Untamed (4 page)

When Josie finally came around, she didn't know where she was or what had happened to her. It was dark, suffocatingly so beneath an old blanket that stank of sour horse sweat. Despite the smelly covering, she was cold and clammy all over, and her head hurt. The frigid floor felt as if it were moving beneath her, floating. Something thumped against her right ear, followed immediately by the muffled trickle of water. She was on a boat of some kind. Then she remembered the vicious savage who'd dragged her out of the pleasure palace. Her future suddenly looked grim, as bleak as her stepfather's soul.

Gripped with fear, Josie slowly inched her head up in hopes of catching a furtive glimpse of her captor. A rough hand immediately shoved her back down against the floor.

"Don't move,'' came Sissy's voice in a harsh whisper. "It'll go better for us if he thinks we're sleeping."

"Oh, praise God, you did follow me." It was a struggle, but Josie managed to keep from shouting with joy as she realized that her only friend in the world was lying right beside her. "I was afraid that you'd changed your mind, and that I'd be belly up and half rotted before anyone came looking for me."

"I didn't exactly come looking for you." Sissy snuggled closer, sharing her body heat. "That Indian came back for me when I ran upstairs to get us a couple of dressing gowns for later."

"Dressing gowns?" In her horror, Josie forgot to whisper. "What the hell do we want with them?"

"Hush up. As long as the boat is moving, I figure it's best that we ain't. Once this fellah gets us where he aims to take us is soon enough to have to put up with him."

Josie grumbled under her breath. "I'm not putting up with anything else from that savage. I'll kill myself first."

"I don't see that we got much choice. We're somewheres out in the middle of the Tongue River. I can't swim. Can you?"

An excellent point. Josie thought back to the fierce-looking Indian and the axe he'd buried in the desk. She shuddered, and not from the cold.

"You put up with that savage if you want to," she whispered, "but if the posse hasn't caught up with us by the time this boat stops, I'm making an escape."

"What posse?" Sissy uttered a muted snort. "We ain't got a prayer of having the law riding out after us, princess."

"B-but we've been kidnapped, taken against our will by a wild Indian. The law has to come looking for us."

"There isn't a man alive, much less one with a badge pinned to his shirt, that's gonna risk his neck chasing after a couple of whores who went missing in the night. You might as well get that idea right out of your head."

Without pausing to think how her words might affect Sissy, Josie blurted out, `But I'm not a whore. They at least have to come looking for me, don't they?"

Sissy took her time before answering. When she did, there wasn't a hint of mirth in her tone. "You work in a whorehouse, princess, remember? As far as everyone but you is concerned, you're just another bitch who can be bought, beaten, raped, or even killed. No one gives a damn what happens to you now. I'm not even sure that I do."

The words stung, but they also echoed in Josie's mind throughout the long boat ride. Once they were on dry land again, the savage made sure she couldn't escape by binding her hands and flinging her fork-legged across the bony back of a mule. He then led the pack animal, with Sissy mounted behind him on his horse, on a miserable trek through the mountains. If there was any hope of escaping from this nightmare, it would have to be after they reached their destination. Josie also realized by then that she would have to come up with a plan on her own. The law wouldn't be coming to her rescue and Sissy couldn't be counted on either.

Josie didn't know yet how she would regain her freedom, but she did know one thing—she hadn't escaped a life of bondage on the Baum farm, not to mention life as a prostitute, just to become the slave of a bloodthirsty Indian. She would be free again at the first opportunity—even if it meant hanging herself.

At the cabin, Daniel woke up with a start. Either he'd been dreaming or he'd heard the sound of his horse trumpeting the return of his companions—Long Belly's mount and a pack mule. Against Daniel's express wishes, the animals and the stubborn Cheyenne had disappeared the morning after they'd returned from the buffalo hunt. Long Belly wouldn't tell him where he was going, but Daniel doubted that he was off on yet another pointless search for a phantom bison. It was far more likely that the fool had gone after an even more elusive quarry—a white woman willing to accompany him to a remote mountain cabin so she could care for the even bigger fool who shared his ancestry. Irritated as he was by the fact that he'd been left to fend for himself again, Daniel had to chuckle at the thought of his brother-in-law actually finding such a woman.

