Over the Barrel (16 page)

Blair plucked the stingers from the back of her
hand before grabbing a handful of the yarrow flowers that they had been using
to repel insects.
 
She tossed the
flowers into the hot kettle, dribbled the sweet honey over the water, and
waited for it to steep.
 
She poured
a bit into the tin cup to taste and was elated!
 
It was delicious!
 
After drizzling honey on a slab of
flatbread, she left it to soften over some hot rocks and went to awaken Sloan.

"Sloan?
 
I made something special for you.
 
Wake up.
 
It will be ready in
a couple of minutes."

"Why did you let me sleep so late?" he
asked, sitting up.

"You were tired.
 
Go get freshened up and see what I
did!" Blair said, excitedly.

Sloan's eyes widened as he sipped the tea.
 
"Blair?
 
Is this what I think it is?"

"Honey!
 
Here, I made the honey-drizzle bread you had told me about.
 
Taste it!"

Sloan bit into the meal and nodded.
 
"It is perfect.
 
Thank you, but didn't I tell you to stay
away from the hives?
 
You could have
been badly injured."

"I did just as you said."
 
Blair looked abashed.
 
"I covered my face; I went slowly
and smoked them.
 
I only took a
small piece of the hive and stayed away from the queen.
 
I did everything you taught me to
do.
 
Why do you look at me with such
disapproval?"

"You were told not to touch the hives.
 
While I do appreciate the effort, you
disobeyed me."

"I cannot seem to please you in anyway, can
I?"
 
Blair stomped her foot,
her eyes filling with tears.
 
"You have been silent and sour with me, and I do not know why.
 
What am I doing that is bringing you so
much displeasure?
 
Is it because I
will not allow you to fuck me?"

"Blair Lorraine, you are to watch your
language.
 
Sit down next to me and
stop your crying.
 
Do as I
say."

"I do not wish to sit anywhere near
you," Blair crossed her arms.
 
"You are being a very difficult traveling companion.
 
I have learned everything you have
taught me, haven't I?
 
I never
complain about comfort or ask you to do anything that I have learned to do.
 
Why do you act as though you despise
me?
 
Except for our dalliances, you
do not utter a word in my presence any longer."

"Please, sit down," Sloan sighed.
 
"You're right."

"I am?" Blair looked stunned.
 
She gathered her composure.
 
"You had best believe that I am
right!"

"I enjoy your company—too much, in
fact.
 
I have never trailed with
another person for a reason.
 
I like
to travel on my own and do things my way.
 
With you, it has been different.
 
You have learned my ways of doing things and I have never seen a
greenhorn take to pioneer life like you have.
 
You should be very proud of
yourself."

"Why do you treat me so indifferently
then?"

"I am feeling things for you that are
inappropriate," Sloan confessed.
 
"The more time I am with you, the more obsessed I become.
 
I even dream about you, Blair.
 
This is not at all good.
 
We cannot be together, but being
together is all that I desire."

"Please explain exactly what you mean by
that statement, Mr. Adkins?
 
You
said that because I lacked skills, I would have no value in this
territory.
 
I am no longer that
innocent, naïve, and spoiled child that started this journey two months
ago.
 
I have obeyed every command
you have given me, without argument.
 
I have proven myself to be an amiable companion, both in the saddle and
in your bed, albeit we have not completed the act which you hold so
sacred."

"Whoa, there!
 
Why are you so angry with
me
?
 
I'm falling in love with you, woman, and it has nothing to do with
taking your virginity!" Sloan shouted, standing quickly and turning his
back to her.
 
"I am a man who
likes to be in charge of things.
 
It
is how I am.
 
I can barely control my
body and keep myself from taking you every night, but I have no control over
these feelings.
 
It makes me feel
weak, and I don't like being weak!"

Blair stared at the ground for a moment and then
walked over to him, placing her hand on his broad shoulder.
 
"Being in love is not a
weakness.
 
I've loved you since the
day you pulled me out from that saloon and put me over the barrel."

"You are a naïve little girl.
 
You don't know what it means to give
your heart to love," Sloan said bitterly.

"Well, neither do you!" Blair
shouted.
 
"You said yourself
that your feelings for your late wife were based on the physical attraction,
not your heart.
 
I know exactly
where this is going, Mr. Sloan Adkins.
 
You, sir, are a coward!"

Before Sloan turned to respond, Blair stomped off
in a huff, using every bit of profanity that she could recall.
 
She ignored Skinwalker's agitated
nickering and picked her way down the rocky slope towards the shade of several
tall pines.

"I'm not chasing you down this time!"
he called out.

Good
, she thought,
because I don't want you around me.

"You better be back here before
nightfall," she heard him bellow.

Like bloody
hell I will
, Blair
murmured back.
 
She rubbed her back
again as she settled in a cozy, pine-needled overhang that protected her from
the mid-summer sun and heat.
 
Without supplies from camp, she felt helpless and uncomfortable.
 
