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“How would we fasten the logs together?”

Brady looked around, his gaze catching on Bab and then skipping away. Cara looked at the Savage also. She wanted the female gone. Every time she looked at Bab, the image of the bitch on top of Brady rose again in her mind. Hot desire to kill the Savage would tighten her muscles. If not for the innocent baby in Bab’s arms, Cara would have already killed her. Not matter how near to human Bab appeared, her upbringing was that of an animal. Perhaps her behaviors were even engrained in her nature.

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When Brady had taken his turn at sleep right before dawn, he’d woken three different times from a nightmare. Cara understood his demons more than most people might. The best thing to ease his mind would be to get away from this place and back home among their own kind.

“We’ll see if we can find some vines. But it might take us a while.”

“Let’s get started then. The quicker we get out of here, the better we’ll both sleep.”

They headed to the beach and made Bab walk in front of them. Cara kept her hand on the hilt of her sword at all times. The Savage had proven how quick and powerful she was. If she attacked Brady again, they would have to kill her.

The debris pile smelled worse than the previous day, and it took them more than an hour to find three pieces of driftwood Brady was satisfied would work.

Bab settled Angel into a clever sling that allowed the Savage to have her hands free with her child secured against her chest. She dragged one piece of wood for them.

The wood Brady selected was gray with age and the work of the sea. The logs were light and should float easily. But even laid side by side, they weren’t as wide as the reach of Cara’s arm. Dread filled her at the prospect of trusting such a primitive craft in the deep river.

It was late afternoon before they returned to their camp. They gathered some wood and then dug up the few remaining yams from the small patch Cara had found the day before. Brady took out his fishing line, and Cara went to work scrubbing the tubers. Bab shyly offered to help, and Cara let her. The more occupied the female, the less time she had to stare at Brady. This time she didn’t slice them, but set them close to the fire to bake.

It wasn’t too long until Brady had four fish that were nearly twice the size of his hand.

He moved downstream to clean them and then used his knife to cut a fresh branch. He ran the stick through the fish’s gills and set them above the low flames.

“Do you eat meat, Bab?” It was the first time he’d spoke to the Savage all day.

Bab looked at him with shy adoration in her dark eyes. It made Cara ill.

“We do in hard times. At the end of the last cold time, we ran out of food before the berries and roots were ready to eat.”

“We eat it all the time,” Cara said, but Bab ignored her.

They ate mostly in silence after that. Much as she didn’t want Bab ogling Brady, she ordered him to take his shirt off as she might check his wounds for infection. They looked clean but the bite on his shoulder might leave a scar. A quick glance confirmed Bab’s unabated interest in Brady’s naked torso.

“In the morning, we’ll drag the wood to where we want to put in the water,” Brady said after pulling his shirt back on over his head. “We’ll move our camp there and find some vines. I think there’s some wild grapes growing near the falls that might be pliable enough and strong enough to serve our needs.”

They took turns at watch again through the night. Angel woke to be fed once but other than that, the dark passed in peace. Brady again woke from dark dreams when it was his turn to sleep. She didn’t ask him about them, and one of her own nightmares revisited her when she slept. Except this time in her dream, she wasn’t alone in the Savage camp. Brady was prisoner alongside her, beaten and sexually abused by an entire tribe of Savage females. She woke in a sweat and watched her man as he sat silently nearby with his gun in his hand.

The fire had burned low, but both moons illuminated their camp. Brady’s eyes glinted silver in the lunar light as his alert gaze swung from the sleeping Savage to the trees surrounding their camp. His watchfulness comforted her, and weariness pulled her back under.

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When she woke again, the sky was gray with dawn and the smell of cooking oats filled her senses. They’d actually eaten rather well on the fish and the game bird over the last two days, but her hunger was as relentless as the sea. Would her belly ever feel full again?

Bab was already awake and feeding Angel. The Savage cast her longing gaze toward Brady and smiled every time he glanced her way. Bab didn’t understand he watched her with wariness not attraction. She really was too thick-headed to understand.