He glanced out the window, figuring he still had a couple hours left before sundown, and then began to coax his useless body toward the edge of the bed. Chores that had once taken only a few minutes now took hours or even days. If he didn't drag himself out to the barn now and take care of the animals for the night, Daniel knew he'd be warming up his supper in the dark. A handicap he didn't need considering he could barely manage in full daylight.

He'd just heaved his splinted leg over the side of the mattress, and was sitting there sweating from both pain and exertions when Daniel heard the rumble of footsteps on the porch. Too many footsteps to signify the return of one misguided Indian. Cursing the fact that the awkward position he'd gotten into made it impossible to reach his rifle, he grabbed the only weapon at hand—the Bowie knife he always wore strapped to his waist. About that same time the door swung open. Brandishing his knife, Daniel twisted around and saw that Long Belly stood on the threshold, framed by the sun.

"I have returned," said the man he called brother. "I bring with me the gift I promised."

With that startling announcement, he gave a tug and pulled someone into the cabin with him. It took a moment for Daniel's vision to adjust to the blinding afternoon sunlight, but when it did, he nearly fell off the bed in surprise.

Not only did Long Belly have a white woman with him, she was dressed in a demure gown of lemon-yellow calico. Her russet-colored hair, sparkling with a coppery sheen where the sun kissed it, was twisted into a long braid that hung down over her shoulder. She was in the prime of life, not at all used up, and even more surprising, she wasn't what Daniel would call hard on the eyes. Mercy. How the hell had Long Belly convinced such a woman to accompany him onto an Indian Reservation?

Almost the minute he asked himself that question, the Cheyenne dragged her further into the room. Daniel saw then that the lady's hands were clasped at her waist, tied together at the wrists by a thick ribbon of red satin. She was Long Belly's prisoner. What had the damn fool done—kidnapped a farmer's wife?

"Go to my brother, Daniel-Two-Skins," said Long Belly, giving the woman a shove. She stumbled and nearly fell over the pile of discarded clothing Daniel had shed yesterday. "Let him look upon your spotted face."

The woman squared her shoulders, as proud as any Cheyenne chief, and approached the foot of the bed. Too shocked to say anything yet, Daniel looked her over, noting that her eyes were a lustrous brown, the same shade as the agate hanging from the rawhide strip he wore around his neck. Even without the sun to highlight it, her hair was a rich shade of mahogany he'd never seen before, and her ivory skin was sprinkled with freckles. He also noticed that her expression wasn't nearly as enchanting as her features. Her jaw was set with hatred and a certain helpless terror pinched her mouth.

Daniel smiled, trying to ease the poor woman's anxiety. Her expression remained unchanged.

"Hello," he murmured softly. "The Cheyenne call me Daniel-Two-Skins because I'm a half-breed, but I'm known in the Territories as Daniel McCord. What's your name?"

"Josie Baum." She glared at him with those beautiful agate-hard eyes. "That's the name of the woman the posse will be looking for when they come gunning for you and this savage."

Alarmed, Daniel shifted his gaze to Long Belly. "What did you do? Raise her up from another man's trap?"

"I am no a thief. I bought her as my gift to you."

"Bought me?" The woman shot a wary glance at Long Belly, and then turned her wrath on Daniel. "That's just not true. He kidnapped me, knocked me senseless, and then dragged me up here against my will. If someone doesn't take me back to Miles City this minute, the law will come gunning for the both of you, no questions asked."

Daniel shot Long Belly a serious, inquisitive look, all the prompting the man needed to defend himself.

"She lies. I bought this spotted-face woman from the House-That-Sells-Women. My coins were accepted. This female and her friend belong to us now."

"Her friend?" Daniel sat up a little straighter, straining his aching leg. "You bought two women?"

"There is another," Long Belly admitted. "She is a dark female with the hair of a buffalo. She is in the barn tending to the horses."

When the logic behind this hit him, it was all Daniel could do to keep from laughing out loud. Near as he could figure, Long Belly had gone to a whorehouse with the understanding that he could buy women there as slaves rather than for a few moments of pleasure. How he'd gotten away with such a brazen scheme was beyond Daniel, but he was, in a way, impressed.