She buried her head in her crossed arms
and began to cry.

"Why are you crying, Miss Blair?
 
Did the big bad ranger hurt you?"

Blair's head shot up to face three men that stood
lazily before her.
 
One held a
revolver straight in her direction.

"What do you want?" she whispered.

"What any hot-blooded man wants:
 
a nice body to warm his bed at
night.
 
But not here," the one
man announced.
 
Blair peered at him
closely.
 
It was the man from the
saloon, and he had been following them!

"Have you been following us all this
time?"

"It ain't been easy.
 
That horse of yours always seems to be
on the watch.
 
Get up.
 
Don't ya even think of screamin'.
 
Do it and there's gonna be a bullet
where your pretty face was."

"Please, sir.
 
I am on my monthlies and cannot travel
without pain," she gulped, desperately looking for something to protect
herself.
 
She heard Skinwalker
snorting in the distance and Sloan shouting at him to be quiet.
 
Horses
are the best watchdogs … how quickly he forgot!

"You can travel just fine, ma'am.
 
Gag her, boys, and tie up those
hands.
 
I don't want her to have a
chance to grab one of our guns."

Blair blinked back the dust from her eyes as she
shifted uncomfortably behind the pack-mule's saddle.
 
The outlaws had been careful to parallel
her and Sloan and stay downwind of the skittish horse so they would not be
noticed.
 
She reddened as the men
vividly described her 'pseudo' lovemaking and her reluctance to 'take it up the
ass'.

"I'll show you just how enjoyable it is, my
lovely," the wretched man proclaimed, "blood makes me squeamish, so
we will wait until you are done shedding.
 
Take her gag off, I want to hear her talk dirty to me like she does to
her ranger."

"I beg of you.
 
Please see me unscathed to my
grandfather's ranch and he will reward you handsomely."

"Malcolm?
 
He doesn't have a penny to his
name.
 
You have no value to anyone
except for what your little cunt can do," the man laughed scornfully.

"You know my grandfather?" Blair asked,
trying not to allow his words to have any impact upon her clarity of thought.

"Everyone in these parts knows your
grandpa.
 
He's a swindler and a
cheat.
 
He also has a really nice
spread of land.
 
Where do you think
we all have been hiding out?"

Blair swallowed dryly, her mind reeling with
disbelief.
 
"How is it that my
grandfather has nothing?
 
He owns
the largest bison ranch in the territory."

"His money is wrapped up in other things
than cold, hard cash.
 
He's a
conman, girl.
 
He blocks the water
rights from other ranchers and makes them pay.
 
If he didn't drink and gamble away his
cash earnings, he'd be a mighty rich man.
 
Instead, he's a fool."

"This cannot be true.
 
My aunt…"

"I've heard about your aunt.
 
Imelda, isn't it?
 
Malcolm's been telling the story of how
she finagled her father into giving her the family fortune.
 
He said she even spread her legs to make
the deal."

"That is not true!
 
My aunt is a mean, bitter woman,
true.
 
But I refuse to believe she
is capable of such atrocities."

"This girl has some fire in her after
all," the man said to his silent companions.
 
"I am going to enjoy her.
 
She is mine.
 
Anyone who touches her is dead, got
it?
 
That means you guard her with
your life."

"Sure, Boss."

Blair blinked back the sweat from her eyes and
surveyed her surroundings.
 
The
outlaws had pieced together a makeshift shelter in an abandoned cliff and had
tossed their sparse belongings haphazardly on the ground.
 
She was shoved to the back of the abode
and banged her shoulder against the wall.

"Have care!" she demanded, her eyes
flashing angrily.
 
"Release my
hands this instant."

"So you can grab a knife and gut me like a
pig?
 
Think again, bitch."

Blair lifted her chin stubbornly, "No, so
that I may take care of my personal needs.
 
I am assuming you have wadding available for me?"

The outlaw blushed.
 
"I do not concern myself with the
issues of women."

Blair lifted her wrists, "You either start
concerning yourself, or you will be attracting every coyote this side of the
country.
 
I want a bucket of clean
water, rags and some privacy."

"Now, listen here, lady; I do not follow the
orders of women."

"Consider yourself fortunate that my temper
is under control right now.
 
My
orders are the least of things you have to worry about."

"You seem to forget who the captive is
here."

"And you seem to forget that a woman
experiencing the discomfort of her monthlies is a force to be reckoned
with.
 
Now do as I say before I
truly grow angry!"

The outlaw frowned and gestured to one of his men
to procure the items.
 
Blair
disguised her fear with her anger, hoping to continue to confuse and bewilder
him with her unexpected behavior.
 
The thought of him harming her crossed her mind, but she abandoned the
image in the hopes that he would see her to be more valuable alive and intact.
 
The men remained silent as she forced
them to turn their backs so that she could clean herself and secretly slip the
small wood-knife from the thigh harness into the sleeve of her dress.
 
She silently thanked Sloan for forcing
her to carry the tool at all times.