Brady went to the river to wash when he saw Cara was awake. After he finished, she took her turn. Bab joined her. The Savage copied Cara’s behavior, splashing water on her face and hands. The creases of skin along Bab’s neck as well as her elbows were black with years of collected grime. It would take more than cold water to wash the filth from her body.

Bab gave Cara a superior smile. “A skinny woman like you can’t give him children. All men want babies.”

Cara bit her lip. Brady was far enough away that he couldn’t hear them, but he watched them. Bab couldn’t know how deep the wound her words but, and Cara would damn well not let her know.

“Even if Brady were here alone, he would never take you as his woman.” Cara suppressed guilt that she must be so cruel. Painful words were survivable compared to swords and guns. “Brady thinks you’re an animal, Bab. It doesn’t matter how human your baby looks, you’re not like her. You’re not like us.”

Bab’s lips pulled back into a sneer. “I’ll have him. He will be my mate.”

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Brady hacked at the thick vine with his knife. Cara sharpened her own blade on a slab of sandstone and kept an eye on Bab.

The Savage scavenged beneath a walnut tree, searching for nuts that might have survived the winter without rotting. Angel rested peacefully on the ground not far from her mother.

Occasionally her little arms would flail as some dust mote or whatever attracted her bright little eyes. She was a lovely child and pleasant in nature as long as she was fed.

He would not have believed it possible of a Savage, but Bab truly loved the baby and treated her with the same gentleness a human mother might.

On the other hand, the looks Bab kept throwing his way had little to do with love. The unrelenting lust in the Savage’s glances sent shivers of creepiness climbing up his backbone. He wasn’t afraid of her, but very, very uneasy. His guilt at leaving Bab, Rena and their babies wasn’t going to prevent him from crossing the river as soon as the raft was ready. If it were only him, he would already be on the other bank. He knew he could swim it, but Cara couldn’t.

Cara. Though Bab’s aborted attack on him had little in common with Cara’s horrific ordeal, Brady had a better understanding of the helplessness she must have felt to be under the power of something so much stronger than herself. Bab’s rough hands and teeth haunted his sleep. How much worse must be Cara’s nightmares?

The stubborn vine finally parted beneath his blade. He picked it up along with the other three he’d cut and dragged them to the three trees they’d placed side by side.

Cara helped him lift the trees and weave the vines around them. The thick, stiff vegetation resisted their efforts to tie it. When they did get a knot formed, it was loose and untrustworthy.

Bab watched them but continued her search for nuts. She had a little pile of acceptable finds that might make one meal for her. They would leave most of their stolen food behind for her and Rena. Brady had decided that if he and Cara found their way home from the southern beach, he would come back and help the two females. But he would bring more men along.

“Do you think it’s seaworthy?” Cara leaned close so he could hear her over the falls.

They were much closer to it than they’d been yesterday. He figured they needed to put in as far from the sea as they could so they had lots of time to cross the river before it crashed into the sea.

If they drifted into that maelstrom, they were done.

“Only one way to know. Let’s test it.” Brady shed his boots, his gun and his shirt. If Bab wasn’t here, watching so avidly, he would strip down entirely and keep his pants dry. But why tempt the devil?

Cara glared at Bab to keep her away and helped him slide the logs to the river’s edge.

They had chosen a section of the waterway where the chaos of the falls had spread out and calmed.

Bab moved a few tentative steps toward them, her darks eyes wide and uncertain. Cara handed him the wide branch he’s whittled into something resembling a paddle. He pushed the logs into the shallows and followed them. The water surprised him with its cold though he’d bathed in it a number of times. He’d not gone in this deep. Mud squished between his toes as he ONE GOOD WOMAN SUSAN KELLEY 88

guided the raft out until the current lapped his thighs. He carefully straddled the three logs, keeping his toes touching the slimy bottom until he found his balance.