"I'm sure you meant well, but I'm afraid you've made a big mistake. These women..." Daniel glanced at Josie, thinking she didn't fit his idea of .a prostitute in the least. "They can be bought all right, but it's just for a few hours or maybe the night. They sell their sexual favors, not themselves. Do you understand?"

As Long Belly pondered this custom, the woman beside him found her tongue again.

"We tried to tell him that back at Lola's, but he wouldn't listen. He attacked the place with an axe and scared us all half to death. You've got to make him take us back."

"You will hold your tongue and do as you are told," said Long Belly.

She turned to him, shoulders trembling, and shrank back a few steps.

"You will tend to Daniel-Two-Skins now," Long Belly went on to say. "As you can see, he needs much help. I will go see what is keeping your friend in the barn."

With that he turned on his moccasined heel and stalked out of the cabin.

Josie followed his departure until the savage closed the door behind him. Then she breathed a tiny sigh of relief. At least her captor hadn't claimed her for his own. Not that knowing she 'belonged' to the loathsome heap of man lying on the bed made her feel a whole lot better about her predicament.

She thought this Daniel-Two-Skins might be a mountain man of sorts, given the scraggly beginnings of a beard and unruly, shoulder-length hair. Both were as black as coal, tangled and unkempt, looking as if he'd used the blade of a dull axe to groom himself—if he ever did. Although it wasn't much reassurance, his startling Irish-blue eyes did seem to prove the fact that he was at least half white. What little she could see of his skin through the hair and buckskin clothing was darker than her own, a warm nutmeg.

Josie glanced up to see that he was staring at her, watching her with those bright, curious eyes as she studied him. It made her feel as if he might be imagining all the wicked things he wanted her to do to his odious body throughout the night. Nervous under the man's unrelenting stare and evil thoughts, Josie turned her attention to the cabin itself.

Lethargy and a modest loft hung over the large one-room dwelling, making it feel much smaller than it was, more like a trap than a home. It was a shambles of a place, with two wobbly-looking chairs, a floor that was more dirt than wood, a mound of unwashed kettles and plates, and a vast assortment of boots and articles of men's clothing scattered from one end of the floor to the other. The air smelled vaguely of wood smoke and stale urine. Not so unlike the atmosphere at Lola's Pleasure Palace.

"Josie?" Daniel said, startling her. "Don't be afraid of me or Long Belly. Neither of us means you harm."

This comment in no way relieved her fears. She knew firsthand how cruel and vicious Indians could be, and as far as she could tell, the savage who'd kidnapped her was no different from any other. If this man was, as he claimed, a half brother to the savage, Josie doubted that he was much more civilized.

She speared him with the most vicious gaze she could manage. "I'll see you both hang for this if you don't make that Indian take us back to Miles City soon."

"Long Belly will take you back all right, but not until tomorrow." He sighed heavily. "In the meantime, I'd sure appreciate it if you'd help me lift my leg back onto the bed. It's killing me."

Josie rather hoped that it would. She didn't move.

Daniel stared back at her, impressed by her gumption, misguided though it might have been. While he did mean to make sure that she and her friend were returned to their people, he didn't see any harm in making use of her services until then, especially since Long Belly had already paid for at least that much. In fact, it could be argued that she owed him a little of her time.

"If this is the best you can do," he said softly. "I might as well turn you over to Long Belly for the night. You're not a hell of a lot of use to me,"

Her eyes flared and Josie lost her obstinate stance. "I'm not a nurse," she said, sounding much less defiant. "I don't know the first thing about broken legs and such."

"You don't have to," Daniel assured her. "Just get on over here and help me lift it onto the bed."

She moved grudgingly, but finally reached the edge of the mattress and held out her bound wrists.

"How am I supposed to help you with my hands tied?"

Daniel leaned up long enough to remove the binding, a satin sash that looked as if it had come from a fine dressing gown. He caught himself wondering if it was a gown she wore when plying her trade, then imagined her nude beneath the slick satin.

"Now what?" she asked.

Suddenly more interested in her than his injury, Daniel collapsed against his pillow and grinned. "I'll leave that up to you."