Ride The Wild Wind (Time Travel Historical Romance) (29 page)

Her empty stomach rumbled and her gaze dropped to the rock hard biscuit
on her plate. Three days old, she guessed. Maybe more since it had green mold.
She’d long lost her appetite, although she supposed that being in the company
of an abusive rat bastard had a way of doing that to a person.

She’d slipped her hunk of steak to Max beneath the table, who passed on
the dubious treat and decided to wallow on it instead.

As a ‘guest’ at Fort Dennison for four days, they’d given her private
quarters and three unpalatable meals a day. Iron bars blocked the windows and
her room was kept locked, a guard posted outside her door around the clock.

Her heart was too heavy to think of herself. She had witnessed the women
and children tied together by ropes and marched on foot to one makeshift camp
before being loaded in wagons and brought here. Some were beaten for not being
able to understand the soldier’s command. She’d also heard that two young men
not much older than sixteen had been shot.

She wondered where Antonio was, if he were also here, imprisoned, or if
he had already been killed. She couldn’t bear the thought he might be dead and
forced the thought aside. Her only desire now was to escape and find Antonio
and the children—Lukachukai,
Tani and Diego.

Soldiers hadn’t questioned her about Antonio, and only inquired about
her treatment while with the Navajo. She told them The People
had
treated her well, that the women had taken her in and fed and clothed her. No
one had specifically asked if she’d been molested, although she suspected they
believed she had. She dared not mention Antonio’s name, although sooner or
later she figured the Colonel might approach the subject.

 Tonight, she had been requested to dine with Colonel Simmons. She
feared he suspected her involvement with Antonio, and was hoping to extract
information over dinner. Earlier that day, the Colonel presented her with a low
cut baby blue gown with ostrich feathers at the neck, sparkling, tear drop
earrings, and white kid skin slippers with a gold toe—all used, of course. An
odd-looking ensemble and one she suspected might have come from either a
prostitute or a traveling singer. He’d instructed one of the maids to destroy
her beautifully woven Navajo blanket dress and intricately beaded doe skin
moccasins, all gifts from Antonio’s family.

“The dress I selected is most becoming on you, Miss Brannigan,” Colonel
Simmons picked at his teeth with a dirty fingernail. “Do you approve of my
selection?”

She didn’t. It was itchy and reeked of another woman’s sweat and
perfume, but she nodded politely anyway thinking it was best to play the part
of a grateful guest. Actually, the low-cut bodice was much too revealing for
her taste and the slippers nearly a size too small.

The Colonel speared a chunk of meat with his fork and popped it into his
mouth.  “I sent a telegram to your uncle in Union City informing him of
your rescue from the savages,” he mumbled as he chewed a mouthful of food.
“Yesterday, he sent word back that he will be arriving on the next stage in a
day or two.”

Icy fear gripped her at the thought of Frank Cole’s arrival. The room
grew warm and stuffy and the beans she’d eaten earlier in the day bubbled
gaseously in her gut.

“I assured your uncle you had not been harmed,” the Colonel rambled on,
adding, “and you were quite fortunate we found you this soon, Miss Brannigan.
In fact, I can recall one particular incident where a woman was returned to her
white family several years after her capture by the savages with her two little
half-breed children in tow and another one on the way.”

Halle felt like dumping her plate of food in his lap. Bigoted jerk. He
had lumped all Indian tribes into one category and culture, that of the
predatory savage. She had been well-treated and cared for by the Navajo and no
man—no Indian man that is, had treated her inappropriately. She couldn’t say
that for white men, considering the way the Colonel kept eyeing her breasts.

“Do you speak French, Miss Brannigan?”

Halle froze. What an odd question. Why would he assume she did? “No. I
don’t speak French.”

“I only inquired because you look French, my dear, with your striking
features and dusky coloration. When I was a younger, I knew a lovely Creole
woman in New Orleans—an Antoinette De Vries. At one time I aspired to marry her
but dear Antoinette had been promised to another. Her parents ran a small hotel
on Bienville Street in the
Vieux Carre.”

