Wilderness Trail of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 1) (26 page)

“Let’s give our mounts a rest at the next stream,” William said.

“Give them a rest or you?”

“Got to keep up with my beauty rest. It’s a habit you should cultivate, judging from that face of yours.”

“It was good enough for Father, and it’s good enough for me.”

“You do resemble him remarkably. I guess that’s why we all let you lead us around. We think you’re going to give us a whomping like he did with that damn razor strap. All he’d have to do is look at that strap to make me straighten up.”

George stepped over a large rock. “If he was speaking to you now, he’d tell you it’s high time for you to give up your bachelor ways, settle down, get married and get to work on your own farm. And he probably would give you a good whomping.”

“I’ll settle down when the time is right and not before. I have no desire to farm. I want to study the law and use it to help people. Without the rule of law, our hard won freedoms cannot be assured. Those who infringe on a man’s freedom and rights should pay a
price. That’s what I believe and that’s what I intend to do with my life. A place like Kentucky will need sheriffs and lawyers.”

“What about a wife? You seem fond enough of women. You should have found a suitable one by now.”

“That’s just it. I haven’t found one I’m not fond of.” William chuckled. “They’re all appealing in various ways. Narrowing it down to just one is impossible.”

“You better start soon. You won’t be that handsome forever. There are a few white hairs sticking out by those big ears of yours.”

William rubbed the hair by his ear. “White?”

“Indeed.”

Seeing the amusement in Stephen’s eyes, William chuckled, but his eyes still looked worried.

They stopped by a stream flowing down from the foothills. Crystal clear water flowed and gurgled over colorful rocks and boulders, formed and polished over centuries with the infinite patience of nature. After taking a drink, he studied the desolate hills around them, studded heavily with thick spruce and cedars. “Keep a watch for bears and mountain cats. They hunt in the higher hills like these,” Stephen said.

“Thanks for the tip,” William said.

“Look,” Stephen said, pointing to a whisper of smoke escaping through the treetops. “Must be a homestead up there.”

Both men mounted their horses and headed toward the cabin.

“Don’t assume they’re friendly,” William said.

“The only thing I’m assuming is that they’re not.”

They rode a short way up the path and then tied their horses to
a tree. Both grabbed their rifles and checked the powder in their pistols. Slowly and quietly, they made their way on foot up the rest of the hill. Hiding behind a large pine, they studied the little rustic dugout for several minutes.

The backside of the cabin rested snugly against the side of a rock covered hill, providing natural insulation against winter winds and snows from the north. A dilapidated porch covered a large front door. Rough logs, cut into five-foot sections, formed the three walls. The only sounds they heard were a squirrel jumping from tree limb to tree limb behind them and chickens foraging a short distance from the house.

“That pen is holding four horses and a mule. That’s a lot of horse flesh for a place like this,” Stephen said.

William nodded in agreement. “That big sorrel with the white stocking on the right rear foot matches the description of Mr. Adams’ steed. And the other three are the colors of the three killers’ horses she described. We’ve found them.”

“That sorrel’s a fine looking animal. Probably what they killed Adams for.”

“I’ve heard that in the wilderness, horses are more valuable than humans. My guess would be they plan to take it to a fort or settlement for trade,” William said. “It’s too quiet in there. What do you suppose they’re up to?”

A scream of terror and agony pierced the silence.

He glanced at William for a split second before they both took off running towards the small cabin.

“Stay quiet. We’ll have the advantage of surprise,” William told him.

William stepped quietly onto the porch, both pistols drawn and motioned for Stephen to stand on the other side of the door.

The woman screamed again, sounding terror-stricken.

William burst through the crude front door, pistols drawn.

Stephen stepped into the room and caught sight of a young woman, bound to the bed, and her two attackers, one of them struggling to penetrate her, the other fondling her breasts. She appeared to be little more than a girl.

In that split second, the repressed anger of his girls’ deaths flooded through his mind. The raw and bleeding skin on the girl’s ankles and wrists enraged him. The sight of those two animals ravaging her slight body made rage explode from his every pore.

William locked his pistol’s sights on the man on top of the woman, but didn’t shoot. If his brother fired, he might hit her.

With eyes looking through a father’s rage, he understood what he had to do. He couldn’t help his daughters now, but he could help this young woman. He cocked his weapon. As the one fondling her small breasts stood up in surprise, Stephen shot him squarely in the chest.

The other man jumped up, his eyes narrowed, his face contorted in fury, and lunged through the powder’s smoke toward him.

Stephen turned his pistol around and used the butt to club the man’s jaw. Then he kicked the rapist in the stomach with his boot. The vicious blow threw the man to the floor face down.

“Help me. Help me. Help me,” the woman sobbed.

The woman’s pathetic plea momentarily distracted him, but he spun around when William fired his pistol. The attacker dropped to
the floor, shot through the heart.

