Never Surrender (13 page)

The darkness held all kinds of nameless dangers, but
so did her present company. She sat down on the stubbled grass and wiggled
around until it no longer pricked her.

Walking all day had taken its toll. Her feet throbbed
non-stop. What she wouldn’t give to have her Asics Gels at this point. But they
were still packed in her suitcase at the motel...wherever that was.

She paused.

How on earth had this happened? If she concentrated
hard enough, perhaps she could go back through time to where she belonged. If
Taima had lived...but he was dead and nothing connected her with this place.

Too tired to think anymore, Kate tested the prickly
grass with her hands. She lay down, curling up for the night. Hopefully, she
wouldn’t freeze without a blanket. But then part of her wished she would. She
closed her eyes and allowed thoughts of Taima to ease her into sleep.

Kate woke to the tug on the rope around her wrists.
She looked up at her antagonist. Disgusted at seeing the scarred warrior, she
closed her eyes again. The throbbing in her feet still persisted. How could she
survive another day of walking behind them like an animal? She wanted to die
and join Taima. Only then, would she find peace.

A second yank on her arms unleashed her temper. If she
was going to be treated like an animal, they might as well have a good reason.
She coiled her muscles like a spring, refusing to take any more abuse. Quickly
pulling up her leg, Kate flexed her foot, aimed at her captor’s knee and
connected with satisfaction. As Scar Face grabbed his knee, Kate rolled out of
the way and onto her feet before his foot met her backside.

Caught by surprise, the warrior almost lost his
balance, but still held tight to the other end of her rope. She pulled hard on
her end. He lost the remainder of his balance and fell, letting go of the rope.
Quickly, Kate turned and ran into the trees, the other warrior’s laughter
following behind her.

She ran a few hundred yards before stopping.
Cautiously, she crouched in a set of dense bushes, listening.

Nothing.

Both the other braves had come after her. At least
they wouldn’t be as angry as their leader. Both stopped and listened, their
gazes scanning the waist-high sagebrush. She wouldn’t have a chance in hell of
escaping them without suffering more abuse. The braves moved in her direction,
quickly spotting her and she stood, dejected. One of the braves grabbed her
rope and yanked her back to camp.

Kate stared at the leader as she strode into camp,
concentrating on the white scar that slashed his eyebrow and cheek rather than
his dark gaze that bore into her. Looking away, she stepped to a boulder and
sat down. The dark clouds rolling in certainly matched her mood.

Taima’s killer walked toward her, then again picked up
the end of the rope still tied to her wrists. Defiantly she met his gaze,
prepared for whatever he might do. She refused to cower as she waited for his
hand to rise, but instead he knelt before her and grasped her ankles in a death
grip.

Scar Face proceeded to bind her feet as well as her
hands. Now she’d be forced to ride with him rather than walk. This wasn’t what
she’d planned at all. She assumed her actions would guarantee her the
punishment of walking. This would be much worse.

Once mounted, the scarred warrior held her tight
before him, his arm securely around her waist. They traveled slowly. The dark
clouds grew black, and a sudden cool rain soaked Kate and her captors. Hail
combined with the rain to sting her skin. She tipped her face down to avoid the
stinging ice while the accompanying rain continued to soak her hair and dress,
chilling her to the bone.

The water seemed to loosen the ropes a bit. Hoping to
circulate the blood, Kate wiggled her numb fingers and toes. Her legs dangled
to one side of the horse. Would they ever untie her?

Finally, the hail stopped, though the rain continued.
Water dripped down her face as she stared toward the jagged snow-peaked
mountains.

The Tetons!

She should have recognized them, though she’d only
seen pictures of them. Jagged black peaks jutted above the snow that covered
them like a lace collar. Their beauty astounded her. She’d read of several
grizzly bears attacking curious humans who ventured into these parts. Was the
bear population higher now than in her time? Surely they ran the same risk of
being attacked.

* * * * *

Burning pain radiated through Taima’s side as warm
blood seeped between his fingers. Weakened, he struggled to lean on one elbow
as he searched the area. His horse still stood hidden within the trees beyond
the water. He’d lost too much blood waiting for the Blackfoot to leave the area
with Kate. Knowing if he would have moved a muscle, an arrow would definitely
have been released by the readied warrior.