Was the Colonel making casual conversation, or fishing for information?
The hair prickled on Halle’s neck and arms. No, he was on to something. Did the
Colonel suspect she was black? That would certainly explain his odd line of
questioning. It would also put her in a dangerous position, both legally and
socially. “Um, yeah,” she fudged. “I was born in New Orleans, not far from
Bienville Street.” She shocked herself with the ease of which she could lie when
her life depended on it.

The Colonel had been about to place another bite of food in his mouth,
when he stopped. “And you don’t speak a word of French? I find that most
difficult to believe if you grew up in the quarters.”

It wasn’t entirely true. She only knew precisely one phrase in French, a
line from Patti LaBelle’s famous song about a New Orleans’s hooker, Lady
Marmalade—“
voulez vous coucher avec moi
?” or “do you want to go to bed
with me?”

And that line was definitely
out.

“Um…we moved away when I was a baby.”

His eyes narrowed on her, his gaze slowly dipping to her cleavage. “Is
that so?”

With the sleeve of her dress, she daubed at the cold sweat beading up on
her forehead. She was about to be caught in a lie. She sensed it in the way he
kept eyeing her, in the tone of his voice. He knew more than he let on. Her
stomach churned and she squirmed in the hard, uncomfortable chair.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” She swallowed the backwash of food and
acid in her throat. Max jumped into her lap and sniffed her chin.  It’s
all right little guy. I’m just queasy.”

The Colonel rose from his chair. “Perhaps you should retire for the
evening.”

“Yep, I’m going to puke,” she whispered, unable to stand on her own. It
was the truth. Was something wrong with the food?

The Colonel made a face and rounded the table. Without warning he lifted
both Halle and Max into his arms, carrying her from the dining hall and out
onto a wooden walkway. He rounded the corner and she realized he was taking her
back to her quarters instead of the infirmary. Soldiers stepped aside to let
them pass, and although Halle detested touching the man, she clung to him, her
arms around his neck as nausea rolled through her insides again.

As they entered her room she caught a flash of movement behind the
Colonel.

Antonio.

She lifted her eyes to the colonel’s as a shadowy figure darted behind
them and disappeared into the night. She had to distract the Colonel, and fast.

Colonel Simmons laid her on the bed, then strode over to the door. Holy
crap! She had to stop him!

“Colonel!”

He paused, turned around. “Yes, Miss Brannigan?”

“Stay…please.” Halle gave him her most seductive smile.

The Colonel lifted a brow, then his lips curled into a smile. “Oh, I had
certainly planned to stay, Miss Brannigan,” he said, latching the door.
“Unless, of course, I make you…
uncomfortable
.”

Halle batted her eyes innocently, though in reality she was ready to
crap a brick. “You are a good and decent man and I know you would do nothing
improper. Why, I think of you like an older cousin.” She watch the
encouragement flare in his eyes. “You are a true gentleman, and I feel
completely safe in your company.”

Of course she’d lied to save Antonio’s life. She hadn’t missed the way
he’d been ogling her throughout dinner, his eyes fixing every so often on her
breasts. Still, she felt she had no other choice but to create a distraction.
 She made doe eyes at him again. “I need to speak with you about something
important.”

He gave a resigned sigh. “Very well. Would you like a drink of water?
Whiskey perhaps, or does a proper lady such as yourself imbibe?”

Halle swallowed hard as a shadowy figure passed outside the window. She
had to divert his attention and fast. “Um, I don’t drink, but water would be
nice.”

He poured her a cup of water from a crockery pitcher, then took a flask
out of the inside of his coat and took a long swig before seating himself on
the edge of the bed. She sipped the cool drink, her mind racing. Damn, but she
was in a fix. 

 “You have my unwavering attention.”

 Halle mustered up her most pitiful puppy dog face. “Please don’t
send me back to my uncle. I beg of you. Oh, please! I shan’t survive such!”

His brows knitted together.  Okay, maybe it was best she toned down
the theatrics.

“Miss Brannigan, I cannot prevent your uncle from taking you home. He is
your only living relative.”

“But he beats me,” she whispered tearfully, turning up the drama a
notch. “I’m afraid he will hurt me again.”

Without warning the Colonel reached across and pulled her into his lap.
A bit of water sloshed onto her dress and onto his pant leg. There was no
mistaking his intent for his smoldering eyes said everything.

