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Hurrying her pace, she moved up the steps of her house, then on inside, past the noise surfacing from the kitchen, up the stairs until she entered the privacy of her own room. When she closed the door, she turned with a start when she heard a noise from behind her. Her eyes widened and her pulsebeat raced when she found Nathan moving toward her. His eyes had never appeared so narrow and bottomless. They were all grays, washing over her appearance. His briar-thicket brows bounced as his eyes moved back up to search her face.
“And where have you been, my sweet?” he said in his usual high-pitched voice. His fingers reached up and began to caress his thick moustache as his lips continued to be wetted by his flicking tongue.
“I've been out. Enjoying the beautiful day,” she said, trembling. She laughed nervously, reaching up to push her hair back from her shoulders. “It seems the March winds continue to play havoc with my hair,” she uttered softly.
“And your dress?” he accused. “Is the weather so rough that your dress gets so wrinkled by the harshness of the wind's breath?”
Maria's gaze lowered. She began to fidget with the gathers of her dress, waiting for his further accusations. She knew that her words were frozen deeply inside her. No way could she talk her way out of this discovery.
“Come here, Maria,” Nathan said strongly.
Maria's gaze moved toward him, seeing him unbuttoning his breeches. “What .. . ?” she gasped, swallowing hard.
“I said to come here,” he ordered, his voice seeming to have dropped an octave. He reached inside his breeches and pulled from it his drooping manhood.
“Why … ?” Maria whispered, putting
her hands to her throat, feeling suddenly ill. She didn't want to think that she would have just left Michael and his caresses to have to be plunged into such an ugly sexual confrontalion with Nathan, even if Nathan was her husband, and Michael not. She stood her ground, shaking her head back and forth.
“I'm going to show you just who is boss around here,” Nathan said, moving toward her. He reached up and wrapped his hands around her neck and forced her down.
“What. .. are . . . you doing . .. ?” she gasped, feeling ice water filling her veins, having to have her face so close to. . . .
“Just shut up,” Nathan growled, forcing her face into his crotch.
“Please. . . .” she gasped, struggling. But he soon had her mouth quieted by something of revulsion to her. She gagged and kicked as he began to thrust inside her mouth, over and over again, until tears fell from her eyes, not even then helping with her utter disgrace of the moment. When he finally became all tremors, she felt pain down the back of her throat and gagged even more, then wiped at her mouth when he pulled away from her, laughing hoarsely.
She closed her eyes and fell forward, crying hard, hitting her doubled-up fists against the floor. She would never be so humiliated again. Why had he done this to her? Why had he chosen to take her in such an abnormal way? She hadn't even known such ways existed. Oh, how her throat ached. Would she even be able to face another human being after such an ugly violation to her . . . mouth . . . ? “Get up, you bitch,” Nathan growled, reaching down to grab her roughly by the arm. “Don't you think I know what you've been up to?” He laughed shrilly. “But I'm going to let you continue to play your games with that union fellow. Maybe you can even get me some information to help me with my plans.” He placed his fingers through her hair and yanked her head back. “Do you hear, slut? I should've known better than to marry a luscious wench like you. From what I've found, you're all whores. Damn, dirty whores.”
“Please let me go, Nathan,” Maria whimpered. “I'll never do anything else to make you angry at me. Honest. Please don't hurt me, though.” Her thoughts went to her gun. She had placed it deep inside her closet, beneath her hat boxes. If she could only act innocent, play the role of someone who meant to apologize, then she could possibly get the gun and use it on him.
“Beg,” he hissed, jerking even more strongly on her hair.
“I am begging,” she cried. “Please don't hurt me any longer.”
His hands dropped to his side, letting Maria crumple to the floor in a heap. She continued to cry, hoping he would leave the room. But he continued to stand there and wait for her to reach composure of some degree. She sobbed another time, then pushed herself up from the floor, looking upward at the ugliness of his face and the emptiness of his eyes once again.
Oh, how she hated him. Oh, how she loathed him. He was even more vile than she had ever imagined another human could be. She inched her way toward the closet, but once there, she knew she couldn't use the gun. She just couldn't shoot another human … being … even if this one was the lowest of all forms.
Nathan walked to the window and stared outward, laughing shrilly. “No. I won't hurt you,” he said. “But I can't say as much for those who try to disturb my coal mine employees.” He swung around, glaring. “You see. Maria, after the fence is completed, I plan to have machine guns mounted atop blockhouses constructed of oak logs. Then if anyone should try to intervene in my business, I shall shoot to kill.” He laughed once again, moving toward her. “So you see, my pet, my plans to keep my coal mine running with my Italian . . . uh . . . friends will continue as in the past.”
“But. . . machine . . . guns . . . ?” she gasped, inching her way from him as he continued to move toward her.
“Machine guns. Bang . .. bang. .. .” he said, pointing a finger at her. “Shoot to kill. That's going to be my motto.”
“You're sick,” Maria hissed, forgetting her fears of him. She now could only think of Michael and the danger he was in. How could she tell him? Or would he have already found out? Surely his men had found out the gruesome details of Nathan Hawkins's plans. There would never be a way to win. Never.
“Not sick,” he said, kicking at the skirt of her dress. “Rich. Filthy rich. And I intend to remain so.” He rushed from the room, leaving Maria to stare blankly after him.
Rising, she walked as though in a daze toward the window, seeing the peacefulness of the vineyard stretched out for miles and miles. The green leaves were swaying gently in the breeze and the sun's rays rippled in velvets onto the vines, so peaceful, so calm and peaceful. But that was the only thing that was peaceful in this area of southern Illinois.
Maria lifted the window, listening. The pounding and hammerings at the coal mine had ceased. Had they completed the fence? Were they now constructing the blockhouses, readying them for their machine guns? Slamming the window shut, Maria began to pace back and forth. What could she do? She felt in a worse prison now that Nathan knew of her involvement with Michael. Then hope sprang forth. He hadn't mentioned Michael's name. Maybe he truly didn't know. Maybe he was just playing another game with her?
Going to the bedroom door, opening it, Maria listened. She heard voices, then crept to the top of the staircase and listened even further. She tensed when she heard Nathan giving orders to his representatives.
“… And I want it posted all over the town of Hawkinsville that all persons in the possession of firearms, equipment and munitions of war are required to surrender the same to you and that all assemblages in the streets, either by day or night, are prohibited.”
Someone besides Nathan spoke up. “Okay. But what are we to do if anyone gives us trouble?”