Kate’s blood-curdling scream still echoed through his
brain; the pain in her eyes had seared his soul. Taima never imagined it would
be so hard to lie still in order to save them both. Now she thought him dead.
Hopefully, she wouldn’t provoke the Blackfoot enough to kill her, but Taima
knew firsthand how difficult she could be.

He also knew how loving she could be. The thought of
holding the warmth of her body in his arms again gave Taima the strength he
needed to stand. But could he mount his horse? If he didn’t, Kate would surely
end up in the hands of the Green River trappers that the Blackfoot said he’d
trade her to.

Vivid memories of the deaths of his mother and wife
immediately emerged. He refused to lose another woman he loved. Dizziness
nearly overwhelmed him as he moved toward his horse, but he kept going.
Gripping his side, darkness momentarily clouded his vision and he had to stop,
the pain almost sending him to his knees.

“Kate...” Taima whispered as he rubbed his eyes. He
glanced at the sun. Mid-afternoon. The Blackfoot had tied Kate’s hands and made
her walk behind them. Their travel would be slow, giving him time to catch up.

Taima wavered on his feet, and then started toward his
horse again.

Finally reaching the animal, he un-tethered it with
his free hand and moved to a rock. Struggling for one last burst of energy, he
stepped up and mounted his horse, collapsing upon its back. One hand held his
bleeding wound, the other clung to the horse’s mane.

Pain tore through him like raging fire from so much
movement, nearly causing him to slip off the horse. His vision again blurred,
but he clenched his teeth in an attempt to stay conscious.

The horse moved forward and Taima prayed it traveled
in the right direction. Perspiration covered his face and chest. His hair clung
to his back and shoulders. Taima closed his eyes for a moment, but his last
vision of Kate screaming appeared vividly behind his eyelids. Anger at his
helplessness knotted his stomach. He was useless to Kate in this condition.

Taima was unsure how long he traveled when a horse
came thundering toward him. He couldn’t even raise his head to see the rider,
he only wanted to sleep, to block out the pain in his side, to block out the
inability to help Kate. His horse stopped. Through a shrouded mist, he knew
someone helped him down and moved him to lay in the shade, where he drifted
into a peaceful darkness.

* * * * *

When Taima finally opened his eyes, glowing flames
licked at the timber of a fire. Bright orange embers escaped into the night
sky. He reached for his side. Leather strips bound his waist and the wound, but
the pain hadn’t subsided.

Someone added more wood to the fire.

Ahanu came into sight.

He should have guessed Ahanu would be the one to find
him. Likely, his father had had a vision and sent his friend. No matter, Taima
was glad he wasn’t alone. He knew he needed rest before he could go after Kate,
but come morning, he’d be on his way again.

* * * * *

The sun’s warmth woke Taima. When he attempted to sit
up, pain and memories of yesterday flooded him.

“You won’t be going anywhere for a few days.”

Taima looked into Ahanu’s concerned-filled dark eyes.
“I have to go after Kate,” Taima groaned as he rolled to his side.

“I saw footprints at the pond and blood on the ground.
Who did this?” Ahanu’s stern voice cut through the fog in Taima’s brain.

“The scarred Blackfoot Washaki talked of. Kate said
he’s the one we rescued her from during the attack on the wagons.”

Just that small amount of speech winded Taima. He held
his side and coughed. Ahanu handed him a bottle of white man’s whiskey and some
dried meat. Taima took several swallows of the fiery liquid.

“Washaki said the Blackfoot would return for what he
thought was his. Where would he take her?” Ahanu asked, then tore off a chunk
of meat with his teeth.

Taima swallowed more of the numbing fire water before
answering. “They thought I lay dead while they discussed the rendezvous at
Green River. He plans to trade Kate to the trappers for guns...and this!” Taima
growled, holding up the bottle with disgust.

The anger in Ahanu’s eyes told Taima he, too,
remembered what the trappers had done three years ago. “You can’t go after her.
You can’t even move!”

“I must. You know what they’ll do to her,” Taima
stated, wondering how he would accomplish the impossible. “There has to be a
way.”

Moments of silence passed as Taima chewed the dried
meat, hoping a plan would present itself. “They tied Kate’s hands and made her
walk behind the horses,” he said, thinking aloud.