“He went for his knife,” William said, as he nudged the man with his boot. He won’t do it again.”

Stephen heard wretched sobbing behind him. The woman’s pitiful cries triggered the need to protect and tugged at his heart. If William hadn’t just killed the bastard, he would have beaten the man to death himself.

CHAPTER 28

I
t all happened in a blur of seconds. It took more time for them to find a blanket, cover the young woman, and cut the bindings at her wrists and ankles than it did to kill her assailants.

When the last of her bonds fell away, she grabbed her knees and curled up in a ball of anguish, sobbing desperately. Blood from the bullet wound of one of the attacker’s splattered her bruised and tear-stained face.

Stephen and William looked at each other not sure what to do first.

Stephen motioned toward the dead men. “Let’s get them out of here and then I’ll fetch some water so she can wash up.”

They each grabbed one and drug the two men out the cabin door, their bodies leaving a path of blood, crooked and smeared, just like the lives they’d led.

William shoved the man Stephen shot off the dusty porch and went back to help the young woman.

Stephen threw the other body face down in the dirt Then he
marched on to retrieve their horses. He mounted George, and lugged William’s horse behind him as he rode quickly back up to the cabin. He tied the men’s feet with his rope and used George to drag the bodies into the woods. The last thing that poor girl needed was to see these two again. He decided he’d better search their pockets in case they had any of Mrs. Adams’ valuables on them. The first man had nothing, but he found Mr. Adams’ watch in the other’s pocket. He searched further and found a pouch of money. He secured both in his waistcoat pocket.

After untying the rope and remounting, he peered down at the bodies and noticed unbuttoned pants hung around the legs of one of them. His eyes hardened. “Go to hell,” he swore.

Stephen got water from the cistern and brought the bucket to the cabin door. He gave the bucket to William who gave a dipperful to the young woman. She drank greedily, clutching the blanket against her breast. Her crying slowed somewhat and she laid back down on the cot.

“How is she?” Stephen asked softly.

“Still in shock I think,” William whispered. “I found what looked like a rag and wiped the blood from the floor as best I could and then threw the rag in the hearth, along with the scraps of rope that the bastards used to tie her.”

She still sobbed softly and it tore at Stephen’s heart. He’d kill them again if he could.

Very slowly, William stooped down on the floor several feet from the bed, his hat in his hand. He said gently, “My name’s William Wyllie and this other ugly fellow is my youngest brother Stephen. I guess you could say I’m a lawman of sorts because I was the sheriff
in the town where we lived before. We were hunting those two snakes for murdering a man named Adams not too far from here. They also robbed Mrs. Adams. But, thankfully, she killed one of them with her dagger before they could harm her. There were three of them. After she killed one, the other two fled with Mr. Adams’ horse and we tracked them here. Now they’re dead. I know you’re frightened and you don’t know us, but I swear to you on that Bible there on the table that you are safe now.”

“We won’t let any more harm come to you. Just lie down and rest now. It’s over. They can’t hurt you anymore,” Stephen said.

“I gathered up your clothes. Some were torn but some seemed to be still in one piece and I laid them all there at the end of your cot,” William explained.

Stephen scanned the sparsely furnished cabin for some clean clothes for her. Several pelts were stretched on racks. Not finding much he decided they’d better just leave her alone. She needed privacy anyway. He motioned for William to go outside with him.

As they neared the front door, William glanced over his shoulder at the young woman. “Rest awhile now. Stephen and I will make you something to eat. Are you hungry?”

She fisted the blanket below her chin, but she didn’t respond.

Stephen wished he could comfort and reassure her but, as with Jane, he found himself at a loss for words. What can you say to a woman whose innocence had just been stolen forever? How could a man comfort a woman who just experienced the greed of an evil man’s lust, void of any love or warmth.

After William shut the front door quietly behind them, he said, “I forgot to ask her name. She probably wouldn’t say anything just yet anyway, but I bet it’s a pretty name.”

“She’s scared out of her mind. It’ll take her some time.”

“What kind of a men would do such a thing?” William asked.

“The kind that go to hell. They’re being welcomed there right now.”

“How old do you suppose she is?”

“Somewhere between fifteen and seventeen. Pretty thing. Wonder where her folks are? She can’t be living out here in the middle of nowhere alone. At least I hope she isn’t.” Stephen began working on a cook fire for coffee.

“Look at those saddle packs on the porch. I bet they contain Catherine’s stolen goods.” William marched up to the porch and opened them. “The silver teapot is in here. I’m sure the rest of it belongs to Catherine too.”

“I found her husband’s gold watch on one of them. Also found a pouch of money. Haven’t counted it yet. I’m not burying those two skunks. I dumped them off in the woods over that hill. They can be the local coyotes’ dinner for all I care.”

“Probably give the coyotes a bellyache,” William said.