you wanna bet that by nightfall you’ll have an arrow piercing your black, wicked heart? Do you really think you can outsmart the warriors of Golden Eagle’s tribe?” she asked scornfully, forcing the trembling fear from her voice.

“Golden Eagle, eh.” Willy’s lips twisted into a sneer as he glared at her attire. “Ya know, ’cept for this hair—” he leaned over and tugged cruelly “—you could pass for one of them savages. Is this Golden Eagle your lover?” he asked, hands clenching into large fists as he watched her head lift proudly.

“Golden Eagle is to be my husband,” Sarah stated with pride. “If you were smart, you would leave and run. It’s the only way to save your worthless hide.”

Willy’s lower lip dropped as he gave a shout of laughter, one hand slapping his knee. “Yore what? Ya mean ta tell me, girl, you was gonna marry one of them redskins?” A hard glitter crept across his face. “Like mother, like daughter, huh?”

Harsh laughter bounced off the walls of the shack. “So, I won’t be your first lover, eh, Sarah. Ah, well, that’s all right. I’ll just have ta show you what it means to have a real man love you, not some fumbling Injun. And if you thinks your Indian lover will save you, forget it. We made real sure we wouldn’t be followed this time.”

Sarah lifted her chin and scoffed. “Your brand of loving is nothing more than the rutting of pigs. You know nothing of love, Willy. You’re selfish and evil.”

Sitting helpless before the crazed man, Sarah felt driven to wipe the smug look from his hateful face. “If that old man you called your guide was so sure he’d left no trail that could be followed, why did he not stay with you? The others are so eager for your planned entertainment, they’d do anything for you. Why not him? Why wouldn’t he stay if he felt it was so safe?” Sarah stopped to let her words take effect.

Willy flushed angrily at her scorn. Unwittingly, Sarah’s words hit home. “He was too tired. Said he wanted to get back.”

“If the old man was so tired, why didn’t he stay and sleep as you all did? Hank was the only one who stayed awake, and even he fell asleep. I think your guide decided it was too dangerous to stay. He’s probably miles from here. And why did he leave without getting any of the money you promised? The others are waiting for their cut. He’s going to be laughing at all of you as he sleeps tonight because he’ll be alive and you’ll all be in hell.”

Willy’s eyes narrowed as he looked to the open doorway. Sarah’s words brought a worried frown to his eyes. Sarah continued to goad him. “I think he knew there was no way he could hide your trail. He could only make the following harder to buy him time to escape with his worthless hide free of arrows.”

Sarah knew she was pushing Willy to a dangerous point, but she couldn’t sit and let him terrorize her. She’d rather he get mad and kill her outright than go through what he had in mind for her.

Willy’s temper snapped. In a flash the chair flew over her head, slammed into the weak and rotting wall and shattered into a thousand slivers. Startled at the sudden violent movement, instinctively she cringed and buried her head against her knees as what was left of the chair pelted her.

She tried to scoot away as Willy grabbed a fistful of her dress front and yanked her to her feet, holding his knife point to her pulsing throat.

Sarah closed her eyes as the tip of the blade pierced her skin, a bead of red appearing. She prayed for a quick death, while regret for what could have been pierced her heart, the pain sharper than any wound the knife could inflict.

Willy’s stale breath fanned her cheeks as he snarled, “You’d like me to use this right now, wouldn’t ya?”

Sarah’s limbs went weak with relief when the blade fell away. Suddenly the rope around her ankles gave way and fell to the ground.

As he sliced the bounds around her wrists, Willy mockingly informed her, “Sorry to disappoint you, sweetie. Won’t work. You’ll die, all right. But only when I’ve had enough of you.” Willy lowered his lips to Sarah’s exposed neck. She jerked her head away, unable to look upon his deranged twisted features, as she struggled ineffectively against his strong hold.

“Fight me.” Willy grabbed Sarah’s hand and forced her to feel his throbbing flesh.

“See what yer doin’ to me? I’m all hot and hard for you.” Willy grinned.

Sarah screamed and kicked as she was shoved to the floor, Willy falling on her as she struggled to fight him off.

Her hands were held above her head as Willy rose to sit above her, grinding his pelvis into her soft contours.

“Tell me again about your lover coming to save you, bitch,” Willy taunted her before lowering himself over her, sealing his hips on hers.

Sarah saw her chance and raised her right knee, jamming it hard into Willy’s crotch. A roar of pain and outrage thundered in the air as she twisted away, unbalancing Willy, who was still groaning from the blow she’d delivered. Crawling, her breath coming in frightened gasps, she ducked her head as curses rang from above her, dropping like hailstones upon her ears.

The air left her lungs in one sobbing whoosh as Willy’s full weight crashed down upon her, his labored breathing harsh with pain. “So, ya wants it rough, huh. I’ll teach ya to mess with me.” His fingers tangled in her hair as he jerked her head back, and his other hand slid up her thigh, shoving her buckskin dress out of his way.