“Then she’ll help by slowing them down so we can catch
them easily.”

Taima looked at his friend. “Kate thinks I’m dead.” He
winced in pain at a failed attempt to sit up. “Damn,” he winced again. “I had
to pretend to be dead so they wouldn’t kill me. One of the warriors wanted to
put an arrow through my chest.”

“How many were there?” Ahanu asked.

“Three. Two held Kate while I fought the scarred
warrior. I tried to watch him and her at the same time; stupid on my part.”

“She has distracted you since you first found her.”

Taima raised a brow and curled his lip at Ahanu’s
comment, then looked away. Ahanu was right; he always seemed to be right. Kate
had been a distraction to him ever since he’d first laid eyes on her. Ahanu had
proved that the day at the stream. Taima hadn’t even heard him approach.

He thought of how she looked that day at the healing
pond. The sun’s reflection upon her dark hair reminded him of the moon’s
reflection upon the water. Her eyes spoke words her tongue wouldn’t.

“You rest a while longer. It’s still early. Then we’ll
see if you can travel.”

He tipped the bottle to his lips again. He’d find her.
First thing tomorrow, they’d leave.

Taima wiped away the perspiration on his forehead with
the back of his hand. The intense pain from the wound in his side forced him to
obey Ahanu’s order to rest, though he hated giving in to the pain. He winced as
he narrowed his eyes at Ahanu. “If you allow me to rest for more than a few
hours, you will regret it.”

“Rest. If Kate walks, their trail will be easy to
follow. And we’ll be moving faster than they are.”

Later, Taima opened his eyes when Ahanu touched his
shoulder, and he blinked at the bright noon sun. Though the burning pain in his
side still raged, he did feel stronger. He smelled the fresh medicinal dressing
Ahanu had laid at his side as Ahanu removed the leather bandages around his
ribs.

“You would make a good wife,” Taima teased.

His friend only glared back at him. “I had to cut your
shirt to make these wraps, but your leggings are on that rock,” Ahanu said,
nodding his head toward the rock. “We need to pack fresh medicine around the
wound before we leave. I used the crusty smoke balls and water to make these
dressings. Now lie still.”

When he finished, Ahanu strode toward the horses,
returning with them. Taima wrapped an arm around his friend’s neck and slowly
stood. Nearly exhausted already, he sat on the rock and began putting on his
leggings, wincing in pain as he did so.

“If you can’t sit there without being in pain, you
can’t ride,” Ahanu scolded. “I can go after her for you.”

Taima snapped his head up and met Ahanu’s gaze. “I
will go...if it kills me!”

“It just might! Your side still bleeds.”

“Get me on the horse. I’ll be fine,” Taima stated,
holding out his hand for the reins. Ahanu brought his horse to the rock and
Taima mounted as he had yesterday. At least now he had enough strength to sit
up. The muscles in his stomach pulled on the wound near his ribs, so Taima tried
not to tighten his left side if he could help it.

Ahanu handed him the bottle of fire water. “You may
need this.”

Taima drew a long swallow of the potent liquid,
accepting the burn in his throat, then nudged his horse ahead with Ahanu’s. He
glanced at his friend, pursing his lips in doubt.

“We’ll find her,” Ahanu said.

Taima could only nod. His people had been bitter
enemies with the Blackfoot for as long as he could remember, and Kate’s captors
would seek revenge against her. She had to be safe, he told himself as he rode
along with Ahanu.

* * * * *

One day seemed to blend into another for Kate as she
rode with the warriors through the mountains. The scarred warrior ordered her
to sit still as they swiftly moved south. She no longer cared what happened to
her; she didn’t belong here anyway! Perhaps today something would happen to
send her back through time where she’d come from, but then again, she had
thought the same thing yesterday...and the day before.

Weariness was taking its toll on her body; just
sitting on the horse took all her strength. She’d even lost track of how long
they’d traveled. Although they had stopped dragging her, the savages treated
her like one of their dogs, tossing her meat at mealtime and keeping her tied
at night.

Last night’s dream vividly occupied her mind today.
She’d dreamed of the warrior in the misty valley, but still didn’t know who he
was. Her dreams hadn’t been anything memorable since she’d landed here in the
past, yet last night’s dream made her remember who she searched for.