Halle sucked in a breath, afraid to breathe.  He gingerly took the tin
cup from her hand and set it aside. “You ran away from Union City, did you
not?”

She nodded, in agreement, although she knew that Hope Brannigan had been
abducted at Frank Cole’s request and her body dumped in the canyon.

“Was it because your uncle forced himself upon you?” The colonel lifted
her chin a bit with his forefinger. “Hmmm?”

Her eyes never left his. “N-no.”

His jaw twitched. “You must forgive me for asking, Miss Brannigan, but I
have wondered about something since your arrival here. Did any of the Indian
men take liberties while you while you were in captivity?”

“Um…no. Of course not.”

His fingertip skimmed downward over her throat, gliding down to the top
button on the bodice of the dress. He popped it open.

Halle’s breath hitched in her throat, stunned by the man’s bold move but
she offered no resistance. When the tip of his warm finger slipped between her
cleavage she went stone still, her gaze never leaving his. She had, after all,
begun this flirtatious game and would have to see it through in order to
distract him long enough for Antonio to make his move.

Her heart pounded in her chest as the next button flicked open, followed
by the second. Her first instinct was to bolt, but that would not give Antonio
the advantage. How far would she have to go? She shuddered inwardly at the
thought.

A smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “You’re quite lovely with dark,
sultry eyes that can turn a man weak with desire.” Without warning he reached
inside her dress and grasped a breast.

“You asshole!” Halle wrenched away. She kicked at his head and tried to
roll off the bed but he pounced on her back, subduing her with a knee to the
spine. Oh, God, but she felt as though her back might snap in half at any
moment. At a definite disadvantage, she relaxed. Maybe she could sweet talk him
again.

  “Okay, I’m sorry,” she said in her kindest voice. “I’ll be good.
Real good. I’ll do anything, Colonel. Anything. Please…just…don’t hurt me.”

A moment later, he let up, then flipped her onto her back.

His feral eyes pinned her as he ripped open the front of her dress,
sending a shower of tiny buttons scattering in all directions. He eyed her like
a hungry dog.

A frightening scenario unfolded in her mind’s eye as he lowered his lips
to hers. She swallowed the hard lump of fear, pursed her lips together to
thwart his tongue’s invasion. Her first instinct was to grab the bastard by the
balls and twist them off,  but fear for Antonio’s safety and the other men
won out.  Fighting back tears, her lips parted in submission. At least
he’d be distracted while Antonio went about the task of freeing the women and
children. If she fought or screamed, the commotion might alert someone to the
fact the fort had been invaded.

His tongue thrust inside and she went stone still, enduring his
punishing kiss. His hands ravaged her breasts, squeezing and pinching he
nipples until she thought she might pass out.

 Moments later, his mouth left hers.  His eyes were wild, his
breathing heavy and erratic although he continued his assult on her, smiling as
he caused her pain.  He dipped his head to nuzzle a breast. Then he
grasped it painfully and twisted again. Oh, God! She fought down a sob as the
world threatened to go black. His torture continued for several seconds. So he
enjoyed hurting her, frightening her with his brute strength? She wouldn’t give
the bastard the satisfaction of knowing how he’d hurt her.

“You are an incredible little liar,” he whispered against her ear.
“Quite the actress.”

She didn’t know what possessed her but she inclined her face to his and
bit his cheek. With a string of curse words he released her. She scrambled off
the bed, backing up against the wall. He leapt from the bed and yanked her arm
with force, hauling her up against him.

“Don’t you think I know who and what you are?” He gripped her shoulders
and gave her a violent shake. ”You are Whitehorse’s whore!”

He reared back and dealt her a blow across the face which sent her
sprawling on the floor. Incredible pain rocketed through her cheek and nose.
Oh,
damn
.  She touched her fingertips to her bloodied nose. Had the son of
a bitch broken it? Warm blood trickled over her upper lip. The metallic taste
filled her mouth. She prayed he hadn’t knocked a tooth loose. Wiping the blood
from her face with her sleeve, she dared a glance up at him.

Max laid into the man, barking and snarling, tearing at his pants leg.