Sarah let loose a piercing scream and struggled for her life.

Silent figures crept closer toward the run-down shack. As each one received his silent orders, he slid into position. With a nod from Golden Eagle, two warriors slipped away to approach the last two whites outside. One lay sleeping, while the other rummaged through saddle packs strewn across the ground next to the exhausted horses. The first white had met his end in the woods, and after these two were taken care of, there was just one left—Willy.

Slowly, bows were lifted, arrows notched and arms drawn back, muscles bulging against the taut pull of bowstring. The warriors took aim. The swift-flying arrows found their marks. Red toppled over with a started jerk, a gurgling choking coming from gasping lips, then silence. Tom never awakened.

The horses shied and pulled at their tethered reins, uneasy with the smell of blood and death. Quickly, two warriors approached and led the three horses away before those in the cabin became alerted to their presence.

Golden Eagle looked around and nodded, satisfied that all but Sarah’s guardian had been killed, and turned his attention to the small wooden building. In the midst of plan-making with Chief White Cloud and Ben, he froze as a piercing scream tore through the air, raising the hairs on his neck as his heart jumped to his throat, pounding with fear. He turned toward the others. “We cannot wait for the white to come out. We go in.”

Ben held out his arm, staying Golden Eagle. “I know what you’re feeling, son. But ya can’t let desperation rule now. If you go stormin’ in there, the girls will get hurt. You don’t corner a mountain cat without risking injury,” Ben cautioned Golden Eagle.

Chief Hawk Eyes stepped forward. “We will force the white man out.” Golden Eagle listened intently as Hawk Eyes explained what they would do. He never took his eyes from the wooden shack that separated him from Sarah, his White Wind. His gut wrenched with each cry and his eyes became coals of heated anger, ready to burst into flames with each sound of struggle that reached them.

White Cloud and Golden Eagle nodded their agreement to Hawk Eyes’s clever plan. Golden Eagle positioned his warriors and raised his hand high, ready to give the command when all was ready. He looked over at a small group of warriors and Ben as they huddled in a group, coaxing sparks into flames.

Sarah lay gasping for breath, both from her struggles and from the full weight of Willy sprawled on top of her. The fight suddenly left her. Her limbs went limp. She forced bitter saliva past her throat, now raw from her useless screams. Her eyes closed, unable to witness Willy’s triumph. As her strength ebbed, hope left her as well. There was nothing and no one to save her now.

Willy laughed, his labored breathing fanning her face. Sarah didn’t even have the strength to turn from his foul breath. From deep within, her mind struggled against all odds, still seeking for a way to escape. Her eyes opened. She would have grinned as Willy swiped the blood from his nose and lips, results of two blows she’d managed to land, but her lips were too swollen, cracked and bleeding as well.

Willy’s evil grin distorted his swollen face grotesquely. So sure was he of victory, he released her arms and buried his fingers in her hair. “What’s the matter, sweetie? Hope yer not too tired.” His hands and eyes roamed her body, in no hurry to quickly take what he wanted.

Sarah caught sight of Wild-Flower from the corner of her eye. The Indian girl sat absolutely still, head tipped to one side as if listening. Her lids fluttered shut, brows wrinkling as she tried to concentrate on any strange noise coming from outside. But the only sound she heard was Willy’s harsh breathing. Outside, all seemed silent. Sarah’s glance flew to the roof. Earlier, her nerves had been so raw and sensitive to each and every sound that noise from birds and squirrels on the roof had nearly driven her crazy. Where had they gone?

Suddenly, several thuds on the roof had all eyes looking upward, watching, waiting. A strange crackling noise filtered down to Sarah. She held her breath with renewed hope. Soft and faint at first, the crackling grew louder with each passing second. Sarah’s nostrils flared as the smell of burning wood wafted downward. Curses spewed forth as Willy jumped to his feet and hauled her up.

Willy grabbed his gun from the holster hanging by the door. “Don’t move or yore as good as dead,” he hissed near her ear. With one arm wrapped around Sarah’s neck, his other hand held the gun to her temple. “Move real slow like. Don’t try nothin’,” he warned, forcing her to the doorway.

Sarah’s heart pounded as Willy pushed her to the doorway of the now-burning building. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Wild-Flower’s frightened look as she struggled to free herself. Sarah bit her lip, tears coursing down her cheeks. There was nothing she could do to save her friend.

“Stop right here,” Willy ordered, peering out the door. Stillness greeted them.

“They’s out there. I can feel them savages,” he whispered. His eyes searched, but there was no movement. “Damn,” Willy cursed, spying Red and Tom dead, arrows piercing their backs. “The horses are gone too,” he choked.

Keeping the gun at Sarah’s temple, Willy slowly inched out into the open, eyes shifting nervously as he had no choice but to escape the building’s heat and blanketing smoke.

Stopping a few feet from the blazing building, Willy yelled, “Stay away or the girl dies.” To emphasize his words, he shoved the gun hard into Sarah’s temple and cocked the weapon, eliciting a cry of pain and fear from Sarah.