Could the warrior be Taima? But since he’d died, he
could no longer play a role in the dream. The lake and mountains didn’t look
familiar either. Confused, Kate glanced toward the setting sun beyond the
jagged Tetons. They weren’t the same as those in her dream.

A headache began to pound at her temples and she
brought her tied hands up and pressed her fingers to her forehead. The
throbbing kept rhythm with the horse’s slow gait as they traveled along the
river that snaked around the base of the mountains. If they would only stop
this incessant pace! It had to be time to rest for the night.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated on what little time
she and Taima had spent in the healing water and how gently he’d massaged her
temples that morning. His image formed easily in her mind’s eye, as if she’d
seen him today. Kate touched her lips, remembering how Taima had provoked her
response. The slow caress of his hand along her naked flesh had made her want
more. Yet, now she would never experience what he could teach her...or make her
feel emotionally.

A heavy sadness filled her heart for what could never
be, and a familiar sorrow welled up within her. Taima had too easily destroyed
the wall around her heart, and she’d allowed it to happen. But she needed him
to love her.

Wanting what she could never have, warm tears slipped
from her closed eyes. Rough fingers beneath her chin moved her face up and she
stared at the ugly white scar, then the dark eyes of Taima’s murderer. She
couldn’t help it. The tears flowed harder. Jerking her chin from the warrior’s
grasp, she looked away.

“The trappers will soon make you forget your Indian
lover,” he said, and laughed.

As much as Kate wanted to ignore his comment, she’d
been dreading her arrival at Green River. Her dreams included tormenting hands
that reached for her from the darkness and of laughter coming from all
directions. Surely she wouldn’t survive beyond her first day. Death had to be
better than what this warrior had in store for her.

She bit her lower lip. If she could only talk with her
friend, Monica; at least talking with her would help. Or even Aiyana, who had
seemed aware of her attraction to Taima even before Kate had admitted it to
herself. She wished she and Taima hadn’t argued so often; their relationship
could have blossomed into something beautiful if she wouldn’t have been so
stubborn.

This time a sob broke loose that she could no longer
hold back, and the tears continued to flow down her cheeks. She wiped her chin
on her shoulder.

“By mid-morning tomorrow, we will trade you. Then you
will cry no more, white eyes,” he tormented.

* * * * *

The next morning, Kate realized Taima’s killer had
told her the truth. She now stood atop a hill. An encampment spread over the
valley before her as she carefully scanned the groups of traders and Indians.
Men milled about exchanging furs for guns or liquor, cooking utensils or
blankets. Teepees dotted the land as well as a small lodge or two.

Kate’s stomach knotted to think what lay ahead. With
her hands still tied to the long, leather rope, she was tugged behind her
captor’s horse down into the encampment of men. The beat of her heart raced
faster than the rhythm of her reluctant steps. She pulled the rope taut, hoping
to slow their progress, but the savage yanked her forward.

As they entered the area, men crowded around her,
Indian braves and trappers alike. Some men stayed near the lodge with their
female Indian companions, paying no heed to her entrance into their vicinity.
The stench of unwashed bodies sickened her.

She glanced from one unshaven face to the next. Brown,
rotted teeth were revealed as the trappers smiled and leered at her. Bile rose
in her throat to think she would be given to one of these filthy men in
exchange for a few guns and whiskey.

When a bearded trapper reached out to touch her face,
the scarred warrior dismounted and pulled his knife to stop the man, pointing
the knife at the trapper’s throat. “We trade first. Show me guns,” he said.

Kate couldn’t believe this Blackfoot would actually
trade her like a piece of equipment. He wrapped her rope around his hand and
pulled her along, following the bearded man as the crowd cleared an exit for
him.

Humiliation heated Kate’s face as the Indian women
whispered behind their hands. She wondered how those women could allow such
filthy men to touch them, but they seemed to enjoy the attention.

Kate lowered her lashes to stare at her hands. Dirt
caked to the blood on her wrists around the rawhide. Her fingernails were
broken and dirty. The body odor of traveling for six days without a bath almost
choked her, and she knew her hair hung in a knotted mess. She just wanted to
die, it would be easier.

