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Authors: Catherine Anderson
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Could be we got a posse on our asses. Soon as the horses is watered and rested, we need to make tracks.”
The moment Eden was released, she rolled onto her side and curled into a ball to hug her throbbing stomach. Mindless prayers circled in her mind. Tonight . The mere thought of those animals touching her made her want to die. Run . She needed to get away. Only, the men stayed too close for her to make an attempt. After securing their mounts to nearby trees, they hunkered near her to eat. She could hear one man’s jaw popping as he chewed on a piece of jerky. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but they offered her nothing but a cup of stale water. Eden had difficulty drinking it. Fear had closed around her throat like a brutal fist. But she forced herself to swallow. Then, bruised and shaken, all she could do was lie there, huddled in misery.
Soon the men collected their horses. This time, Eden was allowed to sit upright in front of the cold-eyed Wallace. At first she deemed that to be an improvement, but then he looped the reins loosely around the saddle pommel and cupped her breasts in his hands. Eden jerked and tried to squirm away. He only laughed at her struggles, tweaking her nipples and then rolling the hardened peaks between thumb and forefinger. Remembering her training sessions with Ace, Eden snapped her head back and nailed him in the mouth. He roared with anger, and the next thing she knew, he’d dragged her off the horse by the hair and was slapping her. She tried to duck and avoid the blows, but his hold on her hair was relentless and his strength of arm kept her standing upright. She’d done some damage by butting him in the mouth. Blood dripped from his split lips and collected in the spaces between his decayed front teeth. He swung repeatedly at her face.
“Go, Wallace! Show her what for!” one of the other men yelled.
“Woo-hoo!” another encouraged.
Wallace continued to slap Eden until her face went numb and she could no longer feel the blows. When he finally let go of her, she dropped to her knees, so dazed that her legs had become useless.
“Don’t you never pull that kinda shit with me again, little girl. Next time, I’ll strip you naked and lay into you with my belt until my whippin’ arm gets tired. Then I’ll let my brothers have a turn. There won’t be a spot on you without welts, includin’ those purty little tits you don’t want me touchin’.”
Eden shuddered and bent her head.
“Git back on the horse,” he ordered.
She tried to stand up and couldn’t. He caught hold of her hair again and jerked her to her feet. When she failed to mount the horse on the first try, he cuffed her again, then grabbed her at the waist and tossed her up on the saddle. When he swung up behind her, Eden expected him to resume fondling her breasts, but for reasons beyond her, he didn’t. She touched her tongue to her puffy lips and tasted blood. One of her eyes was starting to swell shut. Nevertheless she counted herself lucky. Matters would have been far worse if he had used his fist instead of the flat of his hand.
They rode hard until well after dark, which disgusted Eden. Horses couldn’t see well during the twilight hours, and most of the horsemen she knew stopped to rest until darkness fell, fearful that their mounts might stumble and possibly break a leg. Not these men. They seemed to care about nothing and nobody but themselves.
Much to Eden’s regret, when they finally halted to make camp, they built only a meager fire, no doubt because they feared a posse might be close and see the flames. Eden prayed they were right in that assumption, for it might be her only hope. The train had been robbed west of Denver in the foothills, a good day from the city on horseback, and the gang had been heading north ever since at a breakneck pace, covering as much ground as possible. With every minute that passed, they were taking her farther and farther from home and family. By tomorrow at
The moment Eden was released, she rolled onto her side and curled into a ball to hug her throbbing stomach. Mindless prayers circled in her mind. Tonight . The mere thought of those animals touching her made her want to die. Run . She needed to get away. Only, the men stayed too close for her to make an attempt. After securing their mounts to nearby trees, they hunkered near her to eat. She could hear one man’s jaw popping as he chewed on a piece of jerky. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but they offered her nothing but a cup of stale water. Eden had difficulty drinking it. Fear had closed around her throat like a brutal fist. But she forced herself to swallow. Then, bruised and shaken, all she could do was lie there, huddled in misery.
Soon the men collected their horses. This time, Eden was allowed to sit upright in front of the cold-eyed Wallace. At first she deemed that to be an improvement, but then he looped the reins loosely around the saddle pommel and cupped her breasts in his hands. Eden jerked and tried to squirm away. He only laughed at her struggles, tweaking her nipples and then rolling the hardened peaks between thumb and forefinger. Remembering her training sessions with Ace, Eden snapped her head back and nailed him in the mouth. He roared with anger, and the next thing she knew, he’d dragged her off the horse by the hair and was slapping her. She tried to duck and avoid the blows, but his hold on her hair was relentless and his strength of arm kept her standing upright. She’d done some damage by butting him in the mouth. Blood dripped from his split lips and collected in the spaces between his decayed front teeth. He swung repeatedly at her face.
“Go, Wallace! Show her what for!” one of the other men yelled.
“Woo-hoo!” another encouraged.
Wallace continued to slap Eden until her face went numb and she could no longer feel the blows. When he finally let go of her, she dropped to her knees, so dazed that her legs had become useless.
“Don’t you never pull that kinda shit with me again, little girl. Next time, I’ll strip you naked and lay into you with my belt until my whippin’ arm gets tired. Then I’ll let my brothers have a turn. There won’t be a spot on you without welts, includin’ those purty little tits you don’t want me touchin’.”
Eden shuddered and bent her head.
“Git back on the horse,” he ordered.
She tried to stand up and couldn’t. He caught hold of her hair again and jerked her to her feet. When she failed to mount the horse on the first try, he cuffed her again, then grabbed her at the waist and tossed her up on the saddle. When he swung up behind her, Eden expected him to resume fondling her breasts, but for reasons beyond her, he didn’t. She touched her tongue to her puffy lips and tasted blood. One of her eyes was starting to swell shut. Nevertheless she counted herself lucky. Matters would have been far worse if he had used his fist instead of the flat of his hand.
They rode hard until well after dark, which disgusted Eden. Horses couldn’t see well during the twilight hours, and most of the horsemen she knew stopped to rest until darkness fell, fearful that their mounts might stumble and possibly break a leg. Not these men. They seemed to care about nothing and nobody but themselves.
Much to Eden’s regret, when they finally halted to make camp, they built only a meager fire, no doubt because they feared a posse might be close and see the flames. Eden prayed they were right in that assumption, for it might be her only hope. The train had been robbed west of Denver in the foothills, a good day from the city on horseback, and the gang had been heading north ever since at a breakneck pace, covering as much ground as possible. With every minute that passed, they were taking her farther and farther from home and family. By tomorrow at
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