Willy’s eyes grew round and fearful as mounted warriors left the concealing cover of trees and prevented any escape. He broke out in a cold sweat.

“Let the girls go, Willy. You can’t escape now,” Ben yelled out, stepping forward, rifle held in the crook of his arm.

Willy’s eyes widened when he recognized Ben and Jacob standing shoulder to shoulder with the Indians. His eyes shifted wildly as he took in the number of arrows poised and ready to fly at him. He’d become a damn pincushion, he thought to himself, searching his brain for a way out of the situation.

A desperate gleam came into his eyes as he kept a tight hold on Sarah, using her as a shield as he struggled to keep an eye on Indians surrounding him on three sides. “Nothin’ doin’, Ben. If an arrow hits me, I’ll have time to pull the trigger. Keep ’em away, Ben. Get them Injuns where I can see them. Now!” he screamed in desperation.

Golden Eagle motioned all warriors back and they joined him, forming a large half circle in front of Willy but leaving Willy’s back clear. No one noticed Red Fox slipping behind the flame-engulfed structure.

Willy glanced around, satisfied that the only threat came in front of him. “Get me a horse, Ben, and you’d better make sure I ain’t followed or them savages try somethin’. This half-breed’s my safe passage outta here. I may die, but so will she. You can’t guarantee Sarah won’t get hit by a stray bullet or arrow, Ben. If she dies, it’ll be your fault,” he shouted wildly, moving farther from the burning shack as large pieces of the rotting roof fell around him and flames claimed the building.

Behind Willy, spirals of black smoke drifted upward and orange flames danced across the needle-covered logs, dropping down through the rotted openings to spread inside.

Golden Eagle whispered to Ben and stepped forward, slowly leading his snorting and prancing stallion. “That’s close enough, Injun. Leave it and back off,” Willy demanded, his eyes never leaving the warrior before him.

Golden Eagle dropped the lead rope with a softly spoken command that only the horse heard, but all, including Willy, saw Golden Eagle’s ebony eyes narrow with hatred and his jaw clench, which his warriors knew warned of great anger.

Willy inched forward toward the wild-eyed stallion. Harsh laughter rang in Sarah’s ears. “That wouldn’t be lover boy, now would it?” Willy jeered, and stepped closer to the sidestepping horse. “Too bad you’ll never see him again,” Willy taunted, longing to put a bullet through the hated redskin. But it was too risky. Soon they would all pay. Sarah’s death would be his revenge.

Willy edged closer, reaching the snorting beast, using the animal as a shield to block the arrows aimed at him. Keeping the gun at Sarah’s temple, he told her, “Reach out slow like and grab the rope. Any sudden moves and it’s all over for you.”

Sarah blinked the tears from her eyes and reached for the rope dangling in front of her. “Good. Now, give it to me,” Willy ordered, the smell and taste of freedom within his reach. He planned to lead the horse into the woods behind him and, with Sarah, make his escape. Willy latched on to the rope and slowly started backing away.

Before he took two steps, a piercing whistle broke the tense stillness, startling Willy as the stallion reared up, flailing his front hooves at Willy, snorting loudly. Willy lost his grip on the rope and stumbled backward.

Sarah took advantage of Willy’s loosened grip to twist out of his arms and fling herself to the ground, rolling several feet forward.

Warriors took aim, but the path to their target remained blocked as Sarah jumped to her feet, ready to flee for freedom. The sound of laughter behind her had Sarah frozen with fear as she turned and stared at the gun trained on her heart. Golden Eagle lunged forward, desperate to get Sarah out of firing range. Golden Eagle raced around his horse shouting, “White Wind, down!”

Willy’s eyes glowed eerily, and a high-pitched cackle rose from his throat. Willy knew death was upon him. His hand lifted, the gun aimed straight at Golden Eagle’s heart instead. “What better way to get my revenge than to kill the one you love, eh, Sarah?”

“No!” The scream tore from Sarah’s throat. With a strength born of love and desperation, Sarah lunged, flying at Willy at the same time his finger squeezed the trigger.

The sudden blast of gunfire momentarily paralyzed white men whose rifles were clutched tightly in their hands and warriors who stood ready, faces grim, muscles pulled taut as their arrows were notched and ready to fly.

Sarah felt herself falling. How strange, she thought, the ground seemed to be rising slowly to meet her, and without feeling the impact, she suddenly found herself lying on her side, stunned, as a strange lethargy invaded her body.

She was unaware of Golden Eagle dropping down on top of her, covering her body with his as arrows flew overhead with deadly accuracy. She didn’t see Willy fly backward under the assault of dozens of arrows that pierced his heart. And she would later be thankful that she’d not seen the evil grin that, even as death claimed him, he still wore.

The sounds of yelling and shouting faded as blessed numbing began to take hold, diminishing the searing pain that radiated from her shoulder. Blackness descended, and her eyelids fluttered and slowly closed as she slipped into oblivion.