Unwillingly, Kate followed the men to one of the
trapper’s huge tents, but she waited outside with Taima’s killer and the other
men. The trapper tied open the entrance flap to reveal his trade goods, then
bent and threw back a blanket. Kate couldn’t believe her eyes. Nearly thirty
rifles lay spread over the ground beside three cases of whiskey.

Realizing she was actually being given to this
trapper, her stomach flipped, then tightened as she stared at the scruffy man.
His gaze devoured her where she stood. Kate covered her mouth, but doubted that
would stop the bile forcing its way up her throat. Quickly stepping away from
the entrance, she got sick at the side of the tent, then turned away and
collapsed to her knees. A cold sweat covered her face.

She couldn’t believe she would be given to that awful
man inside. He was three times her size. God, why couldn’t she just die right
here? She was so tired. How could she possibly continue?

Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the hair, leaving her
no choice but to stand. Again, the scarred face loomed before her. “Good-bye,
white eyes. Your new owner has paid plenty for you. Please him well.” The
Blackfoot twisted his hand in her long hair. “It’s been so long since he’s had
a white woman, he’ll quickly rid your mind of your Indian lover.”

She glanced at the trapper as he scratched through his
beard, his gaze roving the length of her body. The livid lust in his eyes made
her take a step back.

“Cut her hands free,” he said.

Kate widened her eyes. Had she heard him correctly?

“You’re making a mistake, white man.”

“Cut her loose,” the trapper repeated.

Kate glanced at Taima’s killer. The hatred that stared
back at her could easily have severed the rawhide, but he slipped his blade
between her wrists and cut her free.

She looked at the trapper. “Thank you,” Kate murmured
as she flexed her fingers. She examined the dried blood and dirt on her wrists,
then glared at the Blackfoot.

The Indian chief sheathed his blade. “My braves and I
will collect the guns and fire water and be on our way at first light.”

Kate wished him gone, but before he strode away,
Taima’s killer spoke again, a wicked smile twisting his thin lips. “The
memories of your lover will be a thing of the past...soon.”

As he walked past the bearded trapper, she heard him
say, “By nightfall, you’d be wise to restrain her. She is like a wild mountain
cat.”

“She won’t leave my sight,” the trapper answered.

Kate looked around at the faces in the crowd. None of
them smiled, but curiosity sparked a gleam in all their eyes. The few Indian
women present clung to the trappers, attempting to entice them away to their
teepees. Kate wondered if they’d been traded or if they were here by choice.

“Do you have a name?” the trapper demanded.

“Kate.”

“By the looks of you, not only did he not allow you to
bathe, he didn’t feed you either. Hungry?”

Kate nodded. She didn’t want to be cooperative, but
she’d been hungry for too many days to refuse food.

He pointed toward a young Indian woman. “Go with her.
She’ll feed you and show you a place to rest.”

As Kate stepped past him, his fingers wrapped around
her arm like a vise, and he yanked her close. Her eyes widened as she met his
brown gaze, and the small hairs on the back of her neck rose.

“Try anything at all, and I’ll see each one of these
men get a turn with you...white man and warrior alike.”

Kate raised her chin and pulled her arm from his grasp.
She refused to let him see how he frightened her. The crowd stared at her, and
Kate bravely met their gazes as she followed the other woman. She wouldn’t
jeopardize what freedom she’d just gained, but neither would she put up with
being abused any longer.

At the trapper’s tent, Kate rested on a thick tree
stump set before the fire. The woman withdrew two pieces of meat from a black
kettle hanging over the orange coals. She stepped inside the tent and returned
to hand Kate the plate of food that now included two soft biscuits and
something to drink.

She had been deprived of water most of the journey and
couldn’t wait to get the cup to her lips. When Kate took a sip, she nearly
choked. The woman had filled her small tin cup with whiskey! But she wouldn’t
complain; it would help numb her against the situation she now found herself
in.

The meat and biscuits were a relief after eating only
dried meat most of the last six days. Seldom had she eaten fresh kill. When she
picked up her cup to finish the last swallow, it had been refilled. Kate met
the woman’s narrowed eyes, then she turned her back to Kate. Maybe she’d been
ordered to get her drunk. Right now, she didn’t care; anything to dull her
senses would help.