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“You’ll do what you will, you bastard!” she spit out in a manner so unlike her that the gawking girls were struck dumb.
Mamie, equally amazed, stood nearby in wonder. In all her years of dealing with men, she’d never seen anything quite like this display of passionate longing. It was clear these two were intensely in love.
The ‘bastard’ comment did not go unpunished, no one figured it would. Obviously, Hannah wanted exactly what came next, because there was no better way to incite Daniel Crowe’s wrath than hearing a woman spitting foul-mouthed epithets. Moving into the parlor he sat down on the settee and threw his wife’s skirt up over her head, then lowered her drawers to unveil her pink flesh. Mamie’s small leather strap packed a mean punch when landing on bare skin, and so the venomous war continued until Hannah was finally spent and could do nothing but beg for mercy.
“I didn’t mean it, Daniel. I’m sorry!” she cried. “Stop! Please!”
It wasn’t but a few more resounding spanks and he ended the punishment with one final, emphatic smack.
Daniel looked up to see Travis standing in the doorway, watching, as the women watched. The sudden change in mood sent several women scurrying back upstairs, while others waited for the final outcome.
“Miss Mamie, will you please pack up my wife’s things? Travis here will bring them along. Hannah and I will be leaving now.”
The woman nodded and accepted the strap. The smooth leather was still warm to the touch.
The two people were on their feet, the woman leaning wearily against the tall man. Hannah’s tear-stained face was wrecked, and it was only just beginning.
“Here’s her cloak, sir,” one of the girls handed the garment to Daniel, “she’s gonna need it with the cold so bitter now.” Under different circumstances, tearful, heartfelt good-byes might have been exchanged; certainly the ladies of the house had grown fond of Hannah and her cooking, yet once she was snuggled inside the cloak, her husband protectively hustled her out of the house and to his horse.
“Don’t forget, she has that pretty filly tethered in the barn,” Mamie said.
“I’ll take care of her,” Travis said, tipping his hat kindly to the Madam. Like the others, he turned to watch the pair retreat into the cold grey morning.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
With the weather changing fast, Daniel’s plans changed too. The snow flurries started almost the instant the two stepped from Miss Mamie’s house, and the storm grew more intense as they slowly made their way into the hills on the back of Daniel’s stallion, Buck. The wind whipped at their legs and they both shivered from the bone-deep chill. Hannah’s only thought was that they might be stranded in this blizzard and die from the exposure. She counted that a fitting end to her terrible story.
But Daniel knew these hills like good friends and he had no such fear. He knew exactly where he planned to spend the night, and when he pulled up to dismount, they were within a few yards of an old mountain camp he frequented when he checked his traps on the high ridge.
There was a pallet bed, and a stone fireplace and plenty of dry wood stacked and ready for winter. After carrying Hannah inside, he went back to the horse for his rope, bedroll and food, then returned to the crude shelter and closed the door.
Hannah sat on the floor shivering, while she dully watched her husband move about the room. He set his things on a rickety table then took up a length of rope and leveled his gaze on her.
“Give me your hands.”
“What?”
“Your hands.”
Though cautious and worried, she sensed it better not to argue; and so held out her hands and watched awestruck as Daniel bound them together and tied off the rope with a tight knot.
“Why this?” she asked.
“I’m not risking you doing something foolish like running way,” he bluntly stated.
“In a blizzard?”
His answering stare was as icy as the howling wind.
The huge lump in her throat remained, making it difficult for her to speak.
As if it weren’t bad enough that he bound her hands, he bound her feet as well so she couldn’t stand up.
“I’ll set a fire and you’ll be warm enough soon,” he said.
She nodded and watched him open the door—a cruel blast of wind burned her skin—then he moved outside to the woodpile and returned minutes later with an armful of kindling and larger logs.
With the fire lit and starting to warm the room, Daniel sat on the lone chair beside her.