The raft was as unruly as a newly broken colt. Cara would find it terrifying. He wasn’t sure they could keep it from spilling once they reached the swifter flowing middle. He used the paddle to keep the awkward craft close to the bank. Cara kept pace with him on land, shaking her head and frowning.

Damn. He paddled into the shallow water where his feet could touch again. They were going to have to tie another log on and make the raft more stable. It might take an entire day.

Bab suddenly ran toward Cara, her mouth open in a scream Brady could hear over the roar of the falls. Cara spun to meet the charging Savage and drew her sword.

Brady cursed and jumped from the raft. He slipped in the mud and nearly went under.

When he righted himself, he saw them. Almost a dozen Savages, led by the two big males, closed in on Bab and Cara.

Bab ducked under Cara’s sword and scampered behind her. Brady ran, the water now at his knees, now his calves, but he wasn’t going to get there in time. His gun and swords lay too far away where he’d put into the river. The only thing he had was his knife on his belt. He pulled it even as the beasts overran Cara and Bab.

His mind raced desperately. Savages were afraid of water. He veered toward his gun, staying in the water. Even in the mild current, it felt like he was running up a mountain side.

The falls drowned out the sounds of the fight behind him.

They had Cara. He was going to kill all of them. He could hardly breathe through his rage and his fear for her. He splashed into shallower water only a few steps from his gun.

He saw them chasing him at the edge of his vision. They were almost even with him. He dove for the bank, his chest hitting the rough grasses and sand. His fingers brushed the leather of his gun belt when a heavy body landed on him. A heavy blow, a kick, struck his head. Then another and another. He threw his elbow back and connected with something that cracked and elicited a howl. Their stench washed over him. They were touching Cara! She was suffering while he struggled so uselessly.

He grabbed the ankle of one that tried to kick his head again. He yanked with all his strength and the Savage fell heavily on its back.

Thick hands curled around his neck from behind, the bastard still on his back. Brady took hold of one thick finger on each hand and bent them back with a great jerk. Bones snapped, and the weight lifted from his back. The Savage screeched curses.

Suddenly free, Brady pulled his belt toward himself, but the Savage he’d tripped flung itself at him. They fell backward in an awkward heap, but Brady did all he could to keep rolling.

They splashed into the river.

The Savage let go of him and slogged with panicked haste toward the bank. Brady retraced his steps toward his gun, but more of the creatures joined the one with the broken fingers. He retrieved his knife from the mud where he’d dropped it when the first Savage jumped him. The biggest bastard grinned at him. Brady decided he would kill him first. Then the second big one threw Cara on the ground in front of Brady. Her shirt was torn off her shoulder, and a bruise marred her smooth skin.

Even if he killed the big one, he couldn’t carry the unconscious Cara and get away.

“Drop it,” one of the big males growled. “Or I’ll break your mate’s neck.”

Brady knew no matter what he did would mean his death and Cara’s. At least he’d take one with him. With a shout powered by all his rage, he sprang at the one who’d spoken. A mass ONE GOOD WOMAN SUSAN KELLEY 89

of muscles and hairy skin slammed into him. He felt some of his ribs crack and multiple blows hit his head. He was going to die and leave Cara to her nightmares.

* * * *

Cara woke in a fog but with enough sense to pretend unconsciousness. She slowly tensed her muscles to test her condition. Pain accompanied every small twitch but nothing seemed to be broken. Even breathing hurt. She’d passed out at sometime during the beating. Her plan to die rather than be captured again hadn’t worked.

A wave of another kind of pain washed over her. Brady. He was dead. No tears clogged her throat at the thought. The emotional agony drained and left … nothing. She was empty, only a shell of bones, skin and muscles. The terror she should have felt for the abuse ahead of her did not come. The Savages could not hurt her. Everything but her body was dead. What bitter god would do this to her when she’d only now found love? What cruel deity would slay her heart now that it had learned to feel again?